32. Vesper #3
A minute later, the door is being lowered onto the deck of the ship and we’re surrounded by people administering aide.
Someone tips my chin back and pours a disgusting mixture down my throat that makes me cough and hack before they do the same for Locke.
Someone else starts stripping my heavy winter gear off as it starts to freeze, leaving me in just my trousers and top.
“Warming potion!” someone yells and shoves something else in my face. “Drink this!”
I open my mouth on instinct and it’s poured in. This one is so hot it burns my tongue, but the taste is closer to that of an apple. I take it all as everyone fusses with us, and within a few minutes, I’m able to feel my skin again, though it feels blistered and hot.
“To the rooms to heal, you go!” someone orders, lifting us to our feet.
“Wait!” I say, touching my head. “My familiar—”
“Now isn’t the time, las. You’ve gotta get out of these clothes.”
“Svetlana,” I say, finding her tangled in my wet hair. “Svetlana!”
She’s not moving.
“Get her out of my hair!” I cry, trying my best to untangle her.
Some of the crew surrounding us must realize I’m not going to move until I can see her and start to help, pulling stands of hair from around her.
Finally, after what seems like forever, they set her across my hands, and I get a good look at the forearm-sized praying mantis.
Her body is stiff, her little arms frozen in the air.
“Svetlana!” I cry, dropping to my knees. “I need more warming potion! Please”
“They don’t work on familiars, las. It’s gonna be okay—”
“No!” I cry. “I refuse. Save her! Please! Svetlana! Wake up!”
Locke watches, his expression sad even though he didn’t like her. Tears prick my eyes as I cradle her in my arms.
She turns her head so slowly, it makes my chest hurt.
“Svetlana!” I say, teardrops slowly rolling down my cheek. “Wake up!”
“Umnitsa,” she wheezes. “It . . . was . . . too . . . cold.”
“I’ll save you,” I say through my tears. A sob threatens to fall from my lips but I just barely hold it back. “Hang on for me, okay? Just hang on!” I turn. “The warming potion!”
“I told you, las,” a man says, his brow raised. “It doesn’t work on familiars, but it doesn’t matter—”
“Doesn’t matter!?” I snarl.
Svetlana starts to stiffen further. “Ves . . . per?”
“Yes?” I sob. “I’m here. I’m right here.”
She tilts her head back. “Re . . . mem . . . ber . . . me.”
She stops moving.
“Svetlana!” I scream. “Wake up, Svetlana! Wake up!”
The mood on the deck grows somber as I cry over the praying mantis, as I hold her in my arms. I’d barely found my familiar and I’ve already lost her.
Already, I miss her brutal jokes, her arguments with Locke, her angry rants.
We were supposed to make it through together.
Slowly, her body starts to grow warmer in my hands.
It’s only a little at first, a small inkling of heat that doesn’t make sense against my too cold hands before she grows so hot I have to set her on the deck.
“What’s happening? What is this?”
The crewman rolls his eyes. “Dramatic, las, ain’t ya?” At the look on my face, he shakes his head. “I told you it doesn’t matter. Familiars are an extension of you, las. She’ll just return to heal and then you can call her back out.”
I stare at him, stricken, tears still running down my face. “What?”
“You heal her by healing yourself, las,” he continues. “Didn’t anyone tell you how familiars work?”
I furrow my brows and look at Locke who looks equally confused. “Cipher? Is that true?”
“It is true,” he answers. “Once you heal fully, Svetlana will be able to return as before.”
Svetlana’s body starts to glow hot pink and then explodes into dust. I watch, mesmerized as the small pink specks dance around, sparkling. I lift up my hand, twining my fingers through them. They dance around my fingers, grow brighter, and then . . .
They slam into my forearm so suddenly, I scream.
White hot fire spreads along my skin, pink light tracing the lines of Svetlana there.
The pain from when I first received Svetlana hits me again and I writhe on the deck as I try and grit my teeth against the intense pain.
When it finally starts to fade away, I look down to see the tattoo of a praying mantis again, but Svetlana doesn’t start slicing out. The ink stays there.
Once I’m fully healed, she’ll come back.
“Alright,” the crewman says, shaking his head.
“Let’s get you two in a room and healing.
By the way, this healing service will be three Harrow Coins from each of ya.
Can’t be working for free, see? We had to use the door to the captain’s quarters to raise you.
Ain’t enough lifeboats on this ship to be savin’ all the players who come along.
” He pats me on the head. “Welcome aboard the Titanic, las.”
“I told you they’d both fit on the door,” another man declares.
“You were right, lad,” the one speaking before nods, smiling. “Good job on disproving that theory.”
I’m barely coherent as they drop both of us into a single room. I manage to strip my clothing off once they close the door and slide beneath the covers, but I’m not awake to see Locke do the same. I feel him wrap around me and that’s it.
I dream of killer whales and leopard seals. In my dreams, I don’t survive. In my dreams, they tear me apart with sharp teeth and beady black eyes.