Chapter 16 Treading Water
Calla
Riley was off the days following the sighting of Neera’s ship, and Calla couldn’t help but notice it.
She was back to being twitchy and withdrawn, just as she’d been during her first days on the Moonshadow, and even her usual teasing felt like a sorry attempt at keeping up appearances.
It got worse while she was sleeping. Riley had slept through the night the first time she’d been in Calla’s quarters, but now she was plagued by nightmares.
Even noises as small as Calla turning the pages of her journal made her twitch into awareness, only for her to fall back into a fitful, restless sleep.
Calla watched it all, not knowing how to help.
She couldn’t bring it up with Riley herself.
She’d seen the spark of panic in her eyes when Riley had thought Calla would ask about Neera, how she’d drawn back as if she were ready to bolt to the darkest, deepest corridors of the Moonshadow if anyone did so much as prod. So she didn’t.
She’d called for Pip instead, and asked him to recount their encounter with Neera in detail, but according to him, the two had gotten along swimmingly.
All Calla had understood was that the encounter had happened sometime before she’d walked in on Riley curled up in Sable’s bed, shaking and inhaling Sable’s fading scent as if it was the only thing keeping her tethered.
Her worry increased tenfold after that.
The visions certainly didn’t help either.
They seemed to trigger on a daily basis now, and Calla saw how weak they made her, how they leeched the little energy she had, but Riley still insisted on keeping up with her deckhand shifts.
As if being forced to sit still for one moment would make everything crumble.
Calla had no choice but to allow it, even though it had been Gadrielle herself suggesting Riley needed the rest.
Riley needed a distraction more than she needed rest. She’d said it herself, though Calla wasn’t sure she’d meant to.
Tonight, Riley was at her desk, face planted in her palm as she half-heartedly played with a compass while Calla completed her captain’s log.
She wasn’t even trying to distract her from what she was doing.
Which was all wrong. Riley had taken pleasure in touching all the things around Calla’s quarters and nudging them out of place, flipping through her books, asking questions about the trinkets on her shelves.
But tonight she was too still. Too quiet.
Calla set her quill back into her inkpot, and closed her journal, setting it to the side neatly. Then she rose from her seat, drawing Riley’s gaze as she went to her closet, gathering towels. She tossed one to Riley, who caught it with a confused frown.
“Come with me,” Calla said. “I’m going to teach you how to swim.”
Riley blinked at her, not moving from her seat. “What?”
Calla raised an eyebrow. “You heard me.”
“I don’t want to,” Riley blurted, her eyes widening. “Aren’t we going to the witch so I can stay out of the water?”
Calla walked to the door and opened it wide for her, pausing at the threshold. “I didn’t ask what you wanted.”
Riley scowled at that, but she stood from her seat with a huff, just like Calla knew she would. “Fine,” she said, trying to sound unhappy, but Calla caught something else on her face. A flash of curiosity. “Captain.”
Calla’s lips twitched. This was already better.
It only occurred to her as she led Riley up on deck that this was the first time she was choosing to dive of her own accord.
After the dive for the coral, when she’d met that other selkie, Calla had come back so dejected she’d thought she’d never swim again.
But that night when jumping into the water to save Riley’s life had shifted something.
She’d been so scared, so focused on saving Riley’s life that she’d forgotten to fight her own link to the sea, and for a moment there the current had listened to her.
Which might mean she still belonged, just in a different way than before. And Calla was… warily curious now.
“Are we sure this is safe?” Riley asked as they emerged on deck.
Nivros had already set, and the moon hung high in the sky, painting the sails silver.
A mild breeze ruffled their clothes. They’d gotten out of the storm’s path yesterday, and the moodiness of the sea had tempered, the waves lapping at the Moonshadow’s hull rather than slapping at it.
“Shouldn’t we at least wait until we dock somewhere? ”
“And what happens if you fall overboard again before we dock next?” Calla asked mildly.
Surely Riley knew as well as she did this was long overdue. Calla should’ve thought of it earlier, but she hadn’t been herself, and then Sable had fled with the Heart, and then Calla’s thoughts had been too frayed, too distracted with everything else. And she’d been angry.
“I won’t fall–”
“You already did. Twice.”
A pause. “Technically, the second time I jumped.”
Calla stopped walking at that. She gave Riley a look.
