I woke the next morning on instinct, a rhythm drilled into me since childhood. Tuk was still curled against my side, Kiri nestled with her, their faces soft in sleep. On my other side, Jake lay with the boys. They all looked so peaceful, the chaos of yesterday washed from their features.
Carefully, I shifted Tuk from my chest into Kiri's arms. The two girls instinctively curled closer, and I slipped away quietly to begin my duties.
By mid-morning, my chores were done—feeding the ilu, checking nets, tidying the marui grounds—so I gathered some ripe fruit on my way home. When I returned, the Sullys were awake, milling about inside.
"Tsìltsan rewon," I greeted. Good morning.
Tuk darted forward and threw her arms around my waist. Laughing, I lifted her easily, and she clung to my neck as though she'd never let go. I set down the basket of fruit, and Neteyam and Lo'ak stepped in to help carry it.
"Thank you," I said warmly before walking over to where Kiri sat cross-legged, stringing beads and shells into a necklace.
"How are you, Kiri?" I asked, sitting beside her.
She looked up with a faint smile, though sadness lingered in her eyes. "I'm okay. I miss home... but the ocean is peaceful."
Her voice softened on that last word, a small spark of light returning.
"I'm sorry," I said gently, squeezing her hand. "If you want to talk more, I'm always here."
Her fingers tightened on mine, gratitude unspoken but clear.
Across the marui, Jake sat cleaning his weapons. His gaze lifted briefly, watching his daughters with me—Tuk perched happily at my side, Kiri's hand in mine. For a fleeting moment, his hard expression melted, revealing a softness he rarely showed.
I rose, scooping Tuk into my arms. "Hey, Tuktuk, will you sit with Kiri for me while I cut some fruit?"
She nodded eagerly, and I set her down beside her sister before moving to the fire pit. Jake was seated there as well, and as I lowered myself next to him, his arm brushed my leg while he reached behind us to stow a knife. The touch was brief, accidental—but it left a trail of heat along my skin.
I busied myself slicing the fruit, handing portions to the children. Even Kiri accepted some with a small smile. At last, I set aside enough for Jake and me to share.
"How are you this morning?" I asked between bites.
He glanced at me. "Good. We start training today, don't we?"
I nodded.
He hummed. "Are you ready?"
I arched a brow, letting a hint of tease slip into my tone. "The question is—are you ready?"
Jake tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his mouth. "As I'll ever be."
His confidence stirred something in me. With a smile, I stood. "Then I'll fetch the others. We'll begin soon."
⸻
At Tonowari's marui, I was greeted with the sight of Ao'nung and Tsireya.
"Ayla!" Tsireya called, racing forward to fling herself into my arms. I laughed, holding her tight before Ao'nung sauntered up, slower, but his hug was no less sincere.
"How are you, tsmukan?" I asked, ruffling his hair.
"Good," he muttered, before yelping as he realized what I'd done. He darted back inside to check his reflection, leaving Tsireya giggling into her hand. We shared a look before bursting into laughter at his expense.
When he finally returned, grumbling about his hair, I grinned. "Ready to go?"
"Fine," he muttered.
Before we left, I crouched to meet his eyes. "Ao'nung, listen. Be nice. You don't have to like them, but they are here to learn. At least give them that courtesy."
He hesitated, then huffed. "Fine."
I turned to Tsireya. "Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."
She nodded solemnly.
Together we walked back to my marui. Inside, Jake gathered his children as Tsireya beckoned. "Come, we will teach you to dive," she said brightly.
"No funny business," Jake warned his sons, and I muttered under my breath to Ao'nung, "Don't be stupid."
The group headed for the shore, leaving me alone with Jake. He caught my eye, amusement flickering in his expression.
"Your turn," I said, grinning.
He laughed, and together we walked to a quieter stretch of beach.
⸻
"We'll start with diving," I explained. "Breath is everything."
Without waiting, I slipped beneath the surface. The water embraced me, cool and clear. I moved slowly at first, then faster, twisting through the coral. Jake followed, keeping pace longer than I expected, until his chest forced him back to the surface.
He broke the water with a sharp inhale, shaking his head with a grin.
"You're good," I said, surfacing beside him. "We just need you to breathe."
His grin widened—boyish, unguarded. Then his gaze shifted, catching sight of a hunter racing across the waves on a tsurak. His eyes lit up.
"When can I ride one of those?"
The excitement in his voice made me laugh. "That is a tsurak—a warrior's mount. Perhaps you should start with an ilu?"
He frowned, playful but defiant. "Why? You think I can't do it?"
"I—" I faltered, realizing he had me cornered.
A triumphant grin spread across his face.
I sighed. "Fine. You may try."
His smirk was worth the surrender.
Soon, Tonowari and several warriors arrived, steadying a tsurak for him. As Jake prepared, I walked beside him, demonstrating.
"When you're in the air, you kneel like this—" I crouched low, showing the stance. "Then, when you dive back in, body straight, arms close. Hang on tight."
He nodded, eyes intent.
At Tonowari's call, we approached the beast. I touched Jake's arm briefly. "You can do this."
He gave me a sharp nod, jaw set.
Tonowari shot me a questioning look, clearly doubting. I only smiled and signed: Let him try.
Jake swung himself onto the tsurak, gripping the reins. "Nah," he muttered at Tonowari's suggestion of an ilu. "This one."
With a cry, he spurred the animal forward. The tsurak launched into the sky, wings catching the wind. My heart leapt as Jake crouched correctly in the air—then dove. But the force ripped him loose. The leather bindings cut his hands, leaving raw red marks as he tumbled into the water.
I was already there on my ilu, extending a hand.
"It was a good first try," I said gently as he climbed behind me. "Most warriors take a long time to master it."
"When did you master yours?" he asked, breathless.
My ears dipped. "When I was sixteen."
He blinked. "Sixteen?"
I nodded. "I was the youngest warrior, chosen by Tonowari himself."
Jake stared at me with something like wonder. "You've got to teach me everything."
A laugh escaped me, soft and warm. "I will. But first—let's get your hands bandaged."
