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

(20) Roshaska

The offerings, I learn, are indeed all for safe passage through this part of the ocean. The one to Andalua is customary, a tradition going back as far as the Kels can remember. The other two are more recent additions. I watch the murmurings about Hahalua and Gutu and can't shake the feeling of betrayal by the once-friendly demigods. Gutu at least hasn't attacked anyone yet. A different tribe found her acting strangely the year before, and spread the warning to everyone they met. Her offering is a precaution.

The tribe is headed towards the open ocean, far from the island chain that Telu is a part of. The sea there is empty save for scattered atolls—reef-ringed lagoons—and the occasional tiny island or seamount. It's an area the Sami still hold, though how far the Karu have pushed into it in the last four moons is unknown. Apparently this trip happens twice a year, with the tribe dividing their time equally between the island waters and the Sami-sana.

Taiki has been sent off with the scouts to assess the Sami situation over Roshaska, so I locate Satomi instead. She's taken to swimming at the edge of the tribe, keeping watch over the broad, silty plain we've been travelling across for a while now. I join her. When the silence gives way to small questions, I gauge how open she is to talking, and what kind of talking will get across best. She's serious, but not unforthcoming. The conversation steers naturally in the direction I want it to, until it's finally appropriate to ask why the tribe moves so far, so often.

"We go wherever the Sami and Karu don't," is Satomi's immediate reply. "They fight over the islands twice a year when there's more food there, so we leave."

"Why not stay out here, then?"

She gives a dry smile. "Because as soon as they don't need to fight for the islands, the Karu start trying to invade Ashianti territory again."

So the island chain and open ocean are a rotating battlefield. I've also learned about the Ashianti before; I distinctly remember Taiki giving me a lip-read on that word. Unless I'm very much mistaken, they're the famed Risi-singers who can control anything they choose. Also unless I'm very much mistaken, they're Sami.

"But the Ashianti don't mind us being there?"

"In the three-moon deep?"

I'm assuming that means the ocean under their territory, where the tribe spends three moons twice a year.

Satomi shrugs. "Not really. We don't bother them, and they don't bother us. They also hate the Saru and other Sami, so they drive most of those out of their territory. Their queen even refuses to join the Alliance."

That seems like something that could put a group in the unfavourable sights of most shallow-water Kels. "Have you ever... I mean, tried to make an alliance with them?" Satomi's expression is already giving me my answer. "Or talk to them, at least?"

"They're Sami," she signs, like that makes the answer obvious.

I don't find it obvious. She's the one who's bent on keeping her people safe. If the Ashianti are less hostile than other Kels in the shallows—and enemies with them, no less—being on speaking terms could be valuable. Even manipulating them into being on speaking terms could. The Shalda-Kels might learn who keeps picking off their tribes, and I'm sure the Ashianti could find some benefit, too.

Satomi's expression has set like hardened clay, though. I get the distinct sense that pushing this topic won't end well. Normally I wouldn't care, but this is one Kel I'd rather not lose my rapport with.

I change the topic to mitigate potential damage. "Is there a less dangerous way out to the three-moon deep?"

That succeeds in un-hardening her expression, and I detect a tinge of grief before she signs, "No. It's the only place the currents flow in that direction, and the Risi can't swim against them. We come back by another way, though."