Riley did not meet her gaze. She huffed, looking out at the water. “I’m here, aren’t I? Let’s just get on with it.”
Calla sighed and flagged the two deckhands on shift tonight, instructing them to get a dinghy ready and lower it into the water.
As she and Riley climbed inside the cramped dinghy, with barely the space to set a lantern between them, their knees brushed against each other, and suddenly Calla’s entire awareness narrowed to that small point of contact.
She’d done her best to keep some sort of physical distance between them these past few days, because whenever they were near, Calla seemed unable to keep her hands to herself.
It was alarming, to say the least, after a lifetime of doing nothing but keeping her hands to herself.
She couldn’t help but wonder. Was this her, because she wanted to be near Riley, or her nature, because she needed to?
This must’ve been what the selkie had meant when she’d mentioned mates.
Calla had searched her books for any mention of the word, had even asked Haddock about it, and all she’d gotten was a scant nothing.
All she knew was how Riley made her feel.
Her presence, her scent, her smile, her voice, they all did something to Calla, a pull that was proving harder to resist every day.
She didn’t know how far this would go once she stopped fighting it, and it scared her.
It was the reason she did not sleep at the same time as Riley.
Every night, she avoided Riley's prodding questions and only slipped into bed in the early morning, once Riley was away for her shift. Her scent tangled up in Calla’s sheets always made her pass right out.
It felt right, and maybe that meant it didn’t matter if she wanted Riley or needed her.
Maybe they were the same thing. Maybe Calla and her nature were one and the same.
“Are you just going to stare at me?”
Calla blinked, glancing at the smirk on Riley’s lips, and a flare of warmth lit up beneath her skin. The lantern flickered gently between them, its light brushing Riley’s cheeks, softening the curves of her mouth. Riley tilted her head in amusement as their dinghy hit water.
Calla quirked an eyebrow. “I’m not staring.”
Riley’s smirk widened into a teasing grin. “Sure. Just focusing very hard. On me. Do I have something on my face?”
Calla’s lips twitched. She let her hand reach past the dinghy’s edge until her fingers touched water. Without warning, she flicked a few drops at Riley’s cheeks, allowing a smirk to spread on her face as Riley startled. “Now you do.”
Riley huffed a laugh, wiping the water off with her forearm. “That was rude, captain.”
“Careful, pirate,” Calla said, smiling. “A less kind captain might find that kind of accusation disrespectful.”
“I’m lucky you’re my captain, then,” Riley said easily.
Calla made an acquiescing sound in the back of her throat and turned to the water, trying to ignore how those words made her stomach flip.
The moon was shining brightly tonight, casting a glimmering light on the gently lapping water.
The dinghy remained tied to the slowly advancing Moonshadow, following gently along.
As soon as they were far enough that Calla didn’t worry Riley might hit her head against her ship’s hull, she started shedding her coat.
“Take off your clothes,” she told Riley.
Riley’s breath hitched, and she shifted in her seat, her knee brushing against Calla’s. “What?”
Calla tamped down an amused smile. “You’ll want to slip back into dry clothes once we’re out of the water, won’t you?”
Riley shot her an embarrassed little smile, cheeks tinging pink as she rubbed the back of her neck. “Oh. Yeah. That. Right.”
A fond smile slipped onto Calla’s lips, because Riley was pretty cute when she wasn’t being a menace. Adorable, even. It made her want to keep teasing–ask Riley what she thought Calla had meant with her request.
“You’re staring again,” Riley mumbled as she slipped off her gloves. Then her boots.
Calla did not deign that with a reply. She took off her own boots, then she stood, and the dinghy wobbled with the movement.
Riley startled, gripping the sides of the boat for dear life, her eyes wide in panic. “Calla!” Then she caught herself. “Captain.”
Ignoring her, Calla gripped the hem of her shirt and pulled it off, then folded it neatly atop her coat. “Why are you scared?” she asked. “We’re going into the water anyway.”
When Riley did not reply, Calla glanced at her, her hands stilling as they were undoing her pants.
Riley was still gripping the sides of the dinghy, but her body was not tense anymore, and her eyes were wide in something different from panic.
She was staring. Calla’s bare skin prickled in the cool night air, and her gaze trailed the slope of Riley’s throat as she visibly swallowed.