26. Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Six
T he warmth of the sun floods my face with sleepiness, and for the first time in a long time, I dream of home.
It meant something entirely different to me than it did to them, the other sirens in our swarm.
While they lived under the water, in the dark caves of a sunken mountain, my life happened above the surface.
In my dream, I lay on the rocky little island that jutted out of the water and let the sun wrap me in its gentle, warm embrace, before my mother scolds me for spending so much time up here.
Her face appears so vividly to me that I wish I could go back just to see her again. Even just one more time.
Blinking, the world around me comes into focus in layers of golden, bright light. I push myself upward, both hands against the wood beneath me, startled by the warmth that seeps into my palms. The Noctis sways beneath in a slow, steady rhythm that threatens to lull me back to sleep.
I lean forward and look over the rail.
The sea stretches out below, smooth as glass.
There are no ripples trailing the stern, no white churn where the hull should be breaking the surface.
The water barely moves at all. It gleams instead, pale and glistening, laced with various colors when I tilt my head.
It appears shallow and endless, reflecting the sky in colors that remind me of those you’d find on an Abalone shell.
Blues and pinks and greens flowing into one another.
Glistening and shifting depending on how the light hits it.
Only after looking out do I realize, we are not moving.
With my brows knitted together in a frown, I find a sleeping pirate captain next to me.
We are still on the little balcony that sits above the sea, and it seems like somehow, we have fallen asleep.
I must’ve been so tired after using my song on Lark’s shadow, considering how drained I had felt afterwards.
I’m not used to employing so much power at once.
Sable leans with his back against the wall, his head fallen to his chest. Dark curls hang loose and cast a shadow on his sun-kissed skin, his closed eyes, and ridiculously beautiful lashes. Good to know he’s sleeping well after threatening to throw me overboard.
I haul myself up with a grunt and smooth the folds of my gown. He is the most stubborn, irrational pirate I have ever met. Locks himself out here, without so much as a candle, because he thinks he’s not worthy of saving, that no one would care if something were to happen to him.
Getting up this fast was not a good idea.
I am overcome with dizziness, and grab the railing in front of me to steady myself.
The soreness of my limbs makes me buckle, so I take a deep breath to ground myself against the dull pain.
Now that Sable is safe, at least for now, the feeling of betrayal overwhelms me.
I can’t believe he didn’t trust me enough to tell me about his shadow.
A hand finds the small of my back.
“Risa, are you—” he begins, but I cut him off.
“I’m fine. But are you?” I turn toward Sable, who now stands next to me, and sigh. “I have no interest in playing pretend anymore.”
His brow furrows slightly, then he slowly withdraws his hand from my back. “Pretend?”
“Yes,” I say. “Pretend that you’re not cursed, that you’re not going to die if you don’t break it.”
My breath stutters, and I hesitate before my next words. “Or that the ghost you warned me about is not your own shadow.”
The sleepiness that still clung to his features a moment ago washes away in an instant, as if I have just emptied a bucket of ice-cold water over his face.
He blinks at me, opens his mouth, and closes it again.
I cross my arms over my chest in anticipation of his defensive speech.
For him to deny what I have just revealed I know.
But he doesn’t. He barely even moves a muscle.
“That’s what I thought,” I whisper. “Did you even consider telling me?”
His jaw tightens. “I did.”
I lift my chin. “And?”
“And it would have complicated things.”
I would say that things are complicated now, too.
I really thought that he and I were starting to be more than just reluctant allies, more than friends.
I am sure he has his reasons for not telling me the truth, but I can’t help but feel a sting in my heart at his lack of trust in me.
And right now, that pain is feeding into an anger that I really don’t want to unleash upon him.
Taking a deep breath, I stare at him, incredulous. “Of course. How careless of me. My questions about your shadow would’ve been terribly inconvenient.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“No?” I step closer, my voice low now. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you decided it was simpler to let me stumble through the dark. More simple than telling me the man I was learning to trust becomes someone else when his shadow is gone. Why did you not trust me with this?”
“Because…” he sighs, then runs a hand through his hair, “I didn’t want to put you at risk.”
