Kingdom of Salt Read online

  Another thought hit me. If he’d somehow swum us to this island, how the hell would we get off it?

  Maybe he had some way of communicating. Maybe he had a tent somewhere with a phone in it. I mean, he couldn’t live here all the time. He had to get on and off the island somehow.

  Whatever his situation, I needed to keep him on side. That meant I had to play nice.

  I was just getting worried about him when he emerged from the sea, a triumphant expression on his face. He held up his knife; a good-sized silver fish was impaled on it.

  I clapped my hands.

  “Wow. Well done. I love sushi!”

  He stabbed the blade into the sand, leaving the fish half in and half out of the water. He came to sit next to me, staring curiously at my neon pink toes. I followed his gaze.

  “You like the colour?” He threw me a puzzled look. Did he not know what nail varnish was? “It’s like, a kind of paint. For fun. Like using make-up.”

  Gently, he reached out and ran a finger down my arm. My skin tingled. Then he examined his fingertip closely, and I realised what he was thinking.

  “No, the brown is natural. It’s not make-up. I’m half Indian, on my father’s side. He’s from Rajasthan. You know India?”

  He shrugged. I didn’t know if that meant yes or no.

  “Well, daddy’s Indian and my mother’s… she was French. She wanted me to call her ‘Maman’ which is French for mother, but I never got it right. So I ended up calling her Mama instead. She was beautiful, very pale, like you, but with long blonde hair. I don’t look like her at all, except for my eyes. I’m kind of a halfie. Mixed race, they call it. I prefer the term ‘exotic’.”

  I grinned at him, and unexpectedly, he smiled back.

  The breath caught in my throat. His face lit up and his eyes gleamed; it was like watching the sun burst through the clouds.

  I felt the blood rush to my cheeks and tried to hide my confusion.

  “Anyway. What about you, Fish-boy? How did you wind up here? You don’t look Caribbean. Are your folks from Europe?”

  He looked at me as if I was speaking gibberish. My eyes were drawn again to the silver scars on his chest. I motioned towards them with my chin.

  “What happened there? You have heart surgery or something?”

  Puzzled, he followed my eyes and glanced down at himself. Then he suddenly reached out and made a grab for the front of my shirt.

  I slapped his hand away angrily.

  “Not a chance. Just because you saved me doesn’t mean you get special privileges!”

  His lips tightened and his eyebrows drew together. With an exasperated snort, he stood up and grabbed his dagger from the sand, the fish still impaled on it. I scrambled to my feet as he advanced towards me.

  “Take it easy. No need to get excited.”

  He waved the fish in my face, and pointed at it. I frowned, not understanding. He pointed again, and I realised he was showing me the fleshy slits just behind the fish’s head. Then he tapped the scars on his chest.

  He looked at me steadily, waiting for me to catch up.

  My eyes went from his chest to the fish and back to his chest. I looked at the scars. One on each side. One for each lung.

  My brain bubbled. It wasn’t possible.

  I met his emerald stare, the one I’d seen deep underwater just before he’d breathed air into me.

  “So let me get this straight,” I said slowly. “You’re telling me you have gills?”

  And he nodded.

  Chapter Five

  I stared at him, thunderstruck.

  “That’s impossible. People can’t breathe underwater. You’re crazy.”

  He pointed at me, and raised an eyebrow.

  “No, I don’t have gills. Look.”

  Without thinking, I undid a button on my shirt and pulled the neck apart. It was only when his eyes flickered to my cleavage that I realised I’d revealed more than I intended. Thankfully, I was still wearing my camisole top underneath.

  Hesitantly, he reached out. I held still as his thumb brushed the skin under my collarbone gently. I sensed he was only making sure of what he could see; that I had no gills.

  Abruptly he turned away, squatting down by the water’s edge. I watched as he neatly sliced the fish, his knife flashing in the sun, and wondered if he was human.

  He certainly looked human. And yet on closer inspection, there were hints that he was different.

  His ears lay flatter against his head. His skin had that pearly sheen when it caught the light. There was no hint of a tan, even though he clearly spent a lot of time in the sun. His eyes seemed impossibly green and larger than normal, the irises wider. Was that so he could see better underwater?

