Dragonfruit, page 16
“You’re spoiling my chance,” Rosamie informed Hanalei, through her hat.
When Hanalei rounded the boulder, she discovered a secluded patch of sand and sea. The flame trees growing on top of the rock provided a welcome shade. Rosamie’s dress had been discarded, tossed onto another rock. She floated on her back in the shallows, wearing only her shift and her giant hat, which she had placed squarely on her face.
Hanalei would have loved nothing more than to dive into the cool waters of the Nominomi, but she was not about to fling her clothes about with so many others nearby. She made do with removing her shoes and stepping ankle-deep into the shallows. “Your chance for what?”
Through the hat: “You know what.”
Hanalei kept her voice neutral. Or thought she did. “I’ve only been home two days. How much could I have spoiled?”
Silence.
Rosamie whipped her hat from her face as she stood. It was Hanalei’s first good look at her. She was very pretty, though cross, her face round and her black hair cut very short, at chin level. “All of it, I think. I’ve never seen a hand kissed the way yours was today. You made William blush. Just like when he saw the Naked Lady.”
“Sleeping,” Hanalei said absently. She could still feel Sam’s kiss, hours later.
“Whatever. Lady Hanalei—”
“I’m just Hanalei.”
“You don’t use your title?”
“Not in a long time.” Hanalei could see herself falling lower and lower in Rosamie’s regard. She tipped her head back and drank from her bamboo.
Rosamie slapped at the water, scaring away some fish that had come too close. “My mother says a title is like armor. The way clothing can be. She says ladies need as much armor as we can carry, if we’re to make any headway in the world.”
“Armor is heavy.” The dolphins had also come closer to their little cove, making Hanalei smile. “Where is your mother? On Salamasina?” She remembered meeting Rosamie’s uncle, but no one else.
Rosamie returned the hat to her head. “My mother is gone. She died last summer.”
Rosamie had spoken of her parent in present terms, not past. Her grief was there for Hanalei to see, now that she was looking. Silently, she held out the bamboo.
Rosamie came out of the water. She took the bamboo and flopped onto the wet sand by Hanalei’s feet. After drinking her fill, Rosamie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I heard Princess Oliana was like a mother to you. Was she?”
“Yes.” Hanalei sat beside her. “My mother and the princess were friends since they were girls. My mother died when I was a baby. I don’t remember her. Princess Olli is who I remember.”
Rosamie’s words were subdued. “I know your story, Hanaleiarihi. The dragonfruit saved your life, but your troubles did not suddenly go away.”
“No.” Instead there had been more troubles. No father, no silver, no home.
“Then what will you do differently this time? What is your plan?” She studied Hanalei’s face. “There is no plan.”
“There will be.”
“When?” Rosamie challenged. “After everyone who matters is killed?”
Hanalei looked away. “If you’re so frightened, you should go back.”
“I am not fright— What is it?” Rosamie asked when Hanalei jumped to her feet, scanning the water.
Hanalei looked and listened. She could not hear them anymore. “The dolphins are gone.”
22
THE COMPASS ROSE WAS A DRAGONER LIKE ANY other. Painted black with a rounded hull. An Esperanzan flag hung limp from its mast. The ship was anchored at the far end of the harbor, past empty fishing boats both large and small.
“They won’t go,” the harbor guard told Sam with visible frustration. “They say, ‘There’s a hole in the boat, it needs to be patched.’ And when it’s patched, they say, ‘Our shipmate has gone to the village. We are waiting on her return.’” He threw up his hands. “We could drag it ourselves, use the big hook, but your bat’s message said to stay out of the water.”
“Are they playing cards?” Sam asked as their kandayos ambled their way toward the Compass Rose, which did not look like a ship preparing to depart. A table and chairs had been placed on the dock, near the stern. Four dragoners slouched about, tossing cards and coins onto the table. Two others stood nearby with their fishing poles in the water.
William brought his kandayo beside Sam’s. “That is brazen.”
“They tried to bribe one of my men into letting them stay,” the harbor guard said. “I’d toss the lot of them in shackles, Prince Samahti, but I know you want them gone.”
