I can’t tear my eyes away from him.
His expression is dazzling. His face, mystifying in the soft apricot light, reflects the ripples of the waves lapping the viewport. The only sound to be heard is the comforting thrum of the Kabul, and the thump-thumping of my heart.
My mouth goes dry. I’m drifting into a dream as I stare into the honey-
colored specks in his eyes. His face relaxes, and he moves closer. I hold my breath. His face is inches from mine now. My fingers hover in the air for a moment before they edge forward and touch him. I trace his thick dark eyebrows, a tiny scar at his temple, his high-bridged nose and the smooth, sharp jaw. My fingertips slide all over the deep-bronze skin of his face, tracing every honed angle, every cryptic groove. A rich blush burnishes his skin. I catch my breath.
He’s just so utterly beautiful.
Ari reaches out, his dusky fingers weaving themselves in and around my hair and along its length. He gently brushes his palms across my face before cupping it. I stare at his mouth.
He leans even closer, sealing the distance between us. A sigh escapes his lips just before they touch mine. Soft, gentle. It’s like looking right into the very heart of him. I’m falling into him. Down, down, down. As if we’ve held hands and jumped together into some sweet, swirling vortex. I never want it to end. It’s a magic I never even knew existed. At last we slowly, gently come up for air.
His eyes blaze bright and unbound as they bore into mine. A glittering truth, daring to be discovered. His shoulders rise and fall, and a tidal wave of tenderness lingers at the corners of his mouth. He sighs as he pulls me to him. I bury my face in his chest, breathing him in as he wraps his arms around me. It’s a dream.
I’m not alone. We have the Kabul. Papa is here; my papa is home.
All will be well, inshallah.
I am now armed with so many truths.
What’s the worst Captain Sebastian can do?
On the third morning after Papa’s rescue, I make my way to his room first thing, as usual. Jojo’s already there. Licking his face, the cheeky mutt.
“Oi, you muppet,” I whisper. “Told you not to bother Papa. He’s asleep.”
Except he isn’t. Papa’s eyes—once bright hazel but now dull and
distant—flutter open and shut. He moves a thin, shaky hand. I lift it and place it on my face, cupping it with my own.
Life. It flashes in his eyes. Finally. I shudder.
His lips move and I lean in. His familiar zesty, herby smell is gone, but it will return.
He repeats himself, a croaking sound escaping his throat. “Pickle?”
“Yes. Salaam, Papa.” My voice breaks. “It’s me.” Hot tears well in my eyes until I can’t hold them back. They leak, spilling over my cheeks. “You’re safe now.”
What did they put him through? I swallow, pressing my lips together to stop myself from openly sobbing. I chat quietly, telling him how Grandpa and the twins are doing.
I don’t mention how I can’t communicate with them, or how the authorities have labeled us “wanted.” I don’t say how despite such vast undersea distances, it’s suddenly as if the world’s too small, and finding safe passage and locations for us to hide out in is what consumes me now.
These aren’t the only things happening. I tell him about the Kabul. I speak of Ari.
“You’re going to really like him, Papa. He helped us so much. Jojo loves him. He’s been taking care of everything so I can look after you. Oh, and we have a ton of books now. I’ll bring some in for you soon as you’re up to it. Real Old World books—and the paper smells lush!”
Papa’s breathing slows as he falls asleep, with Jojo now curled up at his feet.
I rush into the saloon to share the good news. The whole world should know Papa woke up, but Ari will do.
My heart soars at the view outside. The water is so much cleaner here than in London. Clear cobalt-blue waves lap at the tip of the vessel as light from both the sub and the early morning solar spheres throws illumination across the mystifying vastness before me, reminding me the world isn’t as small as I suddenly fear. All around, the water is undivided, boundless. As if even time and space have no significance here. I let out a breath; it’s so perfect. I move closer.
A creature hovers in the far distance. It’s the dolphin. Skye seems to be struggling with something. Another sea creature swims toward her. I peer harder. It isn’t a creature. It’s Ari.
I stare as he swims up to Skye and liberates her of a piece of fishing net, sending it sinking into the depths. I shake my head as I watch him gliding through the water.
A human who can breathe underwater. It’s miraculous.
He turns and swims toward the sub. When he’s near enough to spot me in the viewport, he pauses a moment, before drifting closer.
How was I so frightened that first time I saw him in the water that I rejected him? It’s just him. It’s Ari. He’s beautiful. He looks so . . . natural. All that pressure and he shows no sign of it. My lips part as I watch the water flow freely in and out of his mouth.
Tentatively he swims right up to me. I place my hand on the window and smile. A memory stirs somewhere. Ari’s posture eases and his face softens. He mirrors my action, covering my hand with his on the other side.
The elusive memory is alarming now. Strong and insistent. What is it, though? Why can’t I recall it? I look at Ari and he too looks a little dazed. He keeps glancing at our hands and back at my face. Same! I mouth. And then the absurdity of it makes me laugh.
A veil lifts off me. So many things I suddenly want to ask him. So much I still don’t know about him, about his kind, about his life! About their history and what he told me of their problems. I’m ready, I want to say. I’m ready to hear everything!
Ari gazes at our hands and smiles as he watches me grinning.
And then surely my heart stops.
It happens so fast.
It happens so fast I barely understand what’s happening.
I stop breathing the moment I see the net. Thick and wiry and unforgiving. It drops around Ari and draws shut.
I stare at him, numb. His face contorts with rage as he struggles inside the trap. I gasp. Tears spring to my eyes; I can’t breathe. I yell and reach out to him, but it changes nothing.
Ari is hauled up through the current like an animal, toward the shadowy gloom of a vessel far above us.
I scream and beat my fists on the window. Skye appears, clearly distressed as she glides through the water after him. She too disappears out of sight.
I glance up through the waves, squinting desperately to see some sign of Ari, anything.
Nothing.
It’s hard to think anymore. I can’t get Ari’s face out of my mind.
Oscar was unable to trace him. All day the Kabul sped in every direction, but nothing. It’s now early evening. I want to curl up on the floor every time I replay what happened. The look in his eyes when he realized what was happening . . . It’s too much. I can’t bear it.
What do they do to Anthropoids they take alive?
Ari. The staggering strength. The way he cocks an eyebrow. How the muscle beside his mouth twitches and his eyes dance when he’s amused. The way his gaze turns darker and his face clouds when he’s worried. The amber flames that flicker in his irises. Someone very much alive.