14 Imogen
Imogen
I stumbled through the fog, crossing the busy deck with hands held up before me. Bright lanterns danced overhead. That strange music still twisted through the thick air.
But I don’t see you the way you see yourself.
A pressure built behind my eyes, in my chest, but I fought through in search of the lower deck. I needed to hide away in my cabin. Needed to shore up the gaping hole Theodore had just knocked in me.
I looked for the towering shadow of the mainmast to orient myself in the haze, but I found myself at the ship’s helm instead.
In a pool of light that spilled from a cluster of lanterns sat a table laden with wine and food.
A tumble of red flowers ran down its middle, like a vein bursting with the blood of spring.
Barely shrouded by wisps of rolling fog, and talking closely before the door to Theodore’s stateroom, sat Markis and Halla.
Across from them sat Aleka Baros, nursing a small goblet of amethyst wine.
Halla straightened when she saw me. Even in the dampened light her white gown looked radiant. The shells and gems stitched into it resembled the intricate patterns of frost and spread all the way from the scant bodice to the clinging skirt.
They all looked up at me in silence and took in the details of the gown I wore—a Godsdamned Leucosian binding gown. Markis lingered on the lines of the fitted bodice, but I watched Aleka’s gaze narrow as she noted its stitching.
My face grew hot.
“You’re looking… poignant… this evening, Your Majesty,” Aleka said, the words thoughtful and soft. Her voice was decidedly calming, even if her words made my nerves coil. “And looking surprisingly well after this morning’s incident.”
I swallowed. “His Majesty is an excellent healer.” My fingers dug into my skirt.
“And I mean no offense. There was nothing else for me to wear.” The moment I’d said the words, I wished I could have pulled them right back.
I should have worn a clean sailor’s uniform.
Even the ale-scented sleep shirt I’d woken up in would have been better than this.
Aleka shook her head and spoke with sincerity. “No sovereign need explain themself, Your Majesty. The dress is lovely, and you look lovely in it.”
“Oh,” I said, stunned. “Thank you.”
“You’re not wandering the ship without your guard, are you, Your Majesty?” Markis asked before I could leave. There was something warring in his look. It was lecherous and disapproving at once and filled me with unease. “Seems unsafe for us all that you might be unattended.”
I offered him a sharp smile. “He’s closer than you think.”
Halla gestured awkwardly to the chair beside her. “Please, sit. Eat.” She gave me a broad smile. “It would be good to speak.”
No, I didn’t think it would be, but the sudden warmth in her made me tilt. Looking at her now, with the image of a young Nivala so fresh in my mind, was jarring too. They were so alike, with their fine noses, rounded cheeks, and bright blue eyes.
I glanced toward Markis, who held his goblet firmly and ate from a plate of meat and fruit, then Aleka.
She nodded encouragingly. “Do join us, Your Majesty. Perhaps Steward Gabros will feel safer having you where he can see you.”
Feeling disarranged, I stepped toward the proffered chair and sat. Halla watched me intently, quietly.
“Do you know how far we are from Anthemoessa?” I asked, trying to ground myself. Thinking of my task and of getting to Agatha felt sturdy and soothing.
Markis popped a grape into his mouth. “We should arrive sometime tomorrow, if weather sees fit. We’ve made good time up until this fog. Let’s hope it passes.”
I watched with my hands in my lap as Halla poured me a goblet of wine, and the memory of that vision rose up once more. Halla as a screaming babe, suckling at her mother’s breast. Her ordinary blood being squeezed from her foot to feed Eusia.
“That’s good,” I said, absently. One more night and I’d be close enough to Agatha to help her. Close enough to Eusia to end her. “And the captain thought it wise to continue on course with the fog this thick?”
Aleka set down her goblet and drew a finger around its rim. “She has this stretch of water very well mapped. It’s deep and free of obstacles.” She gave me a keen but not unfriendly look. “It’s not until we draw nearer to Anthemoessa that things will turn treacherous.”
I shook my head, hoping to dissuade her worry. “I’ll keep the ship safe then.”
Aleka’s brows rose in agreement. “Despite the way this morning ended, the captain’s faith in you seems to have been restored after your spell.
She said the boat pointed in the exact right direction.
” She gave me an approving nod, though I couldn’t tell if she mocked me with it.
“I myself am most eager to see how you overcome the sea monster.”
Halla knocked the wine flagon into a nearby glass. “The what?”