“I do,” Sam said. “Let’s see what we can do to hurry them along. She could use some air anyway.”
“She?” the harbor guard said.
“Air?” Jejomar asked.
Sam reached into the pouch at his belt and pulled out the miniature cage. He tossed Viti lightly into the open. In the moment it took her to drop to the ground, the spider had grown five feet in height and far more in length. Eight legs skittering and scraping along the wooden planks.
The startled shouts came from Sam’s own party and from the dragoners, who leapt to their feet. Playing cards flew into the air. Fishing poles toppled into the water.
“Get your captain,” Sam ordered.
In response, the dragoners scrambled up the ladder to the deck. The ruckus brought more dragoners to the railing. Dozens of them. They peered cautiously down at Sam and his party.
“The queen gave you her spider?” Jejomar exclaimed. “A little warning, cousin!”
“That is Queen Maga’lahi’s spider?” There was awe in William’s voice, even as he prudently moved his kandayo a safer distance away, behind Kaipat. The harbor guard pressed a hand to his chest, as if to calm a galloping heart.
Sam did not answer. He watched the dragoners part for one of their own, an islander about Sam’s own age, neither tall nor short, dressed in black. Their captain, Sam guessed.
He smiled down at Sam and waved. “Hello! Greetings. That is a big spider.”
Sam did not return the smile. “You’ve overstayed your welcome, and our patience. It’s time for you to go.”
“Yes, sure. We have supplies to load, not many, but as soon as—”
“Viti,” Sam said.
Spiderweb shot from his grandmother’s marking straight to the side of the ship. Viti yanked. The Compass Rose tilted sharply toward her. Half the dragoners sailed overboard, their cries cut off as they plunged into the water. Those who managed to remain on board grabbed desperately on to rails and poles, until Sam gave the order and Viti released her web.
The ship righted itself with a great groan. Thumps and curses filled the harbor as the dragoners dragged themselves out of the sea and onto the deck. Behind Sam came the sound of wheezing laughter. He kept his own expression neutral. When the captain reappeared at the railing, hair standing straight up on his head and rubbing an elbow, his smile was nowhere in sight.
Sam said, “Get your people, and go.”
“Yeah. We’re going.” The captain swung around, then stopped and spun back to glare down at Sam. “Why should you get the eggs? The sea belongs to everybody.”
“Beyond the boundary rocks, it does,” Sam acknowledged. “Hunt whatever you like there. Here, you are in Tamarindi waters. And every drop belongs to the queen.”
We’ll see. The captain did not say the words out loud. He mouthed it, then turned away and disappeared from view.
Sam and his party remained on their kandayos as the dragoners returned dripping wet to their ship. Men, women, a boy aged fourteen or fifteen. The last shouted a string of curses at them, but only after their ship had sailed too far away for retaliation.
“What a brat,” Jejomar commented.
“Sailing under an Esperanzan flag,” William said, red with embarrassment. “My apologies, Prince Samahti.”
“You’re not their keeper, Lord William.” A much smaller Viti crawled up Sam’s leg and back into her cage. “Thank you, my dear.” He returned her to his pouch. And to the harbor guard: “Take down the name of the ship. Let’s not have them back.”
“No,” the harbor guard agreed. “I wonder what their captain is like. Worse, if that’s the sort of crew he keeps.”
Sam looked at the Compass Rose growing smaller in the distance. “That wasn’t the captain?”
“No. He ate some bad octopus, they said. Never left his cabin. That one, he goes by the name Moa.”
When Sam returned to the beach, it was to find Hanalei all alone by the shore. Everyone else stayed far back on the road, most on their kandayos, ready to flee. For in the water, between the shallows and the deep, was a blue seadragon.
“Wait, Prince Samahti,” Liko said, when he would have gone charging across the sand. “I don’t think she’s in any danger—”
“You don’t think?” Sam glared at Liko, at the rest of his guards. Why were they all just standing there?
Catamara placed a hand on Sam’s kandayo. “Look, young prince. Watch.”
