20. Chapter 20
Chapter 20
Viola
B anging on the door is the only warning I get before a keen eye peers through the circle on the door of my room. "Get up, freeloaders!"
Mace groans, "Jaz…" as he pulls the threadbare blanket over his head.
"Don't 'Jaz' me. Get up. It's time for chores."
"We paid for passage, Jaz," I say as I throw my legs over the bed. Mace snakes his arms around my naked waist, dragging me back into the sheets with him and peppering kisses down the back of my neck.
"Stay in bed," he grumbles against my heated flesh. "I'll make it worth your while."
"I don't care if you don't cause storms anymore, no one wants to hear how much you two fuck," Jaz says, jolting me out of the privacy bubble I thought we had fallen back into. "Chores first, dick later, Vi."
"They're never going to let up," I tell Mace, reluctantly climbing out of the bed and getting dressed. Feria had beautiful clothing, but most of the appeal of it was lost on me. However I did pick up a decorative chest wrap and a pair of flowy black pants that sit low on my hips. The wrap is black with purple flowers embroidered in it and more feminine than anything I've ever worn, but I couldn't pass it up when I saw it.
My father believed in the beauty of flowers. I feel like I've lost sight of a lot of things my father taught me lately.
I don't want to explore the fact that it coincided with Himureal returning.
As I'm lacing up my boots, I notice Mace getting dressed in a pair of pants that stop at the knee and sandals.
"Sandals?" I say, gawking at his feet. "Sandals?"
"What's wrong with sandals?"
"You…" I stutter, unable to express just how strange it is to see Mace dressed in short pants and sandals. "I never thought I'd see the day. Or your toes."
"Stop it!" he chuckles, tossing a dirty shirt at me. "My toes are just fine."
"Your feet are massive," I remark, bending at the hips to peer at them.
"I'm not sure why you're surprised you've seen my -"
"Shut up fuckers!" Jaz shouts from outside the door. Mace and I exchange a tight glance before laughing hard.
"I'm sorry, forgot you were still out there," Mace says sheepishly. He swings the door open to an angry Jaz, and the tips of his ears and the back of his neck pinks up in embarrassment. Jaz stands with their feet spread and arms crossed, looking frustrated and fed up already. Their red hair is wet and slicked back and they are wearing a linen shirt the color of an old book with billowy olive green trousers tucked into their slouchy brown boots.
"Let's just get a move on you two. Everyone pitches in."
We follow Jaz up the stairs and onto the deck of the ship, and my eyes widen at the skyline. The sun has barely risen, the sky still streaked with pinks and oranges. The sea breeze cools the already warm day, and the air is filled with the sounds of Jaz's crew as they go about their morning activities.
"The sun is barely up, Jaz," a gruff voice says behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I see ragged Morrow and Zeph climbing up the stairs and into the fresh air.
"Well, shit gets started early on a ship, I don't know what to tell you."
"Tell me we don't have to do this because we paid for passage," Tulip whines from a bench that I didn't see when I first came up. "Shouldn't I get a 'you almost died last time so you don't have to do chores' pass?"
"When did you get up here?" I ask her, peering around Jaz to get a better look at my friend. Her wild hair is wrapped up tightly and perched on top of her head and she wears the yellow jumpsuit I was in when I escaped Ytopie. "And who got the bloodstains out of that jumpsuit?"
Plume peeks around Tulip and smiles. "I did! There's a plant that does wonders with stains!"
"They both got up on the first knock, so they've been waiting on the lot of you," Jaz says as they knock the heel of their boot on the deck. "We've got a lot of shit to take care of day to day on a ship, and you lot are going to help." I start to speak and they shoot me a look. "And I don't want to hear fuck all about you paying for passage, Viola Mistflow, because I can and will remind everyone that you're only a God because you stole from me."
I scrub my hand down my face, knowing I've lost this battle, and gesture silently for Jaz to continue. "Right then, Tulip and Plume you're on food prep. Go help the cook."
"Yes!" Tulip exclaims, jumping up. "I can handle some chopping. And I got Plume with me to heal my cuts if the waves get too rough."
"No blood in the stew!" Jaz shouts after them as they turn and head below deck to the galley. They turn on Morrow and Zeph and peer at both of the Summer fae, eyes narrowed. Eventually, they nod to themself as if they had made up their mind. "Zeph, you're gonna help the bosun. We've got some sails and rigging that could use some attention, and your fingers look nimble."
