32. Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Two
“ R ow, you landlubbers!” Sable shouts from the helm, watching the crew row two longboats towards the current. Two heavy tow lines run from the boat to the bow of the Noctis, connecting them.
I stand beside him, completely useless. He denied that I may help the men to row the boat, and explained that it would only rip my fragile, soft skin open.
We went in circles, arguing back and forth, until I decided that the energy the debate costs me is not worth it.
In the end, the captain gets what he wants, and it’s not like I don’t appreciate him caring for me.
I am still a bit wet from my swim as Lark brings me my gown of dusty rose. I thank him with a smile and pull it over my head, before leaning against the railing of the forecastle again, trying to see what’s going on in the water ahead of us.
“Will they be able to move the Noctis with just those little boats?” I ask.
“Aye,” Sable takes a spyglass out of the loop of his belt and presses it against his kohl-rimmed eye. “They can, and they will.”
The moment the ropes strain, an abrupt, jolting movement runs beneath my feet. The Noctis refuses to move, heavy and as stubborn as its captain.
“Row!” Sable shouts and puts his spyglass away. “Row like your life depends on it, because it bloody does!”
The men in the longboats groan as they row and fight to pull the Noctis. The tow-lines draw tight again, vibrating with strain until, very reluctantly, the ship moves forward. The water changes. A pull beneath the hull, sliding past the keel.
“The current,” I whisper.
Sable curses, but when I look over my shoulder, there’s an unmistakable smile on his face, that stupid dimple of his showing on his cheek.
He puts both hands firmly on the wheel, then turns it a few inches to follow the pull beneath us, as if he could feel it too.
He most likely does, for the shifting of the water as it tugs us onwards is unmistakable.
When Sable is at the helm, it’s like he becomes one with the sea.
In moments like these, it feels like we’re not too different after all.
The ropes slacken as the current takes over fully, the longboats drifting back once the Noctis begins to move on its own. Just as fast as they were descended, the boats are hauled back abroad, the crew moving with practiced ease.
As if commanded, the crew gathers on the deck with shuffling feet. There’s anticipation in the air, mingling with excitement as we further embark on our adventure to our fates once again. Despite this, the danger of the Sea of Dreams still hangs heavy around us.
“No one goes to sleep until we’re shot of this cursed sea,” Sable announces, and the crew accepts his order with a couple of nods.
“Now get to your stations. Make her fly.” He hands over the wheel to Grim, who takes it with an “Aye, captain.”
“Nightglass?” The captain calls towards the Crow’s Nest.
“Glim is moving, Cap. Northward.” He shouts back, not turning to take his eyes from the thread of silver.
I slowly exhale, the tension of the last few hours easing just a little. For the first time since what feels like forever, we are following the Glim again, into an unknown fate. We just have to make sure we don’t fall into a cursed sleep again.
As the sun begins to set in shades of teal and purple, there is still no end of the sleep-cursed sea in sight.
The plan sounded simple when Sable announced it earlier: We all gather on deck, eat dinner under the steady light of the lanterns and celebrate the fact we’re still alive, until the sun starts to rise again.
I have used the time well to prepare the lanterns for the night, and help cook dinner together with Lark.
The bleeding wound at the back of my head I had checked by Harrow, just a surface wound apparently, but it still throbs every time I move.
Sighing, I put down the last filled plate on the long makeshift table, just in time for the green flash.
The sun disappears behind the horizon and sends out a wave of green light, blink at the wrong moment, and you might miss it.
My throat tightens as the crew gathers at the table underneath the golden light that the lanterns cast down on us.
I try not to glance at their feet, but fail.
Their shadows flicker; some detach partly while others stay with their owner.
As I sit down next to Grim, the simple chair at the head of the table remains empty.
My stomach tightens with worry. Nightfall means something entirely different now than it did one day ago. Where is Sable?
“Lass,” Match, the wiry, tall pirate who put me in my cell on the first day, snaps me out of my thoughts. “He’s not coming until he’s gathered his shadow.”
I furrow my brows. “Gather?”
