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

(21) Moontails

We arrive at Roshaska's heart before I think more than once what might lie there. For a moment, I think we've found another crater like the great stone hole we threw Hahalua's offering into. The wall that circles it, though, is coral and stone. Masae moves aside, and the goma comes forwards with her bundle. I half expect her to tip it over the side like she did the last two times, but she swims into the void instead. Masae beckons the rest of the tribe.

I still can't shake the feeling that I'm entering the mouth of dead fire-mountain as the wall of this cavern rises behind me, curving like this whole place was once wrapped in a monstrous dome. Where the rest of Roshaska is rough enough to lose scales on, every surface here is pebble-smooth. I jump as something behind me sparkles. I light my hand the barest amount. Shell mosaics carpet the inside of the wall, white and pink and clamshell purple. They alone are spared from the algae's crawl, though the mortar between them is stained black and crumbling. I want to light my hands further to see what picture—if any—they make, but I don't dare.

We are forced away from the wall when we hit the first rubble piles. Great, curved slabs of the once-roof lie cracked or crushed beneath whole fallen dens that must have been built on top of it. The reflective shine of shells winks at us from swaths of the rubble. Masae and the goma have pulled ahead. I swim to catch up. I want to see where they're going to leave the bundle.

This, in the end, is nothing spectacular. At what must be the center of the dome, the goma comes to a halt over an upturned den. It's intact: a bowl the size of my parents' hut, resting in the ruin like it wants to catch the fallen sky. The tribe Kels fan out in a circle around it. Hands drop and eyes close. The goma begins to sing.

I can barely keep up the illusion of following the tribe's lead. I want to explore this place. I want to see those murals and swim through those ruined dens. It's a morbid urge, but this city is old enough that I doubt I'll find bones. I do want to find out what wrecked it. And how long ago. The only things I know that could do this kind of damage are gods and demigods, and I doubt even the latter of those. If it was a god, though, it would have to be Andalua... and Taiki's been clear that she's benevolent towards the Kels. At least as far as they believe.

A shiver runs up my arms, and I hug myself. I don't trust Andalua, but there's another possibility, too. It would have to be Andalua, unless there's another god down here that escaped her song.

I have no context for understanding any of what I'm seeing. I want to ask Taiki, but he and the scouts keep their gazes up, roving back and forth across the sky in a ceaseless search for danger. Satomi has her head down, but I can see her head shifting imperceptibly, like she's only pretending to close her eyes. If we're going to be attacked, it'll happen here, while the tribe is distracted.

But the song ends, and the Kels lift their heads. We cross the rest of the fallen dome and swim back up over its rim. I manage to surreptitiously nab a loose shell from the wall on my way by. I want proof that I came here, when I get back to Telu. The flaw in this plan becomes apparent the moment I move to stash the shell: I have neither a bag, nor pockets, nor a waistband, nor even a proper belt. I spend at least half the city crossing trying to find a way to carry my new keepsake, but it's about as fruitful as looking for bananas in a coconut palm. I reluctantly let the shell drop again.

At last, we reach the city wall again. Water erosion hints that the trained currents once flowed off the streets and out through the large gaps in its perimeter, giving the wall a more reasonable use than defense. I look behind me as we leave. I am met, of course, with darkness. Imagining the city in the sunlight, or filled with bioluminescent lights, keeps me occupied for some distance, until the scouts' tails flash a brilliant alarm.

The water goes dark, and I am grabbed before I can scatter from the Kels. The tribe bolts. I am dragged for several arm-spans and have my dagger halfway out before I realize it's a tribe Kel pulling me. I shake them off and outpace them. Kels around me shoot upwards. I nearly crash into rock before I realize what they're dodging. The current flowing down the canyon gives a split-heartbeat notice of each new obstacle. We whizz over them and weave crazily along the canyon bottom, the squid Kels jetting backwards as fast as I can swim. I can't see our enemies. The Risi shoals are gone. Did the tribe abandon them?