  I gave myself a shake. It was ridiculous. He wasn’t a mermaid… merman, whatever. He didn’t have a tail.

  Inadvertently, my eyes drifted to his legs. Strong and muscled. Good thighs. I realised my mouth was open again and shut it hurriedly. And his feet… my breath caught.

  Curiously, I moved nearer to him as he started removing the scales from the fish. I was careful not to get too close but there was something about his feet… he saw me staring but didn’t move.

  His toes had webbing between them. It wasn’t immediately obvious when he was standing up, but hunkered down like this with his toes splayed out, it was hard to miss.

  I raised my eyes to his. “You really are a Fish-boy, aren’t you?”

  He snorted, and flashed out his hand, sending a cascade of sea water over me. I scrambled back, squealing indignantly.

  “Don’t do that! I hate the sea!” He looked at me as if I was mad. I raised my chin defiantly. “It’s personal, ok? We’ve all got hang-ups. It’s ok for you, you can breathe underwater.”

  He turned back to his fish and I edged closer again. “Are you some kind of experiment? Or a mutant? Were you raised by dolphins or something?”

  He rolled his eyes, and I flushed.

  “Yeah, okay, that was dumb. But are there more of you? Do you have family?”

  Methodically, he laid out strips of raw fish on the blade of his knife and held it out to me. Tentatively, I took a piece and ate it.

  It was delicious – fresh and firm and sweet-tasting, better than any sushi I’d ever eaten. And I’d dined in the finest restaurants of Japan.

  I took another piece, then gave him a mock-severe look as he sat next to me.

  “Don’t think you can distract me with food. You’re avoiding the question. Do you have family?”

  He looked down at his webbed feet and shook his head. I felt a pang of sympathy.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t have a mother either. She died when I was a kid.” We ate in silence for a while. I sensed him studying me with frank curiosity. “You haven’t seen many humans before?” I asked gently. He shook his head.

  Gesturing at my feet, he raised his eyebrows in a question. I nodded. He drew one of my feet towards him, brushing off the sand and examining my toes minutely.

  His hands were cool, but the feel of his fingers unexpectedly made my skin tingle. I pulled away, using the pretext of reaching for more fish.

  “Do you have a name? That’s a stupid question, you can’t tell me, can you? Well, I have to call you something. I can’t keep calling you Fish-boy.” He looked at me in amusement, his eyes glinting.

  “Let’s see, you don’t look like a Bill, or Sam, or Dave. It needs to be more unusual. What about Ethan? Or Sebastian? Benedict? Mm, Benedict Cumberbatch…” I turned to see him shaking his head vigorously. “Yeah, you’re right. Benedict is a bit of a mouthful.”

  He wiped his forehead, miming relief, then waited to see what I’d come up with next.

  My eyes drifted to his feet again. Those strange little pieces of flesh between his toes. Probably help him to swim faster, I thought. Just like… I turned to him triumphantly.

  “I’ve got it. I’m going to call you Finn.” He looked at me quizzically. “You know. Because your feet are like… look, trust me. It suits you. You okay with that?”

  He considered it. Then he pointed at me.

  “What do you…oh.” It dawned on me that I hadn’t introduced myself. “Sorry. I’m Ash Mitra.” I stuck out a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Finn.”

  Cautiously, he took my hand, engulfing my fingers in his own. We shook solemnly.

  “So tell me, Finn. How do I get off this island?”

  He stood and pulled me to my feet. We walked into the forest, the sound of the surf muting as we entered the shadowy greenness. It was cooler under the trees, but there were also more flies.

  I slapped irritably at a mosquito which had earmarked me for lunch. They seemed to make a beeline for me, leaving Finn unmolested. I wondered if his blood tasted different to mine. Then I wondered if he had blood at all.

  There was no path to speak of, but Finn seemed to know the way. He moved as silently as a ninja, ignoring my muffled curses as I crashed through the undergrowth, catching my legs on twigs and branches. Just when I was about to demand where the hell we were going, we emerged into a clearing.