“I’m all right, Sam,” Hanalei called out. She did not turn from the sea, but raised a hand in a backward wave to offer reassurance, just as a strange thing happened. Part of the dragon’s frill rose, straight up into the air.
Sam slid off his kandayo, boots landing hard on the ground.
Rosamie’s voice was hushed. “Is it— Did it just wave back at her?”
Hanalei looked over at them, eyes huge. Clearly wondering the same thing. Sam watched as she turned back and raised her other arm. The dragon’s frill rose again. It rose when her arm went up and dropped when her arm came down. Hanalei raised both arms. Two sections of frill rose.
“Catamara,” Sam said, his voice unsteady. “What am I looking at?”
“It looks like your lady has made a new friend.”
“We heard a scream,” Liko said, subdued. “And saw Lady Rosamie running from that rock over there.”
“It scared away the dolphins.” Rosamie clutched a blanket around her shoulders, knees exposed, feet bare. Her dress had gone missing, but she still wore her hat. “And when it saw Lady Hanalei . . . they just stared at each other. Like they knew one another.”
Sam thought of the dragon back in the menagerie, who had watched Hanalei, had seemed to recognize some part of her.
Hanalei kept both arms raised. She moved them slowly from side to side, like palm fronds waving in a breeze. The seadragon did the same, frill undulating, and Hanalei laughed.
“Why isn’t she afraid?” Jejomar asked no one in particular.
Sam was terrified enough for the both of them. “Take this.” He shoved the reins at Bayani and made his way across the sand, slow and cautious. His heart thundered in his ears.
“Did you see?” Hanalei asked when he drew up beside her, water lapping at his boots.
“I saw.” Sam touched her back lightly, resisting the urge to grab her and run. Far away, where she would be safe. “Hana, that dragon can come out of the water.”
“He isn’t going to hurt me.”
“You don’t know that for certain.” Sam could hear the others behind them, creeping closer.
“I do know it.” The face Hanalei turned up to him was smiling, and it was sure. She took his hand, startling him, and yanked it straight up in the air. Every bit of frill snapped upward in response, making her laugh. “I think he remembers me from Little Kalama. He knows I tried to warn him.”
This dragon was playful, Sam conceded. Like a child. Nothing like the fifty sober seadragons back at the menagerie. Because this one was free, his conscience told him. The others were not.
“I’ve been waiting for him to show his claws.” Hanalei looked down at their entwined fingers and dropped his hand hastily. “Do you think he’s holding the eggs? Wait,” she said without stopping for breath. “Let me try this.” And she somersaulted across the sand twice.
The seadragon dove into the water, disappearing momentarily, before shooting straight up in the air. It spun twice before falling back into the waves. Fast, but long enough for everyone to see that its claws held nothing. Instead, two bright pink eggs were visible from a center pouch. A collective gasp rose behind them.
Sam felt as if the air had been kicked out of his lungs. “He has them.”
Hanalei looked as stunned as he felt. “He’s a marsupial.”
“Like a kangaroo?” William’s voice drifted over, baffled.
“The pouch,” Hanalei said. “That’s how he’s been carrying them. I’ve never seen a pouch on a seadragon before.”
Not one but two dragonfruit. And they were so close. “Catamara,” Sam said. “Can we use the darts?”
Hanalei’s smile faded. Her excitement, her pleasure in this beautiful animal, all gone. Because of him.
“No.” Catamara came to stand beside them. “We could hit the eggs. Too dangerous.”
Frustrated, Sam said, “Then we’ll have to follow. Take them once they’re in a nest.” He glanced sideways at Hanalei. “If there were another way, I would do it.”
“I forgot,” Hanalei said, stricken. “For a moment I forgot why we were here. You never forget.”
“She’s my mother.”
The seadragon watched and waited, head tilting one way and the next. Hanalei no longer had the heart to play. Behind them, Jejomar and William threw their arms over their heads, waving madly, but the dragon did not care for them. At last, he turned away, frill flying, and swam off slowly, heading west.
