Chapter Eleven
Body free of drowsy painkillers, sleep evaded Nick.
The bed rocked in the gentle sway of the ocean, and all he could think about was the veranda doors in Laurence’s room at Vi’s.
Were they latched? Was the key in the lock?
Was Laurence even there? He tried to convince himself that Trevor would insist on Laurence going back home to Ireland.
But even if that was true, that still left Trevor.
His dad wouldn’t leave this world without him.
Nick rolled out of bed and checked the little porthole. It was too small for anyone to crawl through, and it gave him no satisfaction to find it latched. Each lap of the dark room left him more agitated than before. His mind wouldn’t stop obsessing over what had happened earlier to Kit.
With a curse, Nick lit a lantern, turning a dial on a little contraption like Mini had shown him—with a perverse delight that he knew how and Nick didn’t—and left the bedroom.
He shone his light on the kids, making sure those who weren’t scheduled to a watch were sleeping in their hammocks—Nick had memorised the schedule—and then continued on to the mess hall where the jobs board hung.
The one person he wanted to find was the only one not listed. Agitated, Nick marched above deck.
A crisp breeze met him, spreading goosebumps over his bare arms and legs.
A skeleton crew manned the deck, keeping the ship moving smoothly through the night.
Nick tipped his head back to the mast lines, seeing two kits nestled together in the crow’s nest. He waved his arm, and immediately one leapt out over the railing and slid down a series of ropes so fast he seemed to be flying.
Mini arrived with a flourish, flipping into a crouch, tail swinging out as a counterbalance. Nick took in his pink nose and ears. He had on a jacket, but faint vapour ghosted the air between them.
“Are you cold up there?”
Mini shook his head. “Kits run hot. It’s why Captain Hin assigns us to the nest for lookout.”
“He assigns you to the nest because you can near as fly.”
A grin tipped up the corners of Mini’s mouth.
Nick shook his head. From the crow’s nest, the other kit peered down at them, interested, probably bored to be up there staring at empty oceans.
Night emphasised their isolation. There were no lights on the horizon, no distant black shapes of land blocking out the night sky speckled with stars. The moon was too blue and full.
“Anybody around to break in?” Nick wanted to wallop himself over the head for the question. It was ridiculous. Nobody was even on board for Nick to be afraid of getting kidnapped! Why were his lungs so tight?
Mini shook his head. “We’re taking the ocean to avoid that.”
Nick frowned. “Wait. Do break-ins on ships actually happen?”
“On the Dia River,” Mini confirmed. “The rebels haven’t let a ship slip past them for months now.” His eyes slid over Nick’s exposed arms. “You’re shivering. See? Regular people get cold too quickly.”
“You’re wearing a jacket.” But Nick was satisfied to see the red had faded from Mini’s face. Probably just blood flow from climbing down to Nick. “I’m looking for Kit,” he said.
“Med bay.”
Nick tensed. “He’s hurt? She didn’t call for him again, did she?”
Mini shook his head. “He’s doing paperwork. You’re in his office.”
“Right. Thanks.” Nick checked that there was nobody within earshot. “Good job earlier for looking out for Kit. Cutting that rope? Genius. If you see Kit getting summoned again, get me. I’ll do something.”
Mini peered up at Nick’s face. “You will?”
Nick didn’t know what he could do, but…he’d make something happen. “What she’s doing isn’t okay. And she…” Nick waited as a sailor marched by. “Do you know what she is?”
Mini’s gaze flicked from side to side. “You can’t talk badly about nobles, or they cut your tongue out…” His voice dropped so low Nick could barely hear. “She’s powerful. You can’t hurt her; you can’t even want to hurt her when she’s in front of you.”
“I disagree.”
The look Nick got was pointed. Meaningful. “Ever since her husband left, Kit’s been her favourite.”
Nick scrubbed a hand over his face. That was far from what he wanted to hear. Across the deck, leaning against the steering wheel, Captain Hin watched them.
“You’d better get back to your watch,” Nick said.
Mini followed his gaze and shrugged. “Hin goes easy on us. He’s just scowling because of the damaged ropes.”
“Wait. He knows you cut them?”
Mini nodded. “He likes kits, says we’re very useful on the lines. He’s the one who taught Kit how to sail when he was young. You should really go warm up; you’re turning blue.”
Mini trotted away and scuttled back up the lines.
Nick waited until he had safely made it to the crow’s nest before going to the med bay.