  There was a boat in it. Or at least, part of a boat.

  The shape of it was there, and there was even a mast lying on the ground next to it ready to be erected, but there was no deck and the hull was partially missing. The wooden framework poked through like the ribs of a long-dead beast.

  All around were piles of logs and bits of wood. Tools lay on a tree stump which was being used as a makeshift work-bench; a saw, a hammer, some nails. Startled, I looked over at Finn and saw him grinning proudly.

  “You’re making this? You’re building a boat?”

  He nodded, and ran his hand over the prow. My heart sank. It was a tiny vessel, scarcely big enough for two people. If it ever g
ot launched, it would barely bob above the waves. I’d never be able to get into it.

  I tried to quell my rising panic. I would do it, I thought fiercely. Even if I had to keep my eyes closed, I would force myself to get on board. Anything to get home.

  “When do you think you might finish it?”

  He held up three fingers.

  “Three days?” I said hopefully. I could manage three days. My hair would be straw by then, and my skin would be as dark as mahogany, but it was doable. I could be back with Josh in no time.

  He shook his head.

  “Three weeks?”

  He nodded. I fought not to burst into tears.

  Finn must have sensed my distress; he awkwardly patted my shoulder. I shrugged him off, my self-pity turning to anger.

  “Why the hell did you bring me to this shithole? Why didn’t you take me someplace with people on it?” I yelled. “There are, like, a billion islands in the Caribbean. You could have dumped me on a beach with decent bars and sun-loungers. I could have been drinking mojitos! Instead I’m in the middle of nowhere eating raw fish and waiting for you to finish this fucking boat.”

  His eyes darkened and he let his arm drop. I bit my lip, feeling wretched.

  “Look, I didn’t mean…” but it was too late.

  He stalked past me, disappearing into the forest. “Way to go, Ash,” I muttered to myself. “Piss off the only person round here who can get you food and water.”

  Slowly, I walked round the little boat. It was kept upright by logs wedged at its base, and the bits that had been finished had been made with a fair amount of skill.

  I knew about boats; my parents had both been keen sailors and I had been taught to sail from the age of six.

  Of course, the only boats I went on now were the massive cruising kind with nightclubs and jacuzzis on board. The type that put several tons of iron and steel between me and the water. But I could see that Finn had put a lot of effort into this.

  I wondered why someone who could breathe underwater would want a boat, but realised that was a stupid question. I could run, but I still liked getting into a fast car. Preferably a Maserati.

  Sighing, I slumped down on a boulder on the far side of the clearing. It was at the bottom of a natural rock face covered in moss and creepers. I hunched forward, resting my elbows on my knees and put my face in my hands.

  I wondered what Josh was doing. Whether he was part of the search party. Whether boats and planes were combing the sea. And if they were, why I couldn’t see or hear any of them.

  After a while, I realised I could feel a draft at my back. Frowning, I peered through the foliage. There looked to be some kind of gap behind the vegetation. Curious, I pushed my hand through the creepers and waved it around. There was definitely a space there, maybe a cave.

  I pulled the ferns and greenery aside and stepped into the cave. The creepers fell back across the opening behind me, leaving me in semi-darkness. The interior was cool without being musty, a welcome respite from the sun. And somewhere in the distance, I could hear the sound of running water.

  My heart beat faster. Water. Perhaps fresh water? God, what I wouldn’t give to wash the salt off my face.

  As my eyes adjusted I realised someone had been there before me. There were rough indents hacked out of the stone, with candles and matches neatly stacked in them. I lit one and held it up. In the flickering glow, I saw this wasn’t just a cave; it was a home.

  There was a table and chair at one side, and on the other, a bed heaped with what looked like rugs and blankets. All three pieces of furniture were sturdy, but had a home-made look about them.

  I wandered to the bed and touched the blankets. They were soft and smooth, some kind of animal skins.

  The table held drawing materials; a large sketch-pad, charcoals, erasers, drawing pencils. Several portraits were scattered around, all of the same woman. I held one up to take a look, careful to hold only the edges.

