Chapter 10
I push hard on the golden handles of the doors to make sure they stay closed. My sweaty palms slip, and I back away, straining to hear noises from the hallway outside.
Ivander chuckles. “It’s okay. Doors are barriers. Just like you’re safe in your bunk room, you’re safe here.”
After nothing tries to break through, and no sounds come from the other side, I decide he’s right.
Whatever was trying to kill me can’t reach me if I’m not in a hallway.
A bubble of hysterical laughter sneaks past my lips.
Something about thinking I’m safe anywhere on this ship after being chased by tentacles and bat-birds seems ridiculous.
The memory of the girl, desperate to finish cleaning before heading for donation, haunts me. I couldn’t save her. I didn’t try. The guilt weighs heavy, and I can’t keep it inside. When I describe what happened to Ivander, his eyes darken.
“You couldn’t have helped her. Count yourself lucky you didn’t fall too.”
Lucky? Maybe he’s forgotten he’s the one who invited me here. I wouldn’t have been in that hallway if I’d gone straight to my room. “Why did you ask me to meet you here?” My voice shakes. “You almost got me killed.”
“But you came,” he says with a sly smile.
My cheeks heat, and I hope he can’t see my face in the dark. He focuses on the strip of silk hanging from the ceiling. He’s ignoring me now—actually ignoring me. I want to tell him off, but the fear coiled in my gut freezes my tongue. A shudder racks my shoulders. It could have been me.
With blood staining my shirt, I march down the aisle of the theater. If he’s not going to explain himself, I may as well figure out where the best seats are for when I come back with the Stallards. If he’s determined to ignore me, I’ll ignore him too.
I stride across blue carpeting with silver swirl designs and pass row upon row of royal-blue seats.
The stage itself is immense, framed with dark gold architectural filigree and long white candles held by marble statues of witches.
Sculpted women with shaggy hair, dark eyes, and creased robes stand in twisted positions at either side of the stage.
They each hold a set of candles over their heads.
My lip curls, and I’m reminded why “witch” is a disparaging term for Morphics.
This is how they imagine our ancestors. It’s not lost on me that all the creepy statues are of women.
In the center of an otherwise dark stage, Ivander hangs from bright blue silks. With his long-sleeved midnight-blue shirt glowing, too, he might be floating in the depths of the sea beneath us. I try not to look, but he’s harder to ignore than I thought.
Even as he moves, lacing his legs through the silks and bending his back into a deep arch, his eyes stay on me.
It’s like he’s taunting me. After coming close to death tonight, the last thing I want to do is sit still for a performance, but I won’t get answers unless I wait.
And I can’t help my curiosity. I’ve never seen someone suspended from silks before.
I sink into one of the theater seats to test them out. The seat comes to life beneath me, floating into the air. The whole row of seats floats in the darkened theater, and I swing my legs. I’d forgotten the seats could rise and give audiences a better view of the performers’ tricks in the air.
Without warning, his body drops, and I scream.
When he catches himself on the silks before hitting the floor, I clap a hand to my mouth.
I let my hand fall before he sees and purse my lips into cool disinterest. He pulls himself vertical again and plants his feet on the stage.
He grabs hold of the silks, giving them a good tug to test their strength.
Then he runs, holding on to the thick strips of fabric and soaring through the air like a bird.
He may only be practicing, but the movement takes my breath away like fleeing from home did, Hawks in pursuit.
Although I’d never admit it to him. As he climbs up the silks and transfers into an upside-down arabesque, the roaring of blood in my ears and the urgency I ran into the room with disappear.
It’s the first truly beautiful thing I’ve seen on this ship.
Something real. No raw Morphia creating animal illusions or chocolate fondues that spout fire.
The muscles of Ivander’s body ripple with effort, visible even in the feeble spotlight.
Despite how much I know I should look away from his powerful form, I can’t.
He is free in the air, free and beautiful even without magic.
He is everything I wouldn’t be if I lost my gift.
When Eliza gave up her Morphia, she gave up a bit of herself too. I won’t let myself become like her.
