Chapter 13 The Weight of a Promise
Riley
“I think… It was Sable. That’s who I heard when I jumped,” Riley said as she finished her recount of the events to Haddock.
Calla’s gaze snapped to hers, searching, while Haddock just frowned.
The three of them had gathered at Calla’s desk, though only the old man sat on a chair.
Riley was still propped up on the desk, while Calla was leaning against it, right next to her.
Her clothes and hair were still dripping with seawater, but she didn’t seem bothered, or like she was aware of it at all.
If Riley were to move just a little, she would be leaning against Calla’s side.
The skin of her left arm prickled at the proximity, but she stared down at the maps and sheets strewn about the floor instead.
The desk, this room, was Calla’s safe space.
She barely ever allowed anyone in here, and she certainly didn’t like any messes.
When Riley used to visit, she remembered Calla’s disapproving glances whenever she nudged anything even an inch out of place.
And now everything around was a mess, but all she sensed from Calla was worry.
“I’m fine now,” Riley said as the silence stretched, looking down at her hands.
Her marked skin was startling to look at, but her soaked gloves had joined the rest of her clothes on the floor, and she didn’t want to move from the desk.
As soon as she did, whatever warmth had settled between her and Calla would dissipate into larger issues, and Riley wanted it to last just a little bit longer.
The weight of Calla’s gaze as Riley had sat there, vulnerable and bare, still echoed throughout her body.
No one had ever taken care of her like that.
Calla hadn’t even touched her. She hadn’t tried to take anything for herself in return for… all of this.
“Maybe this is a good thing.”
The simply stated observation startled Riley out of her thoughts, and she met Haddock’s appraising gaze.
It made her shiver again. There was the slightest brush of Calla’s arm against hers then, subtle and grounding, but Calla’s focus was on the old man as she straightened to her full captain height.
“She just dived headfirst into the sea without even knowing how to swim,” Calla said, her words sharp and cutting. “I saw her swallow lungfuls of water, on purpose. How could that be a good thing?”
Haddock didn’t even flinch. He laced his fingers in his lap as he considered the both of them.
“She’s clearly connected to the Heart, and by extension, to Sable.
Her visions might be what we need to catch up to your first mate,” he said, and the tone of his voice…
It felt like a… challenge? Haddock raised his eyebrows at the captain.
“Isn’t that what you want?” he asked mildly.
Calla didn’t even hesitate. “No,” she said. “I already made that mistake once. We need to find a way to stop this.” She breathed in sharply. “Your potion. Can it still help? I’ll dive again. Whatever it takes.”
Riley didn’t want to cling to the heat those words sparked in her chest, because what if Haddock was right? Even though they had the compass, it hadn’t brought them very far, and she was still alive, wasn’t she? This was worth it if it could help them gain ground. For Sable, it was worth it.
But Haddock looked pleased with that reply, and that made her pause. Why did he look pleased?
“I’m afraid this is beyond my capabilities, captain,” Haddock said. “But I know someone else.”
“Who?” Calla asked.
“Do you have a map?” Haddock’s lips twitched in something like amusement as he glanced at the mess of maps strewn at their feet.
Suddenly too aware of where she was sitting, Riley hopped off the desk, and she was immediately caught off-guard by the weakness in her limbs.
She swayed on her feet. But Calla was there, just like she promised she would be, hands firmly placed on her arms as she steadied her. She was hovering. She was fussing.
If Riley had been more like herself, she would’ve found some way to fight the burst of emotion crawling up her throat, but she was deep-bone tired.
Her throat burned and scraped with every breath; her eyes were raw and stinging; her lungs never quite filled up with enough air no matter how deeply she breathed in.
And she just stared. She dreaded thinking about what her face was showing.
She’d sobbed earlier. It hadn’t been a trick, or a play at something else.
It had broken all of her lifelong rules at once, and embarrassment burned hot at her neck to remember it.
But she’d been overwhelmed and scared, and Calla had been there, so kind, and fuck, her eyes were stinging again because what had she done to deserve any of this?
A cool hand settled against her cheek, and Riley inhaled sharply as Calla’s deep blue eyes were on hers, searching. And damn the stupid rules, because she couldn’t tear her gaze away when Calla was looking at her like that–like she was the most precious thing on this entire ship.
“You need to sit,” was what Calla said in the end.
