A Mermaid's Cry

Chapter 33-Arrival

The sun beat down on us relentlessly as we continued our journey on the waves. When we were not adjusting sails, repairing the deck, and taking turns steering the ship. We all leaned over the ship's rail, watching the shores of islands filled with sea birds and basking turtles, as the schooner glided by.

Though our eyes reveled at the sights, our skin did not fair well under the intense rays of the sun. Without the jungle canopy to protect us, our skin, especially Octavia's, Ares's, Arcus's and mine, became red and in some places it started to peel. Adila and Zola had only a mild case, their skin adopting a reddish hue, but it didn't deter them from breaking out Isolde's sunburn ointment and coating themselves and us in the gel like substance.

"Oh enough Adila," I mutter, swatting her hand away after she places a large dollop on my nose.
"You have basted me enough that I resemble a roasted boar."

Adila rolls her eyes, and swiftly dodges my swatting hands as she rubs the ointment onto my nose. "Honestly Rinthy," she scolds, using the old nickname she called me when we were not but three. "Would you rather be a basted boar or an unsightly peeling one?"

I huff, crossing my arms and blowing a lock of hair away from my face. "I'd rather be a merciless beast cutting into hunter flesh," I growl, as Adila finishes covering my face in the cooling gel like substance.

"Well if that's all," Adila begins, grabbing up the clay pot and rising to her feet. "I'm going to make that cousin of yours see reason before he loses anymore layers of his skin."

With that she stalks off, leaving me free from her forced attempts at healing. Brushes off my pants, I walk over to Zola and Octavia, currently pouring over the maps while Ares maneuvers the ship through another shallow divide between two rock covered islands.

"So," I drawl, stepping up next to Octavia and laying my hands on the wooden crates. "How much farther until we arrive at this human's shores?"

Rubbing his chin, Zola glances down at the collection of islands laid out on the weathered parchment. "Well we have just passed the two barrier islands, the divide is too small for a large vessel, but it seems we are passing through just fine."

Octavia nods, tracing her finger along the shoreline of the large island north of the rock covered isles. "And if you are right, this one is Isla de las Oro, the Island of Gold. A holding of the Dakarians and home to Port Valor on its northern shore. I would hope that your human acquaintance is on the sparsely populated southern side of the island, according to the map."

We both glance up at Zola, daring him to refute her observation. He chuckles, tenderness shining in his eyes as he ruffles the top of Octavia's hair. Tangling the white locks, and sending her into a fit as it took her most of the morning to tame it.

"Oh don't give me that look," Zola teases, when Octavia gives him a murderous glare centered at his throat. "I much prefer seeing you spitting mad, but nevertheless you are right. Our tentative ally is on the southern part of the island, so we won't have to worry about any other humans besides her for a bit."

"So how much longer until we dock?" I ask, mindlessly grabbing Octavia's wrist to prevent her from wailing on Zola.

"Well according to my calculations," Zola begins, tracing our path from the small islands to Isla de las Oro. "We should be at her personal dock about, now."

Suddenly, the schooner jerks to a halt sending us all onto our asses. The grind of wood agaisnt wood, and the abrupt spray of seawater on the deck. Combines with Arcus screaming bloody murder at Ares, grinning as he leans his body on the ship's wheel.

"What in the name of the Mothers are you thinking?" Arcus bellows, scrambling up from the deck with ointment smeared across his forehead.
"You are lucky that your father is the chief. For so help me if you weren't, I'd be turning your hide into a sail!"

Ares laughs, a deep throated chuckle devoid of harshness and cruelty. A laugh that has the warmth of the sun and the spark of old joyous  memories. "And that is why we are friends," Ares replies, leaving the wheel and stepping down onto the main deck.

"That doesn't mean he won't throw you over the side," Zola smirks, wobbling a bit as Octavia helps him to his feet.

Ares rolls his eyes, and continues walking across the deck with bare feet and an easy gait. Knowing his intentions, I scramble up to my feet just as he bends down to give me a hand. "Nervous," he whispers, stepping close enough that if I lifted my hand I would brush his vest covered chest.

"No," I drawl, stepping back a step just as an old sandal appears out of the blue, and hits Ares right in the head.