vicious [d.m]

twelve: sharks & games

There are sharks in the water.

At least Khione thinks so. She stands on the shore, squinting against the sun sinking into the horizon, one hand in front of her face to shield her eyes from the worst of the glare.

But it's true — there are fins in the distance, slicing through the water like hot knives through butter.

"Isn't it past your curfew?" a voice behind her questions. She doesn't turn to face them.

Instead, she points out at the vast sea, still protecting her eyes from the sun. "Are those sharks?"

The voice doesn't answer her question. "Come inside. It's getting cold."

"I'm not cold. Are those sharks? It's not even mating season yet."

"Are you not interested in dinner?"

"Not hungry. Do you think they're here to feed?"

"I couldn't say. Did you attend your lessons today?"

"Yes," Khione answers, half-annoyed. "Cal made me."

"Made you?"

"He does whatever Mama says." Pebbles clink underneath her feet as she steps closer to the water, letting the tip of the tide touch her toes as it rushes up the beach. "They might be dolphins."

"And you don't?" There's a hint of humour in the voice.

"Mama doesn't let me do anything," she says, indignantly, still squinting against the bright rays bouncing off the water, making it sparkle.

She follows the fins with her eyes back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. It's like they're pacing within the water, filled with pent-up energy, eager to hunt something — but she still can't make out what they are.

"Are they circling their prey?" Or are they dolphins playing?

"You'll catch a cold out here. Your mother will be upset."

"She's always upset when you're here," she responds without missing a beat. "You do this to her, you know."

That humour is back. "Do you think so?"

"I don't know why." Khione shrugs, finally dropping her hand away from her face. "You're nice enough to me."

The voice says nothing — and Khione turns to face it finally, scared at the absence.

She looks up at him — at the matching freckles and auburn hair — and repeats, "They could be dolphins."

"No," her father says, eyes fixed on Khione — and she gets the feeling he'd never even looked at the water. "They're always sharks."

———

For the first time, Khione goes to him.

She dresses warm — it's mid-December and the worst of winter settled over Hogwarts last night in a blizzard so terrible, she hadn't left her bed for the better part of the day just to stay warm. But she'd finally dragged herself out of her room to emerge into the frigid air, bundled up in a scarf and a long black coat.

The way down to the boathouse is a perilous one, slick with ice and frost, but she manages without slipping and breaking a bone. The landscape is breathtaking, blanketed in soft powdery snow, thick enough to fall back into and disappear — but her mind is somewhere else, trapped somewhere between sparkling water and grey fins.

The door creaks open as she steps into the boathouse, not bothering to shake snow from her hair before she heads for the little rowing boat. She knows he'll hear her coming — and sure enough, the outline of the trapdoor shimmers as she steps into it, steadying herself as the boat rocks.