at my end of the raft and do my best to remain calm while I assess the situation.
We can't stay out on this raft forever. We have to eat, and drink water, and use the bathroom. Dad will have to sleep eventually, and he won't be able to do that on the raft without the danger of us washing out to sea. I just need to bide my time, figure out where the hell we end up, and then get away.
If there's one thing my harsh life has taught me, it's how to survive. I'll get through this, and then this guy will be sorry he messed with me. With a yawn, I settle in and watch the waves slosh back and forth against the edges of the raft. The kid watches me, and I offer him a half-smile. If his dad wasn't such a dick, he'd be a cute kid, I decide. He doesn't look like the sa-khui, but when his camouflage flutters and shifts in color to match my skin, I think he's flirting with me in the only way a four-year-old knows how.
Pak looks over at the side of the raft, and I do, too. There's a tentacle creeping over the edge of the craft, worming its way on board. Before I can cry out, Pak whips out his hand, grabs the thing out of the water, and twists. Hard. There's an ugly pop and the thing goes limp in his hands. It looks like one of the Flying Spaghetti Monster creatures, just bigger than the small ones we see on shore.
With a delighted expression, Pak shows his catch to his father. The man nods, and there's a hint of pride on his face as he looks at Pak. The little boy turns to me, rips one big, juicy tentacle off, and then offers it up.
"Um…what am I supposed to do with that?"
Pak puts it to his mouth and then slurps it down like it's pasta, right down to the sloppy noises and smacking of lips.
"Oh Jesus. Is that dinner?" I swallow hard. I know a lot of the islanders eat their food raw, but…it's usually fish, and I can trick myself into thinking it's sushi.
This is not sushi. This is slime.
Pak rips off another, the innards splattering across his small hand. He holds it out to me, and my stomach growls. I haven't eaten in at least twenty-four hours, and I'm going to need to eat something soon to keep my strength up. Unfortunately, I don't see a big pot of stew anywhere, or a buffet. "Goddamn it, I'm going to have to eat that, aren't I?" I suck in a deep breath, take the noodle from him, and try not to cringe at how wet and cold it is. "Sushi noodle," I chant to myself. "Sushi noodle. Sushi noodle."
Holding my nose, I suck the thing down.
Pak laughs delightedly at my expression.
"Shut up. I don't like you right now," I mutter.
The father just ignores us both and keeps on paddling.
4
U'DRON
It is clear I am going to have to hunt for R'ven on my own. When another day passes and there is still no sign of her, the others shrug and seem to think she has decided to leave us behind. That she is not in any danger, because there is simply no trail, and therefore she must have hidden it from us.
They are wrong. I know they are.
So I will go look for her on my own.
I get a pack and fill it with supplies, food for several days and a skin full of water. I bring a net and fishhooks, my spear, a fire-making kit and a knife, along with a fur wrap that can be used as a blanket or worn if it is too cold. It is more than I would have brought with me back home on the island, but I do not know this land like I knew the caves and grottoes of my home. I knew the forest floor like the back of my hand. Here, everything is strange and I must be prepared. I wear my thickest boots and wait until it is dark and the stars are glittering overhead.
I should tell I'rec that I am going, perhaps, or A'tam, who is my closest friend. So they will know to come looking for me if I do not return within a few days. I say nothing, though. If I tell I'rec, he will pull rank and insist that I