Zeph shrugs and trudges off in the direction Jaz pointed him, his eyes still glazed from sleep. Mace leans over to me and whispers, "Zeph's all thumbs, Jaz made the wrong choice there."
Jaz pretends not to hear him. "Morrow, go below deck and find Kira. She's brewing ale and could use some help." Morrow's face lights up as he darts off as if afraid to stick around and risk getting a worse job assignment. Jaz plants their hands on their hips, and the look they give me is all I need to know about what's coming up for Mace and me.
"What are we scrubbing, Jaz?"
"Everything," they say with a laugh. "You two are the cleaning crew. Have fun!"
We watch them disappear below deck and listen to the crew's snickers as they man the masts and sails as we look around, dumbfounded.
Mace breaks the silence first. "So we're just cleaning? That's not too bad."
"It can't be that simple," I mutter, poking around until I find a couple of mops. I toss one to Mace and stare at the one in my hands, sucking on my teeth. "I wish I could make this thing mop on its own."
"Magic doesn't work like that," he says, rolling his eyes and leaning his elbow on the mop handle.
"Okay, Sandals, I know that."
"That better not become a thing."
The wind carries my laugh, and I feel lighter than I have in ages. Being here, on the open sea, with all of the people I care about, has lifted a weight from my shoulders. Shadow wraps around my ankle, having crawled out of a shadow nearby the moment my thoughts went to the ones I care about.
I guess my magic includes the snake in that group.
"But why can't we use magic?" I say, propping my broom up. With little thought I bring water to the deck, a layer of it covering the deck. Before I have the chance to do anything, a crew member with hair so long he can nearly tuck it into his pants splashes down, nearly falling on his ass. He glowers at me as he gestures at his wet clothes.
"What in the world? Why is there so much water on the deck?"
"We're cleaning it," I tell him, crossing my arms and squaring up in front of him.
"How do you plan to get all this water off, Shadowweaver?"
My thoughts didn't get that far, and it's clear Mace knew this was coming, his face tight with restrained laughter. The crew mate, whose name I suddenly remember is Boris, sighs and shakes his head. "Let me put you out of your misery. You're going to have to dry it the best you can and push the rest overboard. Quickly, because this is a slip hazard." He stomps off, grumbling to himself under his breath, and I am sure it's something derogatory, but who can blame him at this point?
Mace and I stand shoulder to shoulder, looking at the mess I made. "Numen, your use of non-offensive magic is nearly nonexistent. What is your plan here?"
"Now would be a great time to have Spring magic."
"And yet you don't. So consider this a chance to flex your magical muscles." He points at the water on the desk that moves with every slight motion of the ship. "We need to get rid of this quickly. What can we do to do that?"
"Fire can make it evaporate," I tell him.
"And it can light the fucking ship on fire, Viola."
"Minor detail."
"Try again." His voice has a soft laugh under the surface and I wrack my brain for other ways I can use my magic to achieve our goals.
"What about Light? If I combine Fire with Light, could that keep the Fire from lighting the ship on fire?" I try to picture the magic in my mind, what a fireball would look like encased in Light. "That will work," I say, without giving Mace a chance to answer. I feel his hand press on my lower back as I feel the two Summer magics twist together inside me, manifesting in a flaming ball of light that floats over the deck.
"You made a fucking sun," Mace says breathlessly. "A miniature sun."
"Huh, I did, didn't I?" I know I'm cocky, it's apparent in my voice, but I have every right to be. This was a great idea, and now I can say I've all but held the sun in my hands.
Moving the small sun over the deck, I watch as the heat from it dries the water up, being careful to mentally guide it away from anything flammable. "I've never seen someone able to control magic like you do," Mace says while he watches. "Normally, we just let it loose."
"I can't imagine that. It feels like the magic is an extension of my body. It's so natural just to move it." The deck is dry quickly, and I throw the small sun over the side of the deck, plunging it into the water. The deck actually does look clean, and I turn to Mace, propping myself up with the unused mop. "That was fun. What else can I try to use my magic for?"
"Shit, Viola, I don't know." He looks around the ship, looking for some problem I can try to create a magical solution for. "There," he says, pointing at a wooden bench that lays on its side, leg broken off. "Fix that."
