Noa took another bite of lemon-lime cake. It was possibly the most delicious thing she had ever eaten, crisp on the outside and bursting with sour custard that tasted like sunbeams. Tomas’s father had been sending an endless stream of cakes to the castle as a thank-you for looking after his son. Julian had already sent a messenger to plead with him to stop, as the kitchen cupboards would soon be overflowing, but the man seemed impossible to put off. Noa and Mite didn’t mind.
Noa took a break from writing to flex her stiff fingers. The tide was returning, waves lapping against left-behind shells and little pools of crabs and anemones. Gulls squabbled over a dead fish, and the wind brought the taste of rain to Noa’s lips. A volcano huffed and puffed in the distance, shrouded in a cloud of steam.
Noa went back to the Chronicle, but her skin was crawling. Something had changed. She looked again, casually, and she figured it out. The water close to shore had darkened, as if a thick shadow had fallen across it. Every few seconds, the shadow would undulate back and forth.
“Hello, Beauty,” she called, trying to keep the nervousness from her voice.
The serpent lifted her head above the water. She was so close to shore that the waves broke against the back of her head. “Hello, dear. I hope I didn’t startle you.”
“Not at all,” Noa said. “But I believe Julian warned you against creeping up on people. It’s not exactly polite, is it?”
“You’re mistaken, little Marchena,” Beauty purred. “I was merely taking a nap. I didn’t even see you there.”
“Of course.” Noa nodded, as if she didn’t know that Beauty’s favorite game was getting as close to someone as she could—especially nervous young sailors newly recruited to Julian’s service—and then lunging out of the water with her huge jaws snapping inches from their head. “I’m sorry to wake you.”
“Oh my, that’s all right,” Beauty said. “Do you know, I was having a dream about you. Dear Julian was there, too.” She licked her lips with her black tongue. “It was a very good dream.”
“It’s not good to go to bed hungry,” Noa said coolly. “Though I would have thought you were full after feasting on all those soldiers yesterday.”
“It takes a lot to satisfy me, child.” She sniffed the air. Her huge body made the beach look small. “Dear me, what is that delicious smell?”
Noa unwrapped the half-eaten cake. “This?”
Beauty’s black gaze sharpened. “My, yes . . . Would you be so kind as to allow me a bite?”
“Be my guest.” Noa didn’t think she’d be able to eat with Beauty staring at her, anyway. She tossed the cake in the air, and the serpent caught it neatly on her tongue.
“Mmm,” Beauty groaned. “Delicious!”
“I thought you only ate people.”
Beauty gave a polite little laugh. “Oh, no. Actually, I don’t really care for the taste.”
“I’m not sure what’s worse,” Noa said. “Eating people because you like it, or eating them even though you don’t.”
“Your brother doesn’t seem to object either way.”
Noa looked away, and Beauty let out a low hiss of amusement. The truth was, while Noa and Julian’s mission to retake Florean hadn’t been much harmed by the mango attack, Noa’s secret mission had experienced a setback. She’d been able to convince Julian to set the soldiers they’d captured free, but it hadn’t been easy. He’d been all for tossing them to Beauty, or leaving them to starve on some barren rock. Seeing Noa and Mite in danger seemed to have hardened something inside him, and Noa could tell that he’d only given in because he was tired of arguing with her, not because he saw the point in being merciful to soldiers who, after all, were only following their king’s orders.
Noa tapped the Chronicle. She had to stop Julian from doing wicked things; it didn’t count if he simply refrained from wickedness when she was around.
“What’s all this?” Captain Kell stomped into view, Renne at her side. Kell’s silver hair caught the sunlight like a beacon as her gaze moved from the massive serpent to Noa, insect-sized in comparison, sitting only feet from Beauty’s jaws. “Is this old snake bothering you, girl? If so, I’ll give her reason to regret it.” Her hand went to her sword.
Beauty paid Kell no attention. But then, she usually ignored everyone except the Marchena siblings.
“Let me know if you’d like to chat again, dear.” Beauty licked her lips, spattering the Chronicle with spit. “Particularly if you have cake.” Then, in an uncannily quick motion, she shot back out into the deep.
“It’s fine,” Noa told Kell, shaking off the Chronicle. “We were just talking. I gave her a piece of cake.”
“Cake?” Renne repeated, blinking.
“Yes. Apparently sea serpents can’t get enough of it.”
Kell shook her head, her sun-darkened face creased with a frown. She looked halfway presentable, her wild silver hair tied back and her clothes relatively free of holes, which meant she must’ve just come from a meeting at the castle. Normally, Kell looked exactly like the ex-pirate she was—which is to say, like she’d just been rescued after a month on a deserted island, possibly with a tsunami thrown in somewhere. “What have I said about talking to that creature? You can’t get pearls from an anemone. D’you know how many ships I’ve seen sunk by serpents, torn right in two with all hands lost? Leave her be, child. She’s the king’s folly and nothing to do with
