Chapter 9
The first day passes in a blur of sweat and close calls. While I’m forgetting my family’s drink orders for the third time and carrying heavy trays of winder meat benedicts and omelets stuffed with micora tree root from the banks of Gryndar, I can’t help but think of my failed trial.
If only I’d kept calm. I would be training to join the Hawks and putting the finishing touches on my application to university.
I’d be sitting in Father’s study, breathing in the earthy scent of mushrooms and crushed spider legs while he brews potions and teaches me about his role on the council.
I’d be shadowing my father at meetings and helping him choose which Morphic causes to bring to his fellow councilors.
Instead, I help run food and drinks—for multiple courses—to the Stallards’ table.
Each time I bring the wrong drink or dribble a splash of sauce on the side of the plate, Asralyn’s nose wrinkles with disgust. She scribbles notes on my performance to remind me she’s keeping track for the end-of-charter voting ceremony.
Despite her distaste, even Asralyn couldn’t think of anything to say when we managed to get a coveted table by the window.
I’d been begging the hostess to let us into the restaurant, knowing full well we were late, when Chef Isla Langston came out from the kitchen herself to lead us to a window seat.
When I’d gone to the kitchen to ask her why, she’d shrugged with her firecracker smirk, continuing to roll dough for a smoky hearth fruit turnover. “You’re Alana’s bunk buddy, which makes you one of us now. And maybe I didn’t like the smug look on that lady’s face.”
Deck ten might be my favorite so far. One side of the deck hosts a variety of guest rooms with balconies and a vast ballroom that reminds me too much of home.
The green deck takes up the other half along with the restaurant.
The Harlequin restaurant sits in an outdoor forest scene with leafy green trees and stone fountains.
My family’s window seat rests beside a fountain of a woman with large feathered wings sprouting from the water.
Although she’s made of stone, she flaps her wings in the spray while the aquamarine gemstones of her eyes follow me.
Skilled crafters make wearable wings for guests aboard the ship, but no one’s successfully created working ones for use in Tamarynth.
I had marveled at her until I glimpsed the gold plaque on her base: OUR GRATITUDE TO THE DAMARCUS FAMILY FOR THEIR GENEROUS INVESTMENT.
After that, I tried to look away whenever I got close.
When Asralyn orders a Red Starfall, the cruise’s signature cocktail, I’m off to the connected Seeing Stars Bar.
The black marble bar is covered in glasses full of red, bloodlike liqueur from the island of Gryndar.
I wipe the sweat from my hands before snatching a starlit ice cube.
I drop it in tableside, transforming a rolling red sea of liqueur to a glowing white.
I have no idea if it’s actual starlight, but I’m surprised by how many guests order drinks first thing in the morning.
The best part about this deck, though, are the windows that stretch from floor to ceiling. It gives guests a view of the sparkling cerulean sea, and it makes me feel a little less trapped.
But the tranquility of staring out the windows is shattered by every problem during the day.
Even when I perform the tableside cocktail transformation, much to the children’s delight, all Asralyn can talk about is how I didn’t put a sparkler on the rim, even though she never mentioned wanting one.
Although breakfast takes forever, Vance still wants to see the opening ceremony in Dreamscape Theatre.
We’ve got no time to make it, so I dash us off to deck six only to realize the theater is on deck seven and six holds the gym and shops for souvenirs.
Seeing as we’re already here, I’d better use the gift shop to my advantage.
We pass by the see-through walls of Starfall Souvenirs, and I make sure to linger there as Vance expresses his disappointment about missing the show.
“We’d have made it if we walked there ourselves,” he lectures with a pointed look at me.
“You are supposed to know the ship better than we do. Didn’t your great-grandfather oversee the building of this vessel?
Not to mention, I know your father attends the yearly inspections. ”
I don’t flinch as Asralyn punctuates each of his statements with “She’s incompetent, dear.
It’s not worth it” or “They gave us the defective one.” As if I’m some sort of crafter-made object she bought only to realize it was broken.
