The Crocodile God

Part 13.

Back in the ship, it's dark and timeless as usual; and Haik is already awake, as he so often is. But when Mirasol eases out from Hadassah's arm, she falls through the bars into Haik's cell, where Lola the dragon hauls out from the shadows.

He chuckles gently and picks her back up. "Let's go on a quest, wifey."

"Where? We can't get off the ship."

Their bodies are unmoved, tranquil and almost unobtrusive.

"To the control room." He tucks his arm around hers, and then they walk through the bars.

But the ship gets clipped by some other great beast, groaning with uncertainty--Haik has to brace an arm against the wall, and Mirasol's pitched against him.

"Is that the kraken?"

"Mga arte-arte--he's too old to be making such a fuss," the dragon grouses. "But maybe he got excited. It's been a long time since he made a rescue; mortals so rarely go voyaging anymore."

"Pinoys travel everywhere, Lola," Mirasol points out. "Like, throw a stick and you'll find some of us wandering around in different countries."

"That's not voyaging, neneng. That's trying to be less poor." The dragon sighs and hunches for balance, more unsteady from that than from the other creature's disruption.

"Kuya?" Mirasol calls. "Kuya, if you go onto the deck--"

But the creature doesn't seem to hear her, only gnawing away with a teeth-itching rip of metal.

"Trouble's not always literal in the spirit-world, love." Haik's eyes are wide and scanning the walls. "This could be a lot of things. Giant squid, merfolk, water-demons, crocodiles. Just all your souls could do it. After all, the feds are punishing you for not having papers--"

Another clang as the panels finally give out. The great beast roars into the hallway with one last scrape of her claws, beak open, with a painted shell and massive front legs.

"Whaaaaaaat is that?!" Mirasol backs up to the wall as the dragon's tail coils around her.

Haik wrenches himself out of his hoodie to show his tattoos, and alongside his nerves, his teeth are beginning to sharpen. "Great Turtle," he begs, "Turtle Island, I am the crocodile-god of the Tagalog tribe, and we do not wish you harm--"

Mirasol searches her memories as Haik's tattooed back-ridges become real ones: She doesn't remember any myths the Tagalogs had of such creatures, whether they're friendly or--

"Turtle Island?" She realizes.

"DON'T BE AFRAID, MIJA." The Turtle is female, and her old voice tears into Mirasol's ears. "I'M LOOKING FOR MY PEOPLE."

"What will you do in the spirit world?"

"Mama Tortuga!" A little boy's soul has darted into the commotion, and he tries to wrap his arms around one of her tree-trunk legs. He cries and pleads in Spanish, and the Turtle nuzzles him with her beak.

"DON'T WORRY, MIJO," she tells him; that's all they understand, aside from fleeting words shared by Filipinos. The boy sniffles with no hint of ear pain, and the Turtle turns to Haik, one eye peering at his scales and crocodile-teeth: "YOU CAN'T BE FULL FILIPINO," she surveys. "YOU LOOK INDIO. LIKE ZIPACNA."

"Well, I'm indio for the Philippines," Haik tells her, laughing, and morphs back to human.

Another beast clangs against the other side of the ship, and Haik winces and scoops up the boy's spirit--though the Turtle laughs.