My grasp on the stem of the goblet Halla had set before me tightened as Aleka gave her a measured, assuring look. “I saw it with my own eyes. Decades ago. But never fear,” she said. Her gaze cut to me. “We have a Goddess among us.”
I tilted my head, disbelieving. “A sea monster?”
Markis snorted and took a deep swig of his wine. I couldn’t get a measure of Aleka or how she regarded me. She was as neat as her high, pressed collar, and just as unflappable. It unsettled me more than Markis’s lascivious and outright dislike.
Halla’s color was already off, seeing as how the ship bobbed like a cork, but she went paler. She fixed her unblinking eyes on Aleka. “You have been to Anthemoessa before?”
Aleka twisted her goblet. “Oh yes. Twice with King Athan.”
“Tell me of it.” Halla leaned in, despite her obvious fear. “And of its monster.”
Aleka’s laugh was prudent and throaty. “I have no better word for it than monster, but I cannot say for certain that its intent was malicious. Or that it spawned from malevolence. I suppose a monster is named by those who have cause to fear it.” Her dark eyes slid to me again and held.
“But for this story, the name monster will do.”
She took a sip of her wine and said, “Now, King Athan was quite an exuberant adventurer, and while on a trip for Della decided to make a hard turn west to explore the ruins of Ligea’s castle.”
I went still as I listened.
“My, the king was young, and so was I, so rather than give him advice to remain on the ship, I found myself standing on the main deck, watching him and some crew row a launch boat through the jagged outer reef of Anthemoessa and into the black water of the lagoon. All seemed well at first. He got nearer to the ruins situated on the shore, but just as they got close to the sand, something curved through the water and knocked violently into the boat’s hull.
It tipped, and one of the crew fell overboard. ”
I hung on to the marshal’s every word, as did Markis, but I couldn’t help but notice that Halla was truly riveted. I wasn’t sure that she breathed. Her hands were so tightly interlocked that they’d faded to the color of parchment.
Aleka took another sip of her wine.
“Go on,” Halla whispered when Aleka tarried.
“That sailor was lost to the sea,” Aleka finally said.
“He never broke the surface again to fight or gasp for air. He just… disappeared. The monster that haunted the lagoon wrapped itself around the launch and tried to pull King Athan down too. On the ship, the crew and captain scrambled to send more launches to save him—our harpoon cannons were useless so far out. In the end, it was King Athan’s strength and acumen with a sword that saw the monster injured enough for the men to free themselves and row back to the ship and to safety.
He never tried to explore the ruins again, claiming that the thing he’d fought in the water was unnatural. Not entirely a creature of the sea—”
“What was it, then?” Markis asked, dubious.
Aleka shook her head. “He refused to say. But he declared the blighted island to be truly dead, truly impassable, and said its only inhabitants were dangerous, inexplicable, and not to be disturbed.”
Halla shook her head, looking terrorized and awed.
Markis ran a tense hand over his beard and gave me a scathing look before he downed the remainder of his wine. “Lovely.”
I finally took a swill from my own glass, but it did nothing to help the churning of my stomach. “That’s a thrilling story,” I said, forcing a smile.
Aleka shrugged a shoulder, her air placid. “Perhaps, Your Majesty, you will discover just what lurks in Anthemoessa’s waters and slake our curiosity once and for all.”
Wonder had joined the trepidation in Halla’s rounded eyes. She looked to me. “You must have your own stories of the island, don’t you? It being your mother’s queendom and all?”
Halla had no idea that I likely knew as much about my mother as she did. I was in no mood to tell her. “I’ve never been,” I said glibly, scooting back my chair. “If you’ll excuse me.”
She reached out and grabbed my hand. “Please.”
Whatever look she saw in my eye made her straighten and pull her hand from mine.
When she spoke again, it was with a lilting, unassuming softness.
“I have thought about why you came for me,” she said.
“About what my mother has done, and what you said when we were in your cabin. How you need my help. Your spell was rather…” Her blue eyes searched mine, as if even the memory of the spell was remarkable.
“It was impressive. Only Eusia has proven such power. I was taught there was no other like it in the entire realm. I know now that was a lie.” She looked wounded and her shoulders sank with regret.
“I will help you when we reach Anthemoessa. I do not wish to see Eusia, or my mother, continue to cause harm. But I find myself fearful of the magic. How it differs from the power of your Gods and Goddesses. I thought learning some before we arrive might help.”