Two of the beds had ailing sailors. The third had Kit.
He was sitting cross-legged with pages spread around him.
Kit looked up as he entered the room and frowned in concern.
“Has your headache worsened? I noticed these past few days you have not been sleeping well.”
The med bay had two closed and latched portholes and a door that would remain open and unlocked given the function of the room.
Nick stood right against Kit’s bed, fighting against his own instincts, but caved with an internal curse.
He gathered up all of Kit’s pages into one arm. “Come on,” Nick said.
Kit frowned but didn’t object, following Nick to the bedroom. Nick set all his documents on the table. “Just do your work here, don’t take up someone’s sickbed.” His voice was decidedly gruff.
Kit was silent.
Nick placed the lantern on the table, then double-checked the porthole was latched and the door was securely closed.
He hesitated, wanting to lock it. But. What if Mini or one of the kids had an emergency and needed to get to Kit?
Nick would at least wake up if that was the case.
Plus, the door creaked when it opened. Nobody could sneak in.
Nick checked the bathroom was empty, and finally, the tightness in his lungs released.
Nick heeled off his boots and climbed into bed.
He purposefully lay with his back to Kit, though he felt the weight of his gaze burning the back of his neck.
Nick waited, tense. He really didn’t want to explain to Kit the complicated rituals he needed to sleep.
How, despite Kit’s superior physical strength, what Nick witnessed had landed him firmly in the need to protect category of his subconscious mind.
Kit’s clothes rustled as he sat. Pages crinkled, and then there was the sound of a pen scratching against parchment. Nick breathed in deeply. The room always smelled faintly of soot and salt, but also of the tea leaves, beeswax and that faint ochre musk that clung to Kit’s skin.
“Where do you sleep?” Nick asked. He peered across the room at Kit, who had moved the chair around so it angled towards Nick.
His tail was relaxed—Nick was getting good at reading Kit’s mood from his tail—but the look that crossed his face was one of distrust. “I haven’t hurt the chickens, or your little minions, or the coffee beans. ”
It was, as far as arguments went, very weak. But Kit inclined his head anyway. “The rooms just next door. I borrow whatever hammock is free.”
Nick could work with that. “Alright.”
He turned his back to Kit again, and Kit thankfully didn’t ask him about why he was acting like a total weirdo.
◆◆◆
Nick woke slowly to the kits having their morning lesson, and he was content to doze as Kit’s calm voice guided them through mechanical drawings.
Mini, despite his late-night watch, was apparently excelling as usual.
Nick wondered in his half-asleep state if Kit knew that Mini had cut that rope to get him away from Desre.
And then Nick wondered if all of Kit’s crew knew what she did to him.
Yesterday hadn’t been a one-off. Kit’s reactions told him that much.
And it had softened him entirely—how could Nick stay mad at Kit for doing what Desre asked, when the alternative was that?
“Now,” Kit said. “You have all drawn your plans and listed the materials you need. Go to Olis in engineering, I told him you’ll be presenting a signed materials request—and all material requests need to be signed by the captain or the quartermaster—and then you’ll be using his equipment to carry out construction. You can help each other.”
“Should we make Nick his tea?” Mini asked. “I heard his breathing change.”
The kids helped brew the tea, and then they filed out with chattering excitement, each calling out a little, “Morning, Nick.” Nick mumbled back a croaky, “Morning,” that elicited snickers.
He rolled over to blink bleary-eyed at Kit, who was hovering a few feet away with two cups of steaming bitter tea.
“You do not sleep well. Is it the headaches? Seasickness? Are you too cold or too hot?” Kit had a determined look to him, like he was about to fix the problem whether Nick wanted to participate in its solving or not.
“I always sleep badly.” Nick held out his hand for the tea and enjoyed the sharp bite as it covered his tongue.
Kit’s head cocked to the side, focusing very hard on what was being said. “It is a childhood difficulty?”
“No, it’s…” Nick snorted, darkly amused. “Last year, men came into my house and took my little brother. Spirited him away onto a ship.”
Kit’s worried look shut down. He turned sharply from Nick, something stung in his expression.
“I’m not lying,” Nick said without rancour, “though it might sound like it to you. They took him and sailed out into the worst storm in years.”
Kit’s tail lashed through the air, agitated. The lean black limb was twitching when he tilted his head back towards Nick, studying his face. He didn’t say whether he believed Nick was lying or telling the truth, but he waited, so Nick continued.