Page 56 of Waves
Sahar gave an audible sigh of relief. “He argued with me this morning, wanting to represent himself again. Watching and waiting isn’t easy for him.”
“I’m sure it’s not. Your son likes to be in the thick of it.”
She nodded, her jaw sawing back and forth with something unsaid. I was tempted to pry, to let her unburden her troubles to me the way I so often did to her, but the mayor swam up just then and our opportunity for a private conversation disappeared.
Pale pink octopus tentacles preceding her, Didero arrived with an up do that was even more impressive than the one she’d worn to our first meeting, and utterly different from the one she’d had as she’d waited with me during the search today. Her hair formed a white cone, and ribbons of red erupted from the middle of it. The way they danced in the current and trailed over her hair made them look like sprays of lava, the style was in honor of our island visitor.
The people-pleasing side of me immediately wondered if I should have done something similar.
“Your Majesty.” She gave a respectful curtsy, and I responded with a head nod before reaching for her hand.
“Thank you for hosting. In the chaos that was today, I think I forgot to say thanks. But I know that this tournament is a major undertaking, and I want you to know I really appreciate the lengths you’ve gone to.”
She squeezed my hand and released it, shaking her head in a motherly fashion as she gestured at the crowd. “No need to thank me. Their memories will be stamped with this event for years to come. It’s the most exciting thing our town has seen in a decade. We’re thrilled to have you and to watch those men make us proud.”
I tried to keep my expression light and airy, but my stomach muscles clenched. Though I hoped that Kremos would be talking about the Syzgos Tournament for the right reasons, I didn’t have a ton of faith that the rebellion would back down.
They hadn’t even bothered to come forward with a series of demands yet. The only thing I knew for certain that they wanted was to be rid of me. My sky breather status was enough to ensure their permanent hatred.
Before the spiraling darkness could drag my thoughts completely into its vortex, a conch shell sounded, the blast calling everyone to attention.
My eyes drifted to the line of men. And then… my stomach dropped.
Sahar reached over and clenched my hand so hard my bones ached. “Do you see?”
I nodded mutely.
Struggling, stumbling, dragging his leg, Taft appeared from behind an outcrop of rock. Hobbling forward, he joined the line of competitors, breathing hard by the time he arrived.
Holy shite.
All my attention focused on that lean blue shadow at the far end of the row, dark curiosity shoving forcefully through my head.
What had happened to Taft?
Clearly, he’d been hurt.
But by whom?
When?
Why?
How?
My stare focused on him with the intensity of lightning and I was shocked when his gaze didn’t immediately rise to meet mine. If I had better control over the ocean, I would have had a tiny wave shove his shoulder, turn his head, and force him to look over. But I was more likely to plow the entire lineup of competitors with ice balls than anything else. Today, I was not feeling confident in my own abilities, I was too wrung out.
As he was.
My eyes narrowed and I wondered if Watkins would show a sliver of guilty conscience, something to prove his connection to Taft’s injury. But as I looked over at the shark shifter and other men, all I noticed was Keelan drifting forward and exchanging a few words with the nixe. The shark shifter remained neutral.
“Keelan’s checking on him,” I murmured aloud.
“Of course he is,” Sahar stated, throat a little tight, voice more strained than I’d heard it before. She was proud of him, as she should be.
“After this…” I trailed off because a series of killer whales swam overhead then, casting shadows that drew our eyes upward to watch them. In military formation, forming a wedge, they swam up to the island man, encircling him, each one clasping something massive in its mouth. In unison, thecreatures opened their mouths, dropping boulders all around his body, sending up plumes of golden sand.
“Of course,” Sahar answered, knowing I wanted to speak with Taft immediately after the event, apparently not quite as derailed by the whale display as I was.
