Listen to the Water | FULL SERIES | Wattys 2022 Shortlist | ✔

(34) Ande: Apology

Moons ago, when I first woke up in the water, I wanted nothing more than to get back on land. It was home, but besides that, it was safer: somewhere without sharks or Kels or demigods, or any of the other things I know my people's next generation will grow up in fear of. It had its own storms and diseases and food shortages, sure, but our god was benevolent, and we would not be divinely punished so long as we stayed out of the sea.

When I realized we were simply misplaced Kels, that view flipped. I began to pray to Andalua, too, in hopes that she would keep me safe in the ocean's depths. She seemed to belong in the deep and the darkness: an entity who shared something with us, and whose messenger—the Alualu—once came and stared at me for a reason that may or may not have been about my dagger. I began to feel at home in the deeper waters. Almost safe, even. Or at least safer than the remaining islanders when the prophecy's time ran out and the water rose to consume them.

The last thing I wanted was for the first view to be right after all.

I think I'm going to be sick. From the look on Sar's face, I don't think I'm alone in that, and I'm glad. I'd rather work this out with them than Taiki at this moment.

I take a deep breath. "What are the chances we're wrong about this?"

"I think we need to assume we're right until something proves otherwise, not the other way around. What did you see?"

"It was healing fast. Those scars can't be more than a few days old. We need to find the Seers and get out of here."

Sar nods, but wilts a little, curling down like they're guarding their stomach.

"I'm sorry," I sign. "I should have stopped him."

Their wince tells me I guessed the cause of that reaction.

"He keeps saying you're lying about something," I sign, "and I don't know what to say. I don't want to force you to talk about things, but it's hard to know who or what to trust when I don't know you that well either. I'm sorry. He keeps telling me to pick between being kind to people and finding the prophecy, and I don't want to. I don't want to have to. So I shouldn't have let him do that to you."

I realize too late that Sar didn't know until now why we wanted to find the Seers. Surprise flickers across their face for a moment when I say it, but then it's gone. Their eyes fix on my hands instead of my face. My uncertainly only makes me want to say more. I'm not justifying myself—I'm trying not to—but they deserve to know the truth while we're still alone and I can actually say it without Taiki jumping down my throat.

"I'm going to try to fight him on it from now on. He doesn't like it. But that's no reason for me to stand back when he's being a piece of"—I supplement an island sign with a suitably profane shape to it—"because he's done things that no amount of not-knowing can excuse, and all I've done is stand back. Or try to fight him but then back down because he plays to things he knows I don't trust myself on. I'm sorry. You don't have to forgive me, but I... I wanted you to know."

My heart is beating in my throat, like it wants to choke me as surely as Taiki's hands could threaten to. "You don't have to tell me what happened. I know you probably have your own reasons for hiding it. I just..." Andalua help me, this is difficult. "I want to trust you? I don't think you're a bad person. You're trying to help, even if Taiki doesn't believe it, and I want to work with you, because I'm pretty sure the things we want are connected. So... I guess I'm trying to say, you can trust me? I hope. If you're doing what you've said you are. And I can keep secrets from Taiki if I have to."

Sar is still staring at me. I can't tell how they're feeling about everything I've just said, but that might be because they don't know either. There's a crack in their expression that's showing through to the intensely vulnerable side of them I saw when I first woke up here. I think I might be onto something, even if I don't know yet what it is.