I’m getting used to her dress flushing crimson, and I’m starting to think her wrinkled nose will get stuck that way.
“Auntie, look!” Ezra cries. “The souvenir shop!”
I breathe a silent sigh of relief as the kids, bored with our conversation, press their faces to the glass of the souvenir shop. “Can we go inside?” Sage asks.
Alana did tell me not to say no to the guests. I smile at the kids and gesture for them to lead the way, but Asralyn purses her lips. “I wanted to wait until the last week for them to pick out presents,” she snaps. “Now whatever they choose will clutter the room for a month.”
Before I forget the manners Mother taught me and spit that I’m sure her attitude is taking up more space than a few toys, Vance places a hand on his wife’s arm. “They can have a look around. We missed the show, anyway.”
I don’t wait for Asralyn’s response and follow the kids inside.
The souvenirs visible from the hallway glow even more vibrantly once we’re inside.
Merchandise hangs from the ceiling in spiraling suspended displays adorned with twinkle lights.
With souvenirs above, next to, and even below us in see-through compartments in the floor, we’re surrounded by merchandise.
Sage runs up to us, clutching a stuffed sea dragon.
Its plump body with a long whiplike tail, feathery, soft fins, and small finlike wings resembles a cuddlier version of those found in the lagoon on the top deck.
As Sage brushes a hand over the scales, they change from dark green to bright fuchsia and then into deep purple. “Can I get one?” she pleads.
“No,” Asralyn snaps. “The scales won’t change color once we get off the ship. Put it back.”
A staff member with curly red hair and bright green eyes greets Vance and Asralyn with a wide smile.
We’re some of the only people in the store at this hour—because, of course, there are better activities on day one than the gift shop.
The staff member appears thankful for customers.
“Is there anything I can help you find?” she asks.
“You’re smart to come in today. Prices go up later in the cruise. ”
“Lucky us,” Asralyn mutters.
“We’re just looking,” I hurry to tell her as Ezra almost runs into a hovering display of gemstone jewelry. I snag his arm as the hovering display speeds away from him.
“Actually,” Vance says, clearing his throat. “I’m looking for your bathing ointment line. We haven’t been able to find Moon Dust in Tamarynth, and I’ve never found anything that adapts to hair the way yours does.”
The staff member leads him to one of the wall displays. “They’re specially made aboard. They only last for about a month on land, I’m afraid, but you can purchase a few bottles.”
Vance runs a hand through his hair. “Only a month?”
Asralyn gestures to the various paintings on the far-left wall. They’re of the Celestial sailing against a starlit sky or the top-deck lagoon basking in the afternoon sun. Even in the painting, the lagoon changes colors. “Do you have one of Dreamscape Theatre?”
The staff member’s skin flushes red, and she wrings her hands. “That one sold last charter. We weren’t able to have a new one made yet.”
Asralyn scoffs. “You have crafters aboard, don’t you?”
“There was a shortage of paints in our last port stop. They’re saving them for the children’s paints activities—”
“Did I ask for your excuses?” Asralyn snaps. “I don’t see why it would be so hard to make one.”
Vance clears his throat. “I’m sure they’ll have one made by the end of the month.” His weighted tone suggests this is not a request and more of an order. I cringe internally and hope Alana is having a better day than I am.
And the wicked part of me is hoping Ivander’s day is going a bit worse.
As the staff member is trying to think of what to say, Ezra runs up to us with a replica of a pistol that shoots concentrated starlight in the game room. “Can I get this?” he yells.
The hem of Asralyn’s dress turns black as her patience runs out, and she rips the toy from his arms. Although I’m determined to stay as far out of the way as I can, Asralyn smells my fear and beckons me toward her.
“Since this was your brilliant idea, you can be the one to tell them they’re getting nothing until later in the trip.”
No way am I doing that. I borrow a trick Leith used to play on me.
Instead of telling the kids what they’re not getting, I distract them with something more fun.
“Who wants to go to the lagoon?” I ask. It takes a little more convincing, but I coax them into spending time on the top deck before lunchtime.
The rest of the day passes the same way.