23
THAT EVENING, THEY MADE CAMP IN A GROVE OF mango trees. It was a good spot, close enough to the Nominomi to smell the sea-salted waves, far enough away to flee inland should the guards by the shore call a warning. Ten open-air pavilions offered shelter from sun and rain. They had been built around a common area, one with firepits and stacks of chopped wood left behind by fellow travelers. Each pavilion was small but comfortable, with space for four sleeping mats. Hanalei shared hers with Rosamie.
“How were you not frightened?” Rosamie knelt on her mat, rummaging through a jewelry box made of inlaid pearl. “You didn’t even scream. I must have screamed enough for both of us.”
“You did,” Hanalei told her, earning a dirty look in response. She sat cross-legged on her own mat, pulling a comb through damp hair. Or trying to. It felt like there were knots upon knots, and the constant yanking and tugging was giving her a headache.
The sun had nearly gone, but the cooking fire and torchlight cut through the gathering darkness. From where she sat, Hanalei could see the entire camp. Those who were not settling into their own pavilions sat by the fire, where, by the look and smell of things, supper was nearly ready.
They had just returned from nearby bathing pools. Hanalei had changed into a pale blue skirt and blouse, clean and crisp. Dear Penina. Hanalei did not know how she had found clothing that fit her so well, so quickly. Rosamie also wore a skirt and blouse, in white. Unlike Hanalei, she wore jewelry. Plenty of it. Gold glinted at her wrists and ears and ankle, along with a shell choker around her throat.
“Well?” Rosamie pressed. “Why weren’t you scared?”
To Hanalei, the answer was simple. “He didn’t feel dangerous to me.”
“It’s a seadragon.” Rosamie closed the box with a snap. “Aren’t all seadragons dangerous?”
“They are not. It would be like saying, ‘Aren’t all men dangerous?’”
The look Rosamie gave her was withering. “It’s not the same thing at all, Lady Hanalei.”
“How is it different?” Hanalei countered. “A man will say, ‘I’m hungry,’ and kill a chicken.” She pointed her comb at the open fire where chickens and pigs turned slowly on their spits. “No one ever feels too badly for the chicken. When a seadragon is hungry, it will hunt an octopus or a whale or sink a ship because, to them, humans are food. But I have never seen one terrorize for the sake of terrorizing. The way a cat sometimes does. That is not in its nature.”
“You were not the one swallowed by a seadragon.” Which Rosamie had been, only yesterday.
“We hurt her first,” Hanalei reminded her. “There was a spear in her neck. She was dying. What would you have done in her place, if you were cornered and scared?”
Rosamie regarded her for a long moment. “You’re very odd,” she said finally. “I wonder if that’s why Prince Samahti likes you so much. He’s drawn to strange women.”
Hanalei laughed. “And you’re drawn to insults because you know I’m right.”
“Oh hush. And give me that.” Rosamie came over and snatched the comb away before kneeling on the mat behind her. Hanalei braced for a vicious hair-pulling, but Rosamie was surprisingly gentle, patiently unraveling the knots and tangles.
“My uncle says you work for some sort of school. Does that mean you’re poor?”
Hanalei had just begun to think she liked Lady Rosamie of Salamasina, despite everything. But at her question, the feeling went away. “Poor?”
“Yours is one of Tamarind’s original families,” Rosamie said, as if Hanalei were unaware of her own family history. “But you work for your supper, and even though you’ve returned home, you’re not wearing a single piece of jewelry. Even the apprentices wear gold.” They watched two girls walk by the pavilion, hands over their mouths and giggling over some shared amusement. One was an apprentice in the menagerie. The other labored for Cook. Gold hoops gleamed at their ears.
“I lost my home,” Hanalei said, and felt an ache in her chest. She had never said so out loud before. Hearing it spoken made it feel real, something that could not be undone. “It’s being used for important guests. I suppose the gold is gone too. I haven’t asked.”
The comb stilled. Hanalei turned her head to the side in question.
“Our pavilion is near the queen’s,” Rosamie said. “The room I’m in has a most absurd bed. The headboard and posts are carved with—”
“Seadragons,” Hanalei finished with a faint smile. “My father had it made for me.”