Her hand slipped from her cheek to Riley’s, which immediately startled her–Riley had been so careful not to touch Calla bare-handed.
But Calla gave no sign of pain or discomfort as she led her around the desk.
Riley shot Haddock a curious look as she sat on the only other unoccupied chair in the room, glancing at his gloved hands.
He’d never been around her without them ever since that first time when he’d flinched after touching the marks on her hands.
Maybe whatever that had been wasn’t an issue for Calla?
Tiny nails tapped against the wood of the desk as Patch leaned over the edge, whiskers twitching in consideration before he suddenly leaped into her lap and burrowed himself under her hands, nudging her fingers with insistent demand.
Clearly the marks weren’t an issue for Patch either.
Riley frowned down at her rat, watching as he settled under her caresses.
He was just a rat. And Calla wasn’t human, was she?
Then Riley realized where she was sitting.
The captain’s chair. Something about it felt forbidden, and a spark of satisfaction flared in her chest as she settled on it more comfortably. She was willing to bet Calla had never allowed anyone to sit on her chair.
Once Calla seemed satisfied Riley wouldn’t faint again, she stepped away to gather one of the bigger maps from the floor and spread it on the desk, gesturing for Haddock to approach.
It was a map of the seas, heavily annotated in Calla’s small, neat handwriting, but Riley couldn’t gather anything useful from it.
Her lessons with Sable hadn’t evolved to map reading yet.
Maybe she could bring that up once they were together again.
Haddock swiped an index finger across the map, pausing somewhere near its left edge. “We’re here?” he asked.
“Roughly, yes,” Calla said.
“And the compass is leading?”
Calla indicated another spot. “Here.”
The word Graveyard was inked across it. Riley didn’t much like the sound of that.
Haddock made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat, then his index finger swiped up. “If we make a turn here, you can avoid the Graveyard and make for the Cradle Isles, instead.”
The two looked pretty far from each other, and even though avoiding the Graveyard sounded like something they should want, Riley frowned. They would get even further behind Sable’s trail.
“What’s in the Cradle Isles?” Calla asked, tense. By the look on her face, she must’ve been thinking the same thing as Riley.
“A witch.”
“A witch?” Calla asked, drawing back.
Riley’s eyes widened. She’d never met a witch before.
Vareth didn’t hate them. They loved them.
They were treated like royalty, cooped up deep into the mainland, in Vareth’s capital.
As far away as one could get from Riley’s sorry excuse of a past life.
Witches were in high demand, attending to the most influential of Vareth’s aristocracy, and one of them denying the high calling to take refuge in the sea instead seemed… odd.
Haddock smiled at them, mild and guarded. “Mirellen, the witch of the Cradle Isles. If anyone can help temper the Heart’s influence, it’s her. But she does not work for free, and her prices are not in gold or silver.”
Calla stiffened. “What sort of payment?” she asked.
Haddock made an uncertain noise in the back of his throat. “Only she can tell you that.”
A stiff moment of silence, then Calla sighed. “Very well, old man. Thank you. You are dismissed.”
Haddock bowed low. “Captain.”
Once the door closed at his back, Calla bent down to collect the rest of her discarded maps, then moved on to Riley’s soaked clothes, hanging them up to dry.
Riley watched her in silence until she was done, and then, she asked, “You’re not really considering this, are you?”
Calla tilted her head at her, then she came around the desk, settling against it once more, in front of Riley this time. Riley had to spread her knees to make room for her, and suddenly the coldness of the freezing water leeched all out of her.
“No,” Calla said slowly, and Riley breathed out in relief. “I’ve already considered. We’re adjusting course.”
Riley froze in place. Warmth and panic tangled in her chest, fighting each other. “We can’t,” she said, voice faint. “It’s too far. Sable–”
“Can take care of herself,” Calla cut in, a muscle tensing in her jaw.
“And I can’t?” Riley asked, gripping the chair’s armrests.
Calla’s features softened. “You know that’s not what I meant.” She looked towards the porthole with a sigh. “Sable is not here, but you are, and I don’t make light of my promises.”
Calla’s gaze met hers then, cold and unyielding, and it made Riley shiver.
You’re safe. I’ll make sure of it.
The words thrummed in the air between them. Calla didn’t need to speak them again. Riley still heard them. The promise.