Chapter Quote by Neve Ellison
We are the silence after the storm
And the darkness after you close your eyes.
~Neve Ellison
Inside the tent with the candles burning, I did not feel the familiar dread I once felt among so many shadows.
I watched them dance along the fabric of the awning, my fingers drawing slow lines across Vidar’s naked chest. He said he was not tired, but it seemed his body had finally betrayed him.
He slept peacefully, breathing like he had no cares in the world, his dreams unburdened by mine.
I could have listened to that for hours, but as the breeze outside began to fade and was replaced by the faint sound of the ocean lapping at the beach, I felt a tug in my chest like an invisible string was pulling.
I lifted my head, looking at the lightly swaying tent flaps as if I would see a wraith traipse through them.
There was nothing, but the strange feeling did not subside.
Quietly, I rose from the bedding on the ground and reached for one of Vidar’s oversized shirts, sliding it over my head.
I stepped out into the night, eyeing the dim firelight a little further down the beach where the rest of the men had clustered into a couple small camps.
A few were awake, keeping watch as they would on any other night.
The dangers of the ocean were still ever present, after all.
Camped a bit closer was Mullins, Aeris, Meridan, and Nazario, all sitting around a small flame and engaged in quiet conversation. I started to approach them, my feet silent on the soft sand. As expected, Meridan was the first to notice me and stood with excitement.
“Dahlia,” she smiled.
I took her hand and sat down beside her on the ground.
Nazario passed a small bottle toward me that smelled of sweet rum. “It is good to see you walking around.”
I took the bottle, giving it a sniff. Realizing it was hemsbane free, I took a small swig, letting the burn chase away my fatigue.
“It is good to see all of you. It was rather convenient that you knew where to find us when we left the temple. The cannon fire is what turned the tides.”
“That was Lyla,” Mullins said as if it burned his tongue to admit. “She told us to circle the place like she knew you wouldn’t be leavin’ through the front door.”
I turned my attention to Aeris. She was staring into the flames like she wasn’t listening to the conversation.
“Vidar said it was you who freed her,” I said.
She turned her head at that, shyly pulling the blanket she had wrapped around herself over her shoulders.
“I trusted myself, that is all. I trusted that my theories about Lyla were correct.”
“What theories?”
“That she wanted freedom. Do not let my words fool you. She’s a violent creature, but I trusted that she would be of use without her binds. And she was,” she shrugged. “After she threatened to gut me, that is.”
“She was useful.” I took another sip of rum, clearing my throat. “I do wish I knew where she was. I have questions.”
Aeris turned her head toward the beach on the other side of Vidar’s tent as if she heard something.
“I imagine she has questions, too. Which is why she’s been hidden in the rocks there since this morning.”
All of us whipped our heads around to see a small outcropping of rocks down the beach.
“You’re shittin’ us,” Mullins said, rubbing his brow. “She can’t have been there the whole time. That would mean our lookouts are shit.”
“You were on lookout duty only moments ago,” Meridan reminded him.
“My point stands.”
“No, it means Lyla has no intention of attacking any of us,” I said. “Except Cathal, perhaps.”
Meridan chuckled, but the others remained unamused.
Handing the bottle back to Nazario, I took a deep breath, gathering the will to go to her. If she was there, she had a motive and it was no longer to slaughter us all and surrender me to the now absent father.
Meridan reached out, wrapping her hand around mine.
“You will let it hang over your head for the rest of your life if you do not speak with her,” she said. “I despise her for what she’s done, but… I am grateful to have you back and I understand she had a hand in that.”
I squeezed her hand, offering her a soft smile. “And I am thankful that I am able to be here with all of you again.” I grunted as I stood from the sand. “I suppose I should thank her at the very least. If she can tolerate my presence, I shall ask my questions.”
Turning, I stared at the textured cluster of rocks, narrowing my eyes.
I began to walk towards them, my heart pounding nervously in my chest. I wasn’t sure why.
It wasn’t as if we’d never met. Or maybe it was.
Without that heavy presence that had been taking up space in both our lives, perhaps we were completely different people.
The closer I got to the rocks, the clearer the slow and subtle rhythm of her heartbeat was.
