Tidal Whispers by Jocelyn Adams, Kelly Said, Claire Gillian, Julie Reece Page B

every flip of the fin planned out?”
    Harmon considered his brothers words and thought back to his pursuit of the pearl. He had no plan. He’d followed blindly. Harmon conjured Miki’s face in his mind, remembering the fury in her voice at the thought of her people suffering, the bravery she displayed fighting an eel twice her length and girth—in the water. His heart squeezed hard with wanting.
    • • •
    Miki had watched Harmon swim until the deep dark waters swallowed his tail fin. She waited, staring, silently counting the beats. The sun’s warmth dried the strands of hair near her face, and she sighed with longing when Harmon far surpassed the time she could remain submerged. To pass the time, she turned her attention to the rows of buoys.
    What was happening on the Inito side of the island?
    Hating to leave the spot where Harmon said he’d return, she reluctantly moved away, treading water forward but glancing back, checking for his white-blonde hair to rise through the surface. He said he would come back, and Miki found herself wanting to see him, craving that jolt of desire she experienced when his soft lips touched her fingertips.
    It’s been so long since I’ve felt a gentle touch, she thought.
    Holding the pearl hampered her swimming, so she laid back and floated towards the closest buoy. With the pearl in her hand, and the sun on her face, she closed her eyes and let herself dream of what it would be like to swim with Harmon, hand in hand, never needing to rise for air, to gaze at him and have him look back at her with smiling eyes.
    Her head tapped wood, and she turned over, grabbing the large, floating bulb with her free hand. She braced her feet against the dangling rope to support herself, the gentle slapping of water against the buoys pushed at her body from all sides. Miki fingered the weaving on the rope, recognizing Taigo’s skill.
    It appears Taigo has been tying knots from sunrise to moonrise, Miki thought, trying to count the wide scatter of man-made domes bobbing in the ocean. What’s at the end of this rope length? She stuck her face underwater, straining to see, but the rope stretched too far.
    The only way to know is to dive, she thought.
    Clutching the pearl, Miki steadied her breathing, readying for one more plunge.
    She submerged, handling the rope, using it to pull herself down. The struggle to greet the deep concerned her, but the desire to know what was tethered on the end of the line pushed her on. She reached the halfway point, and her eyes widened, seeing Taigo’s skill applied to its most proficient array of knots and joinings.
    He had worked the cord to form a pocketed net for a tall row of oysters. Miki had never seen mollusks hung like a string of fish before. Island pearling took great skill to work the shells on the ocean floor. Miki considered the number of divers needed to gather and hang the oysters before her.
    All of them, she thought, all of the divers who died. She was as sure of that as she was certain of the salt on her lips. The Inito’s would have some explaining to do to the elders, Miki thought.
    She checked her surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of Harmon swimming for her. The bright waters bled too quickly to dark. The painful need for air urged her up, and she used the rope to ease her ascent.
    If there were ever a time to breathe underwater, Miki thought, panicking as she watched the dark shadow of an island boat gliding overhead, it would be now. The timing was horribly perfect. The boat’s relentless pace, her steady ascent. Miki knew how the Inito’s handled trespassers.
    The buoys were clearly branded with the Inito’s family crest. The ropes were Taigo’s distinctive design. She’d emerge right at their bow.
    Miki surfaced and gulped air. Water pulled her hair down in long streams, curtaining her eyes. A hand palmed her head before she could sweep away the black hanks, and when that hand plucked her out of the ocean, she yelped in