Listen to the Water | FULL SERIES | Wattys 2022 Shortlist | ✔

(8) Taiki: Underfarrow

The tunnel behind the camouflaged entrance is like the fire-rock tubes of Telu, only much wider. Much smoother, too. I expect to dodge sharp rock teeth on the walls the moment I'm inside, but then the Karu-Kel shuts the door behind us, and I flick on my lights instinctively. The walls around me wear a carpet of shellfish, but the stone beneath looks cut, not natural. Well, some parts look natural, but they've been joined and smoothed and widened into a passageway large enough for Ruka to turn around in, even with Sar.

"Vibi, can you look after these two for me?" she says.

Vibi is behind us, and I don't see her response, but it must be affirmative. Ruka vanishes down the tunnel, navigating easily even without lights. Ande and I are left with Vibi, a woman who looks Ruka's age or older—old enough to be our parent—and clearly battle-scarred. But she has a kind smile, and gives us both a Karu greeting that I return automatically because I'm nervous and everything seems to be going okay, and I want it to stay that way.

Vibi's eyebrows shoot up. "You know Eni-Karu?"

"Yes. I haven't spoken in a while, but..."

But I spent three years on Lix'i. Some part of me still catches and panics when I'm about to say it, but Vibi identifies my accent and finds her answer anyway. "You sound like you're from from the Sand-Coral cluster. South side?"

"Lix'i."

"Thought so."

I'd forgotten this about the Karu. They're so diverse—so many Kel peoples living together in such a small area—that they learn to identify one another from nuances as small as accent intonations and the patterns of spots on tails. Anyone here who's Karu will be able to identify my Karu origin the moment I start speaking, and maybe even from my mannerisms or the way I hold my hands when I return their greetings. There's no keeping Lix'i a secret among other Karu. Then again, for all my fears, I doubt they'll care.

"And your friend?" asks Vibi, her eyes drifting to Ande next. "Islander, yes? Does she understand?"

"Islander, yes. And no. I'll have to translate."

"Do that, then. And come with me. We should stop blocking the entrance."

Ande's watching me, waiting for that translation as Vibi slips past us and beckons us down the tunnel. I catch Ande up on the conversation as we follow. I want to leave out the part about being identified as Lix'i Karu again, but that's not fair when Ande doesn't know and doesn't hear the language. So I give her the whole story and just put up with her smile when I mention the... my island. My other home. Even if I haven't lived there for years now.

Vibi leads us through a dizzying maze of tunnels, further into the heart of the island. All of them are shellfish-lined, which I'm now starting to suspect is intentional. Many twist like fire-rock tubes, but others break off at odd angles, and now and then, there are pockets—little caves—off the sides that also look too clean to have been carved by the mountain itself. It must have been inactive for a long time now. I know there are Karu who build their nests in the rock like this, but this complex is so big, it must have taken generations to carve. They wouldn't do such a thing unless the seamount's fire was well and truly dead.

But more than that, this doesn't seem to be a usual burrowing-Karu nest. For one, there are lights on a few of the walls. The Karu who build these kinds of dens don't need those: like the one who opened the door for us, they have long, thread-like whiskers trailing down their arms, sensory probes to find the walls of the tunnels they're swimming through. They use sound, too: clicks that bounce off the walls, and variations of their language that can be whistled or shouted for use in these stone tunnels.