And the once-angry mob loved it.
“My brother is better at speaking to crowds,” she said, doing her best to be as close as possible to the picture he painted of the leen who existed only to love her pod, and consequently was inadequate at everything else. This was a much better option than a functionless, fraudulent, heartsick Turnic.
Gryshen continued, “But with your help, and with our bravest warriors, we will be victorious. I’m taking back our pearl.”
Tears spilled over. They were real, and this time she didn’t fight them. They helped. They began to spread contagiously through the crowd. She looked above their eyes, because looking any closer was too much.
“Will you help me?”
The spill of warriors, arms raised, had to be contained by guards. Babes cheered. Pride was palpable. It was time to finish, quickly. “We plan tonight. We will set out tomorrow. As soon as details develop, you will be alerted. Thank you.” The tears came again. She was beyond thankful for them, for Jode, for the chance. And she wasn’t going to let them down.
The guards led her past a still-roused crowd, Jode on the other side of her, his arm squeezing her shoulders.
“I knew you could do it, Grysh.”
“Yeah, with the stage you set, brother.”
“That wasn’t acting.” Jode looked confused, and a little hurt as they made their way to the empty hall, the pod simmering in discussion back in the hub.
“I just mean—”
“It is showmanship, Jode. Don’t deny that. And you are very, very good at it.” Hena’s admiration was all over her face.
“It’s who he is,” Bravis corrected.
“It’s just his beliefs aglow, like his personality’s been lit by a hundred lanterns,” Gryshen signaled softly in agreement, realizing something that made her uneasy. Of course, her brother wasn’t making that up. He was an entertainer, but he was no liar.
“So that was you speaking completely unedited?” Hena looked even more impressed.
“What? Sure. I mean, I didn’t talk about my own fears, or what these last days have been like, because our pod doesn’t need that. They need to believe in something.”
“Like you believe in me . . . ” Tears threatened to betray Gryshen.
“Gryshen, what is it?” Bravis had been watching her, apparently, and he had moved up closer than made her comfortable, studying her face.
“Nothing.” She rethought that flimsy answer. “Everything.”
Bravis looked like he desperately wanted to say something, but his mouth had been pressed shut by an unseen force. There was that softness in his face again, but it was matched by unmistakable concern. Gryshen felt herself simultaneously wanting to reach out to him, and swim as far away as possible. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he might know more of her story than she did, and here he was, not warning the others, not swimming away . . . he couldn’t know much.
After they drank their air, the band returned to their respective rooms, with a plan to meet as daylight hit the cave. Bravis was the lightest sleeper of them, so he would be in charge of waking the rest if they weren’t already up. As exhausted as Gryshen was from the trials of the recent days, she wasn’t confident she could fall asleep easily. Her head was too full. Hena and Jode assured her that with Hena’s planning skills and Jode’s hunting background, combined with Proggunel’s guard training, they would be able to devise a solid battle map. The time now was for rest, since they might not get much once they hit the open water. Gryshen took this as a command, and as she lay floating in her dark quarters, she fought back memories of visions from just hours prior. Her pod needed her. Jode, Bravis, Hena, and the others risking their own lives—they all needed her to be the iloray her brother believed she was.
So, going forward, that’s who she would have to be.
By dawn, Gryshen was startled to discover that she had actually fallen asleep immediately, with only a haze of pictures and pieces of stories floating off to suggest that she dreamed. Her lungs felt noticeably better, and the welts that had appeared on her body from the evil persistence of those electric eels had faded. The rough, raw patches on her fingers and hands from attempting to escape the net seemed to be toughening, and the rashes and streaks of bruising from the giant squid were almost undetectable.
Gryshen considered what a wreck of a sight she must have been when she first arrived back from her paces. She was too absorbed in newfound knowledge and heartache to even notice. Only now, with the healing process well underway, was she able to recognize how damaged she had been. Gryshen remembered her medicine, dipped her fingers to scrape the last of it out, and winced as she rubbed it gently on her gills. They were greatly improved, despite the additional beatings they had taken. She would ask the healers for another pinch before they set off.
“Are you awake?” Bravis’s voice signaled in a hush through the sea glass and braided twine.
Gryshen gave herself a quick look in the mirror. Sleep had been kinder to her face, and for the first time in days, her eyes didn’t look as though they’d been punched. She was skinnier, unhealthily so; she’d barely eaten. The iloray pulled at her braid, letting her black mane flow like a protective shield. She stretched, and finally remembered that Bravis was at her door.
“Yes, I am.”
“How did you sleep?”
Even without seeing his face, Gryshen could tell he wanted to ask so many more questions than just this innocuous one. It was perhaps the best way he could ask how she was doing without actually asking how she was doing, which would, of course, be a ridiculous question to ask anyone who had just been choked and robbed by their betrothed, buried their father, and come out of their spirit quest with a personality disorder.
“Okay. You?”
“Fine.” He paused. “All right. I slept enough.”
Gryshen started a little at the longer-than-one-word answer she had just received. She swam up to the doorway and parted the curtain to find Bravis waiting, a guard not far behind on chamber watch. The guard looked to her, and after she gave a nod, he swam away to catch some sleep before rejoining them later at the hub to hear orders.
Bravis had that look again, but Gryshen didn’t hide behind her sweep of black hair. She stared back, exploring his expression.
Chapter 14
“Bravis, thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here.”
“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I be here?”
“Supporting us, I mean—”
“Yes, I know. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Of course. You were always there for my father, and I know how you keep a promise—I mean, I’m sure you talked about looking out for us.”
Bravis backed up, his mouth tightening. “Oh. Of course.”
Gryshen couldn’t take another space of quiet between them. “Is everyone else up?”
“You were the first I checked on. Shall we see?” They swam down the corridor, a bleary-eyed Jode flopping out of his room, a wide-awake Hena waiting just outside hers.
“Should we wake Apocay?” Bravis looked at Gryshen.
She really could go an eternity without seeing the shaman again. “For what?”
“Spiritual counsel—if you think it necessary.”
“Your shaman is probably useless until he’s had a full breakfast, after his twenty hours sleep,” Hena said with a smirk.
“It’s true.” Gryshen chuckled.
“The crab legs? While we were in crisis? What was going on there?”