I force myself to arrange my expression of awe into a grimace as he swings toward me. Ivander clicks his tongue as he registers my annoyance. Finally. “Figured you wouldn’t really listen until your heart rate calmed down,” he says.
I will my seat to float back down to the floor, and it obeys my command.
He doesn’t need to know that watching his silks performance didn’t exactly slow my heart rate.
Once I’m back on solid ground, reality creeps back in.
I was one step ahead of the chasm in the floor.
Something was chasing me, and I might have been caught if I hadn’t run inside the theater. “What was out there?” I finally ask.
“If I knew, I’d tell you. But it changes every night.
” Ivander lowers himself down the silks, brown eyes locked on me as he descends.
“Keeping extracted Morphia aboard comes with a price. The ship isn’t as impenetrable as the bosses think.
Morphia can create beautiful things, but it can also be very dangerous. ”
He says it like he thinks I’m responsible for the latest danger. If the extracted Morphia is so dangerous, the bosses should know. I consider not asking at all, but the question comes out before I can stop it. “Why is it only dangerous at night?”
Ivander fixes me with a harsh look that says I should have figured this out on my own.
“It’s more dangerous at night because that’s when every staff member aboard this ship is required to donate their Morphia.
As jars of our power are added to the ship, the magic aboard becomes more volatile.
We seem to think raw Morphia can be controlled as long as we keep it in jars out at sea, but I’m not so sure. ”
I don’t mention that Ivander said more dangerous at night. “The floor swallowed that girl,” I whisper.
He studies me as if he expects me to argue.
But I don’t. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
The bosses don’t care what happens to us.
I was going to have to learn that one way or another, and I don’t think I truly believed it until now.
I guess I thought since Father receives regular letters from the bosses and helps oversee the boss selection, things would be different.
But I know those letters must leave out the worst of the punishments.
I climb the steps up to the stage, holding my head as high as I can. “Today was horrible. I was horrible.” When his feet touch the floor, I speak louder. “You could have prepared me better, as my assigned staff member. Yesterday, you told me nothing. Alana did all the work.”
Ivander crosses his bare brown arms over his chest. Silver-blue shimmer dust glistens on his lips and cheeks. My stomach tightens when his lips part. “You were convinced you didn’t belong here. I couldn’t have done much. Even now, you believe you’re different from us.”
My breath catches. A throbbing in my ear grows until it threatens to bring me to my knees. It’s like he can read my mind. The nasty whispers that remind me I’m here by mistake. I’m not as guilty. I shouldn’t have failed.
He arches a brow. “Ah, touched a nerve there, didn’t I?
” When I don’t answer, he drops his arms to his sides and closes the distance between us.
I force myself to hold my ground, although I want to shrink away.
“You want to know why I brought you here? You need a wake-up call. This place is dangerous. For you. For me. For all of us.” He pauses, leveling me with an accusatory glare.
“I heard Alana and Isla helped you today. You. A girl who doesn’t even think she belongs here. ”
“I didn’t ask them to—”
“I’m not finished.” He points to the blood still trickling down my neck.
“You’re pissing off the bosses, and if you’re not careful, you’ll drag my friends down with you.
And I won’t let that happen. I told you the boss votes hold more weight.
Their ten extra votes could make the difference for one of my friends.
They’ll be comparing notes on each of us, trying to catch us doing anything wrong.
Anything could knock one of us out of the running, and I won’t let it be you. ”
“I don’t want them to get hurt either,” I say quietly. He’s so close I can practically feel the pulsing of his temple and the strain in his shoulders.
“We all think like you at first. I did,” he mutters.
“I’ll get my retrial quick because everyone will see it was just a fluke.
The judges made a mistake.” Now that he’s down from the silks, he looks smaller but not less sure of himself.
“The truth is, we’re all a little dangerous here.
Just like non-Morphics are. But it’s easier to throw us in a prison and take our magic than admit the complexity. ”
I turn to face downstage, away from him. “My ancestors built this place to keep Morphia contained. It is dangerous if we don’t keep it in check.”
“I can guarantee you that most of the Morphics on this ship don’t deserve to have their magic stripped away. And most of them will.” His clipped tone bites. “You’ll see once you’ve been here awhile. It took me a month to see it.”