Just as I focused my eyes in the dark, the faintest glint of light reflected off two eyes peering in my direction.
A body uncurled from the jagged stones, shedding the dark colors like a snake shedding its skin until a slender, pale form stood before me, washed in moonlight.
Her black hair hung over humble breasts, but without anything else covering her, I could see just how marred her body was.
Enough scars and blemishes littered her skin to rival mine.
Bite marks. Slashes. Punctures. Her body was riddled with them, illustrating hardships I couldn’t even fathom.
“What do you want?”
She continued to stare at me, her head slowly cocking to one side.
Then, as if her thoughts were distracting her away from me, her gaze lowered and she slowly turned toward the rocks, taking a seat on one of the sharpest ones as if seeking comfort was foreign to her.
I hesitated for a moment, but curiosity got the better of me.
“You must want something if you’re back here,” I said, lowering myself on the more comfortable rock beside her. “You were free to go wherever you wanted. Do whatever you wanted. So why return if—”
“I don’t know how to be free,” she mumbled.
Her words caught me off guard. I hesitated, staring at the side of her face. She was slouching over herself, her hair like black webs falling over her eyes.
“Nobody knows how to be free,” I said. “It is not something that can be taught or learned.”
“And what choices shall I make with this gift you’ve granted me?”
I could sense a bit of malice in her tone as if she was not saying it out of gratitude.
“I don’t know, but keep in mind that this ship and its crew was created for the purpose of hunting monsters like us.”
The corner of her lip rose so slightly, I would have missed it had she not turned her head to face the moonlight.
“You think I fear your captain or his crew?”
“No, but they might get in the way of the life you have ahead of you if you give them a reason.”
Finally, she turned to look at me again, the black of her eyes fading into small pupils surrounded by ghostly-gray irises.
She looked over me once as if to study every detail of my face and then, before my eyes, the pale, ashen-white hues of her siren complexion took on a shade of muted tan to emulate that of a human.
I wondered if I was so unnerving when I covered up my siren face with one that was more digestible.
Knowing that she truly could go anywhere and be anyone if she wanted was admittedly worrisome, but the alternative was killing her or putting her in a cage for the rest of her life and I couldn’t, for the life of me, bring myself to do either.
I owed her now… which was an obscure feeling.
“Do not stress over something you cannot control,” she mocked. “What I do when I leave is fully out of your hands.”
“Are you implying that when you go, I might feel guilty for letting you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t understand why you feel what you do or when those feelings suit a situation, but you do seem quite concerned with what I may or may not wreak on this world now that I’m not buried beneath it.”
I sucked in a breath, turning to peer out over the surf as the sky began to brighten with the dimmest hues of dawn light.
That great big ocean was a different place without the whispers of a self-proclaimed god prowling in its depths, but it was still an abyss full of horrors that needed no god to guide their hands.
“Why did you go into the temple when Aeris freed you?” I asked. “You could have left.”
“I wanted to see him again. To know.” She paused a moment, swallowing before she turned to study my face. “And I wanted to see you. I thought I could gain some clarity.”
“And did you?”
“Maybe. When I heard you use the voice on him, I suppose that was the moment I chose. I could never…” She paused again, clearing her throat and peering out at the sea once more. “It doesn’t matter.”
“And… how could you tell what was real and what wasn’t?”
She sighed like the question bored her. “Akareth didn’t understand light. He never did. His world is darkness. When he creates a vision, he makes his own light and it’s always flawed. I only realized it when I finally saw light myself.”
I thought back on the shadows always veiling Vidar’s face in every violent vision he’d force fed me. On the way the walls were dark in that temple when Vidar was skewered with spears as if under a spotlight.
I wish I’d realized it sooner.
But it did matter. He was gone and I found myself desperate to understand Lyla more and the world in which she was built, grim as it might be.
“You could stay with us,” I said, the words coming out before my thoughts could catch up.
Lyla let out a soft and almost inaudible chuckle. “You don’t want that. You fear me too much.”
“I think I’m far beyond fearing what you might do to me.”
“Not what I might do. You fear what I imply. That you could have become this. You were so very close, sister. Even now, you can hardly look at me because it’s like looking in a mirror only you don’t like what you see.”