Read Drowned for Free Online Page B

nobody has presented themselves yet. Maybe Tiam, when he is of age, will be that person.
    I peek inside. They are just finishing up discussing the king’s visit to the platform, obviously, because his cough is the big topic of discussion.
    “Something’s going on. Why was he there?” Vixby grunts, and the group begins to bubble with speculation.
    Ana says something I can’t quite hear, and then, “And if the death of the king is imminent, we must make preparations...”
    Someone talks of Star, but Ana says, “Star is too young to be of any help in this matter. We cannot rely on...”
    “But you are to be king,” I whisper to Tiam.
    He says, “Quiet. No one knows that yet.”
    “Well, they should. Why else would you have been called there yesterday evening?”
    Ana says, “Do we have any nominations?” and a sickening feeling wells in the pit of my stomach. No, this is wrong. There is nobody in assembly that’s fit to rule us. Nobody.
    “Are you going to tell the king? He needs to announce his plans, and soon,” I urge.
    He doesn’t answer, just continues to stare through the peephole, so I do the same. Finn strides up to the front of the room. Vail is another. Ana asks for more, but there are no more. Standing there, Finn and Vail shift awkwardly. I try to think of Finn ruling the world. He’s a good person, I suppose. Another fisherman, he’d been one of my father’s closest allies. He’s quiet, does what he’s told. But a leader?
    “But what about you?” I ask Tiam.
    “I don’t know,” he says. Then he turns to me and smiles. “Don’t worry, little Coe. I’ll think of something.”
    Assembly ends. People disperse, hanging their heads as they leave the compartment. I walk to where Melame Wiggins has positioned himself. Melame minds the tide pools. That’s his job. He’s in charge of making sure they’re clean, and that no scribblers are near.
    We wash in the tide pools. Freshwater, which we get from the rainstorms, is only for drinking, since it can burn the skin off commoners if they come in contact with it too often. Sometimes we don’t even have enough for drinking, so we ration it and we’re often thirsty. Our skin is always coated in salt and sand. I taste salt constantly on my lips, and sometimes they blister and burn. Sand constantly grits in my clothes and between my legs, creating raw welts on my skin, but I’m used to it. What I can’t stand, though, is stinking the way I do.
    This tide pool looks clean and new, as if not too many people have washed up in it yet. Melame, as well as a few others who are lounging in the pool, see me coming. They all start to get out, which is ridiculous, considering I’ve never bathed near anyone before.
    Melame positions himself between me and the tide pool. “You have no place in this pool,” he grumbles.
    “You should know by now that I’ve never bathed in your tide pools,” I mumble.
    He wrinkles his brown face. “Sheesh. You stink.”
    “Does that surprise you?” I snap back.
    I walk toward the southern shore, where I find another tide pool. It is small and free of scribblers. I sink into it slowly, cautiously, and scoop water into my hand and wash it over my arms and back. For thousands of tides I’ve been the vilest person on the island. As if Melame and the others expect that to change.
    If you walk at a leisurely pace, the island itself, when the tide is lowest, can be crossed four or five times in a tide. From one end, you can just barely see the ocean at the other end. It is small, and getting smaller every day. The castle stands in front of me, in the distance, about a stone’s throw from the platform, in the direct center of the island. There’s a bit of a breeze but not enough to sway the tower. I wonder what the princess does in there all day, alone. I wonder if she’s just as lonely as I am. As I’m about to lean my head back against the sandy bank and stare up at the sky, I catch a glimpse of Tiam in the haze on the