The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (boyxboy)

CHAPTER 16

The Merry | Present Day

Az falls into being comfortable around Kaeltki with startling ease and speed. Where once the siren's friendliness had him tense with suspicion, it takes only a handful of days for him to look forward to it. Not counting Noah, Kaeltki is the only other soul here on the ship who seems to look on him with kindness and civility. Az brings the siren his meals, and they can sit in each other's company and talk. Or not talk, which is just as pleasant and relaxing.

Maybe Az starts to feel like they're sharing this experience — this ship is their shared prison, Slade their jailer, and Paver their warden. It's no effort at all to ignore how much more freedom he has than Kaeltki, who is chained like a dog in this dark room, and can only shift around to relieve his discomfort in that small washtub when Az visits twice a day.

His first stops of the day are quick, and usually come just as the warm colours of dawn wash away to the bright blues and whites of morning. After dinners, Slade seems to be affording him more time to do as he likes. He can bring Kaeltki his food and stay for however long he pleases, or at least for as long as he can keep his eyes open.

Kaeltki perks up every time Az steps into the room. Greets him with a gleaming smile and earfins perked up. He can usually find something to talk about while he eats, making it so easy for any lingering tension to melt away. He will ask questions, tell stories despite still appearing guarded when it comes to doing so, he will comment on the food. Sometimes he even asks Az about the weather, of all things, and later as he's trying to fall asleep he will marvel at the fact that he makes small talk with a siren on the regular.

Az comes in one day with a book tucked under his arm, which he's never done before, and Kaeltki is on it at once.

"What's that?" he asks, disregarding the plate of food in Az's other hand.

"A book," Az replies, understanding that Kaeltki will have no idea what a book is.

The siren has an abundance of questions. What is a book? How do you make it? What is writing? What are letters? What is paper? How many are there? Information on what? Stories about who? Why? Why not?

Az isn't very good at explaining things, he thinks, but somehow Kaeltki comes to comprehend the notion that a book is a way to record information. Written word, it seems, is a harder concept to grasp. Sirens don't have writings. They will draw pictures in the sand that are destined to be swept away by the currents and the tides, but it's an activity almost exclusively partaken by children. They don't keep records of facts and history and how-tos. They pass down their teachings orally, adult to child, expert to novice.

"Don't get any water on it," Az warns, keeping a protective hold on the book when Kaeltki reaches with eager fingers to pull it over and inspect it up close.

He is careful as he promises, but his eyes sweep back and forth rapidly across the pages, a frown creasing his features. Apparently he imagined something more akin to the pictures his kind might claw into ground. Az flips to a page with a diagram of some kind of common jellyfish, and Kaeltki is enamoured with the detail captured there. He looks and looks, traces a dangerously damp finger over it as if he could feel the frills on its underside.

Reading doesn't come easily to Az like it does to someone like Slade. He's never been formally taught, and he'd had but one hasty lesson on board The Oriana at Ginger's enraged behest, which could hardly be considered learning. Really, Ginger had only had time to go over the alphabet, and teach Az how to write his own name. He knows it's far more complicated than simply kind of knowing the alphabet and how to sound out letters, but it's all he has, and with enough time and effort, there have only ever been a handful of words he couldn't figure out, and most of them have been relating to animals he's never heard of anyway.