“Aye.” He laughs as he reaches out for a bottle of rum. “You know that man is stubborn. He’s determined to hunt his shadow down. It slipped away this afternoon.”
I suddenly itch with the need to rise and look for him. I stare at my plate instead, swallowing. It didn’t end well last time, and if I am really honest with myself, I am not ready to face that side of him again. Not now. Even if I know that the man I encountered on the balcony was not really him.
I bite down on my lip. There are too many questions unanswered. What his shadow really is, why they detach and not come back, when this started to happen. Sable might never answer these questions, because he is not aware when his shadow slips away. But maybe his shadow can.
Against protests from Grim, I take one lantern and stride off towards the hatch that leads to the orlop.
I have become used to the steep steps, descending with the lantern in one hand, stretched out in front of me to light the way.
Below, darkness swallows the ship whole.
There’s no silvery outline of a shadow in sight.
Sighing, I carefully walk between stacked barrels and chests until I reach the end of the room, the creaking wood beneath my feet the only sound I can hear.
“Sable?” I ask into the darkness, knowing that he‘s not here. If he was, I would feel him.
Nothing. I leave the orlop through the forward ladder instead of heading back toward the main deck through the hatch, feeling slightly defeated. I climb until I emerge near the bow, just beneath the forecastle, and take the steps up, pulled forward by the force of an invisible string.
As I step onto the small deck right in front of the bowsprit, the familiar tingling feeling against my skin greets me, like I’ve walked through hidden spider webs without realizing it until it’s too late. In front of me lies a dark figure, not moving or turning as I approach it.
Carefully, I put down the lantern, and where the light meets his dark frame, it flickers faintly. But it doesn’t make him bolt as I expected it to.
“Can I sit with you?” I ask, my voice steady but low.
“You may,” he replies quietly. I let the sound of his voice wrap around me as I gather the long fabric of my gown and carefully sit down on the cool boards next to him.
Sable, or at least the shadow version of himself, stares at the night sky, his gaze flickering back and forth, as though he was seeing something in them that I couldn’t.
Now that I really look at him, I should’ve realized his true identity sooner.
The dark eyebrows, the slightly crooked nose, and the way he carries himself with confidence.
The evidence was there, I was just too blind to see it.
Sighing, I lay down next to him, close enough that I can feel his presence but far enough so that our shoulders do not brush.
“Go ahead,” he says. “You‘re here for a reason, aren’t you?”
For a brief moment, I do not reply. I play with my fingers instead, looking at the constellations above.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I need to know the truth. About you. About Sable.”
“I am Sable.”
“I know,” I shake my head and sigh, cursing myself for my stupidity. “I know you’re a part of Sable. But why are you here and not with him? Wherever he is.”
From the corner of my eye, I can see his chest slowly rising and falling, as if the question doesn't bother him at all. As if he is truly breathing instead of just imitating breaths.
“I like to look at the night sky.”
All the questions I have start spiraling in my head, twisting into a knot of words that I fear won’t be able to untie if he keeps on being so vague.
“You know that’s not what I mean. Why are you here, while the other part of you is actively trying to hunt you down? Why not just… be where you belong?”
His head turns towards me now, and I mirror the movement. Black eyes that reflect the moon light like marbles stare into mine.
“Where I am right now feels like where I belong,” he whispers. “And the man you are referring to is not me. Not really.”
I frown at him. “What do you mean ?”
Sable’s shadow sighs and goes back to staring at the night sky, while I continue staring at him.
“This will only make things worse,” he says under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am his shadow, but at the same time, I am his soul. I am him. The man searching the ship right now is just my physical form, the shell that contains me.”
I let his words sink into me, into my heart, and suddenly, it weighs there in my chest as solid as a stone. A stone so heavy that if you were to drop it onto the ocean, it would sink and sink, never to be seen again.
He pulls his hand back down from his face, his arm now almost touching mine.
“I have been cursed for a long, long time. I was the first one. You see, while the others are mostly whole,” his voice cracks. His pinky softly brushes mine. “I am not.”
I bit down on my lip, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. This is what he didn’t want to tell me about his shadow. I never would’ve thought that the curse affects him more than others, or that he feels this broken.