I walk over to it and squat down to get a better look at the break. It's splintered like it got thrown around in a storm. "How? I don't have Spring magic."
"Figure it out," he says with a shrug.
Never one to back down from a challenge, I run my hand over the wood, trying to see if the leg will fit back with the pieces it broke off of. "What if I seal it off with some metal?" I muse out loud.
"And what are you going to get that's metal out here that you would be find with not getting back?" He brings up a good point. We didn't pack anything superfluous, and I certainly wasn't going to take apart Jaz's ship to find something metal I could morph for this purpose.
"Prosperity," I say, the idea hitting me like lightning. "What if I combine Geomancy and Prosperity to get extra metal out of something? I could leave the item intact and have some metal to use as a way of reinforcing a leg."
Mace smiles broadly, nodding. "That could actually work." He looks around, searching for something I can use for my experiment. Eventually he finds a bucket and tosses it to me. I focus my magic on the bucket, imagining the two branches of Autumn magic blending together and helping me out. Slowly, I pull raw ore from the bucket, and it multiplies in my hands, growing in size and leaving the bucket whole. I turn back to the bench and call forth Fire magic again, melting the ore in my hands. It doesn't burn, but the texture of it is odd, like honey dripping between my fingers. I drizzle it gently on the wood, careful not to overheat it, and watch as the liquid metal travels through the cracks, sealing the two pieces together.
I blast the metal with a hint of Frost, watching as it solidifies before my eyes. I stand the bench up and flop down on it heavily, crossing my arms in triumph. Mace swiftly crosses the deck and bends at the waist to place a bruising kiss on my lips. "Brilliant," he mutters against my mouth.
"That was fun," I say honestly. "It's nice to think about magic in a way that isn't fighting for my life."
"Want to try one more?" he asks, moving to sit beside me. His hand rests beside me, our pinkies overlapping. "I was thinking we could try to take care of some of the barnacles on the outside of the ship."
Excitement zings through me, and I'm on my feet, leaning over the banister to catch a glimpse of the barnacles that grow below the water line. "Any ideas?" He brackets me in his arms, pressing his front against my back. I feel him everywhere now, his sandalwood and sea salt scent fitting in perfectly with the open ocean.
"None," he says, trailing his lips down the curve of my neck and quieting all of the noise in my brain, leaving only him.
"What if," I say breathlessly, fighting past the fog of lust the trailing of his hands on my sides has induced, "I Decay them?"
"Mmm, that's a good starting idea. They're alive, though, numen, so that may not be enough to remove them entirely."
"I could toss them all in a shadow vision and hope Himureal finds them." I push myself back against him, feeling every hard inch of his body against my own.
Mace's body shakes with a laugh, and he nips at my earlobe. "I don't hate the idea."
"Decay and Water?" I say, closing my eyes as I surrender to the sensation of him. "Decay to kill and loosen them, Water to wash them off the side of the boat?"
"The boat is in water, Shadowweaver. Try something else." I'm starting to get frustrated, especially because his hands are tracing the top of my pants, tickling the bare skin there, and the sensation is making my brain stutter. "Come now, numen. I know you're clever enough. Do this, and I'll reward you."
Groaning, I throw my head back against his shoulder, willing the magic inside me to give me an answer.
And then it does.
"Frost. Ice. Whatever we want to call it today. I Decay them, then use Ice to freeze them and Shadow to smash them and sweep them off and out to sea."
I don't give him a chance to question or shoot my idea down. Instead, I immediately braid the three different magics together inside me before pushing my intention out and driving the magic down the side of the boat. I watch as the magic does exactly what I hoped it would, the barnacles rotting, freezing, and then getting pushed off by the snake-like tendrils of shadows I brought forth. It's intoxicating to watch my magic do something so intricate, so complex, with just a thought.
"Wow," I say softly, barely noticing that Mace is still kissing and licking across my neck and shoulder. "I've always known magic was useful, but I haven't really taken the chance to look at it like this before." I spin around, ideas overflowing from my mind and out of my mouth. "Would we be able to -"
"Shit!" Mace shouts, jumping back from me. "You stepped on my toes!"
He shakes one foot as if he could banish the pain, glowering at me and my boots. I feel awful that I hurt him, but I can't help the laugh that falls out of me as I watch him. "Sandals," I say through stuttering breaths.
"Yeah, fuck these sandals. I'm never wearing sandals again."