Page 19 of Cerban
But after a moment, he lowered his voice. “Fine. Write it quickly. And keep it vague – I’m not passing along a love letter.”
I snatched the paper from the bedside table, words spilling fast, messy but certain:
Cerban,
I’ve been reviewing the dive footage. The bubbles in the cave weren’t random. They followed a rhythm: five bursts, pause, five bursts, pause. I need you to help me figure out what it means. When the storm clears, we have to go back. Together.
I folded the paper and pressed it into Tyrone’s hand before I could change my mind. “Please.”
He shook his head, muttering, “You’re both going to kill me,” but tucked it into his pocket.
As he left, my pulse quickened. For the first time since the cave collapse, I felt less like a victim and more like myself again.
If Cerban came back for me – and I had no doubt he would – then the sea hadn’t finished with us yet.
I’d just settled back against the pillows, trying to slow the jitter of nerves in my chest, when the door opened again. I expected Tyrone with more tea – or maybe contraband biscuits – but instead Paul strode in. He was dressed sharply in a white suit, the rolled up sleeves the only admission to the tropical climate outside. Now that the storm had passed, the sun was shining again as if nothing had happened.
He looked tired, the storm’s aftermath carved into the lines on his face, but his voice was softer than I’d feared.
“Good to see you awake,” he said, pulling up the lone chair and sitting rather than looming. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got run over by a ship,” I muttered. “But much better. And alive. Thanks to… him.”
Paul nodded, hands clasped loosely between his knees. “Cerban. Yes. I owe him for that. We all do.”
The words surprised me. “I thought you were furious.”
“I was,” he admitted, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Furious at the storm, at the scare you gave us, at the finfolk for breaking rules we can’t afford to bend. But not at you. You couldn’t have predicted the storm nor the cave collapsing. And Cerban…” He shook his head. “He did the right thing, even if it puts us in a difficult position. None of us knew you were out for a dive, and even if we had, we wouldn't have been able to rescue you."
Relief loosened something tight in my chest. For once, Paul wasn’t just the manager reciting rules; he was a man who cared for the people under his watch.
“Pam’s been in touch,” he went on, his tone turning more businesslike. “You know how she is. She’s worried this could undo the trust we’ve built with the finfolk. She’s ordered that Cerban continues to be confined to quarters until she decides what to do.”
The thought of Cerban locked away, punished for saving me, made anger prickle beneath my skin. “That’s not fair.”
Paul gave me a long, steady look. “I don’t disagree. But my job is to protect both staff and guests, and sometimes that means keeping to the rules, even when they don’t seem fair. What matters now is that you recover. The rest… we’ll find a way to handle it.”
He stood, smoothing his damp shirt. “Get some rest, Maelis. Tyrone will keep me updated on your progress. And if you need anything, you come to me. Understood?”
I nodded, the words caught in my throat.
When he left, the room felt quiet again, save for the hiss of the oxygen cylinder. Paul might be bound by rules, but he hadn’t condemned Cerban outright. That gave me a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, not all bridges were burned quite yet.
12
Cerban
The second sunpass after the storm broke clear and bright, but confinement made it feel no different from the storm itself. I paced my room, the walls closing in, every breath dragging like an anchor. I was so very desperate to get out of here, yet I knew it could destroy everything if I followed that temptation. But ever since Tyrone had smuggled in Maelis' latest message, a note about the bubbles we'd seen in the cave, I'd been re-reading it, committing it to memory. Imagining the female who'd written those words. But also, pondered over the significance of her observations. I was curious to watch her footage. Unless it was different on this planet, no animal or plant would release bubbles at such a regular frequency. But if it wasn't a living thing, what could it be?
What was lurking in that cave, waiting to be discovered?
The door banged open and Rainse strolled in, whistling. He shoved a laundry trolley ahead of him, a pile of blankets spilling over the edges.
“What is this?” I demanded.
“Room service,” he said smugly. “Or, more accurately, smuggling service.” He gave the trolley a dramatic shake. “Come out before you suffocate.”
The blankets stirred and then Maelis pushed herself up, hair tousled, cheeks flushed from the effort of hiding.