  She was pale and beautiful, but her expression was full of wistfulness. The slant of her cheekbones and the set of her eyes left me in no doubt as to who she was.

  I felt rather than heard him enter the cave. He was silent, but the quality of the light changed briefly as he slid through the creepers. When he stood beside me, I realised he had a scent. Citrus and sea spray, fresh and somehow wild.

  I didn’t turn, but carried on looking at the picture.

  “This is your mother?” I asked. Finn nodded, taking the picture out of my hands gently. “And this cave… you live here? I suppose it makes sense. If you lived out at sea you wouldn’t be able to draw, would you? Not unless you used water colours. Water colours, get it?”

  His expression didn’t change. I couldn’t tell if he was amused or irritated.

  There was a shelf above the desk, which held a beautifully carved jewellery box. Curious, I pointed at it and raised an eyebrow. He shrugged, so I took that as a ‘yes’.

  Inside I found a treasure trove. There were gem-encrusted necklaces and bracelets, a couple of expensive Swiss diving watches, diamond earrings, a pearl choker. All had been meticulously cleaned and polished. My mouth dropped open.

  “This must be worth a fortune! Where did you get these?” He made a wave-like motion with his hand. “What, in the sea? This is stuff people have lost? What do you do with it?”

  He reached under the sketch pad and felt around, finally pulling out a scrap of paper. It was a faded receipt from a pawnshop on one of the populated Caribbean islands. Understanding dawned.

  “You sell it. So you can buy stuff? Paints? Candles? Tools?” He nodded. “Smart.”

  I picked out a diamond ring and tried it on for size. The polished facets threw rainbow colours onto the cave walls. Mmm. If Josh ever asked me to marry him, this was exactly the kind of ring I’d want.

  The thought of Josh reminded me of the bracelet I’d lost. I replaced the ring and closed the box.

  “Look, um, I shouldn’t have shouted at you earlier.” My voice was stiff. I rarely apologised; I wasn’t used to it. “It was my birthday, you see, and now here I am stuck on an island in the middle of nowhere when I should be partying with my friends. I miss my life!” I looked down at my baggy shirt and battered old shorts. “And my dresses, and my shoes. I have some great shoes.” I ran my fingers through my hair, or at least I tried to. It was matted with sand and salt. “And Jesus, I would kill for a bath.”

  I stopped, suddenly aware how self-centred that all sounded. Awkwardly, I tried again.

  “Anyway. Sorry.”

  Finn stared down at me, as if trying to work out what kind of person I was. My face reddened.

  Suddenly he grabbed my hand and pulled me further into the cave.

  “Hey, wait…” I protested, trying to slow him down. It was like trying to stop a truck.

  I had no choice but to stumble after him, caught in a vice-like grip. He took me to the back of the cave and stopped in front of a massive boulder. It looked like a dead end.

  “What are you…?” Before I knew what was happening, he leaned against the boulder and heaved.

  That’s ridiculous, I thought. There’s no way he’ll move a rock that size.

  Except he did.

  The boulder rolled to one side, revealing a rear exit to the cave. My jaw dropped open.

  “You… how did… Finn, how strong are you?”

  He shrugged. I realised he wasn’t being modest, he just didn’t know. He probably didn’t have anyone to compare himself to.

  He pointed, and I gasped.

  Just outside the cave was a sparkling oasis, a crystal blue pond fed by a thin stream of water which was spilling down through fern-covered rocks. This was the sound I had heard earlier. The whole area was enclosed by wild vegetation; a perfect natural bathroom.

  I held a hand under the stream of water and tasted it. Fresh, not salty.

  Joyfully, I turned to Finn.

  “It’s official. You are my hero. Thank you.” Impulsively I kissed him on the cheek, then pulled back hurriedly, worried I’d crossed a line.

  For one breathless moment he held my gaze. Then he stepped back into the cave and rolled the boulder back into place, leaving me alone to bathe.

  Chapter Six

  I stripped and waded into the pool. It was warm and clear; pure heaven. Taking my time, I washed off the salt which had crusted over my skin and hair.