I laugh, a brittle sound that surprises us both. “You threatened to kill me.”
His eyes flash. “I would never—”
“You did,” I cut in. “You stood there and guessed how long it would take for my body to hit the surface.”
He freezes as something flickers across his face. Confusion. Uncertainty. A crack in the confidence he usually wears like armor.
“I don’t…” He exhales slowly. “I remember vaguely.”
The word lands heavily between us.
Vaguely.
It’s the same word the shadow used when I asked him if he knew the captain well. By the seas, I was so blind.
“You don’t remember,” I say quietly, tears blurring my vision. “None of it?”
His silence confirms it.
“So you don’t remember helping me,” I continue, my voice steadier than I feel. “You don’t remember gifting me that dress. Or when you pulled me from the depths when I was drowning. You don’t remember holding me that night, when I found out about the curse.”
His gaze drops to my throat, then to my mouth, as if searching for something he can’t quite grasp.
“I remember how it felt,” he says after a moment.
“Like a dream you cannot remember after you wake. I knew my shadow reached out to you, so I tried to keep my distance, tried to keep it from slipping away. But I failed. I know I failed because in the last few weeks, I only remember the moments I spent with you.”
My chest tightens. He doesn’t remember. If what he’s saying is true, and he can’t remember the moments I spent with his shadow, that changes…
everything. The sting in my heart eases a little, then becomes worse again.
Not because of anger, but because I am sorry for him.
I can’t imagine what it felt like to see the emerald dress on me and not remember giving it to me, only to realize it must have been his own shadow.
Or to watch me learn about the curse and only recall the feeling of holding me in his arms.
“On that beach,” he continues. “When you asked me about the curse, my shadow slipped away. I don't remember what I said or did to you, Eryse. That’s why I came to check on you, to make sure you were okay. Do you know what it’s like? To lose your memory, lose yourself?”
A knot tightens in my throat as I swallow against it. I don’t. But I know what it’s like to lose control over yourself. To become something you don’t recognize.
I step closer again, drawn in despite myself, close enough that I can feel the heat of him, the tension in the way he holds himself so carefully still.
“You could’ve told me,” I say, quieter now. “Could’ve trusted me. You truly think I can handle my own monster, and curses and hunters, but not you and yours? We could’ve carried that pain together, Sable.”
“I know,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry, Eryse. You were still my captive when you first met my shadow, and I couldn’t tell you then. But then…”
My breath falters. This is the first time either of us acknowledges that somehow, in between maelstroms, dances in taverns, and siren encounters on hidden little beaches, something between us has changed. That he’s maybe even more than a friend.
“Then?”
His hand lifts, then hesitates, hovering near my arm as if he doesn’t trust himself to touch me. The restraint in the gesture makes my breathing come in shallow waves.
“Then I started seeing you differently,” he says.
“I saw your pain, who you are behind those glistening scales. I saw how you started to care about me, about the crew. I knew that if you ever found out, you wouldn’t keep your distance.
You would try to save me, so I didn’t tell you.
I was trying to protect you,” he says in a low voice, and his finger presses briefly against his chest. “From me.”
Biting my lip, I turn his words over. Maybe he’s right. I would’ve gone after him, would’ve made sure he’s not alone whenever his shadow slipped away. But that choice should’ve been mine.
I shake my head. “It’s not up to you to decide what I need protecting from. That’s not your burden.”
Something in his expression breaks, just slightly. His breath stutters, and the atmosphere in the space between us feels charged and dangerous and fragile.
“You don’t understand what I become,” he says. “The fate I am facing.”
“I’ve seen it,” I reply. “Last night. And I’m still here.”
His eyes darken, something conflicted flashing through them. It must be hard for him, not remembering what he did and said to me.
“You sent me away, Sable. You didn’t just toss me overboard,” I continue, my breathing heavier now. “Even with your shadow gone, you recognized me. I don’t think you would’ve hurt me.”
He looks away, out toward the open, calm sea. He swallows, then knits his brows together, as if he has a hard time believing what I am saying. I hesitate, then reach for his hand. His fingers are rough against my skin, but I don’t mind. Not even the slightest.