33. Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Three
E ven if sleep didn’t mean certain death, I couldn’t have closed my eyes.
I lay awake in my hammock, staring at the dark beams above, going through his words over and over again.
I want to argue the truth, but I’d be fooling myself.
Singing back Lark’s shadow drained me, and the whole crew is twenty men strong.
If only he would let me try to sing his shadow back just once.
I know this is selfish, but I want to save him first, and only then his crew.
The truth about his mother shakes me to the core, and just thinking about it makes my gut twist in agony again.
He lost both of his parents in a tragedy, and now he carries yet another burden. I can’t imagine how he must feel.
Sighing, I swing my legs over the edge of my hammock and tiptoe up the stairs towards the hatch.
The sound of shuffling feet above me makes me sigh in relief.
The crew must still be awake. As I push it open with my hands, the weak light of the rising sun peaks through the clouds.
It seems like the long table has long been abandoned, empty rum bottles and plates the only thing left scattered across it.
Nightglass is already at his station in the Crow’s Nest, and right next to him, Saint hangs somewhere in the riggings, fixing a sail that still hangs lifeless without the wind.
But the strong current rushing along the hull makes the Noctis move with incredible speed, as though she is determined to get somewhere.
At the helm, Sable and Grim are arguing whilst staring at a map. Grim turns the map a bit, then squeezes his eyes together, as if that would make him see clearer. At their feet, both shadows are where they should be, though Sable’s flickers, as if it would bolt if given the chance.
I wonder if he remembers I talked to him last night. By the way he’s been filling the pages in his diary, probably not. Guilt prickles under my skin. I know I shouldn’t feel bad for reading them, as he showed them to me himself. Still, it feels as though I have violated his privacy.
Sable is now taking over the map, spitting an insult to his first mate that I cannot make out from where I’m standing.
He turns it again, his dark eyebrows knitting together more the longer he looks at it.
Grey eyes catch the sunlight in a way that reminds me of the light cutting through the dense fog on the pirate islands, dull, yet gleaming at the same time.
Underneath, dark, violet circles bloom, the evidence of a sleepless night.
He glances above the map and lets his gaze rest on me. Pressing my lips together, I try my best not to avert my eyes, feeling like I’ve just been caught staring at him.
“Eryse!” Lark appears in front of me with his arms behind his back, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Hey Lark,” I say with a smile on my face. “You managed to stay up? Aren’t you tired?”
“Nah.” His chest puffs up with pride. “I am not tired. I was up fishing all night. I came to give you something.”
The next moment, he holds out a whole, fresh fish to me, so big that it could easily feed two.
“It’s for you.” There’s pure delight in his voice. “You like fish, aye?”
“Yes,” I reply, a grin spreading on my face. The thoughtful gift makes my heart warm. “But Lark, why are you giving me this? Shouldn’t we bring it to the cook and share it?”
He widens his stance and holds the fish out further towards me.
“No. It’s for you. For bringing back my soul.” He smiles. “Father said you know about our curse. I would have told you before, but he said it would only scare you.”
His eyes land on the ground beneath my feet.
“A fish is a poor trade for a soul, I know,” He continues, muttering. “But that's all I’ve got to give.”
“It’s perfect.” I take the fish with a smile, the scales still slimy and wet, as if he just pulled it out of the water. Just how I like it. “Thank you.”
He gives me a curt nod before jumping up the stairs towards the helm.
Sable lets him hold the wheel while they continue to study the map.
My chest tightens as the feeling of responsibility overcomes me.
He wants me to save his crew and believes that I will have the power to do so.
I cannot let him down. Will not let him down.
I cross my arms over my chest and follow Lark to the helm.
Sable glances at me over his shoulder, then returns his focus to the aged piece of paper.
As I stand behind him, I get to peer at the map, unnoticed.
It's the same one that was pinned to the table in his cabin.
It shows the Sea of Dreams, and right next to it, the Sea of Shadows, the death-infested sea we sailed through a few days ago. Above it, the map ends.
“You don’t know where we’re going?”
Both heads snap in my direction. By the way they glare at me, it seems like they don’t like when someone calls out the obvious.
“I always know where this ship is going, lass,” Sable says, then taps his ringed finger in the middle of the Sea of Dreams. “We’re somewhere here.”
“Where precisely?”
He raises one brow. “In the north.”
“And where are we going?”
Sable moves his finger further upwards, towards the edge of the map and then across it, into nothingness. Thin air.
I press my lips together and nod once. “Great. So we’re headed straight for the abyss?”
Silence follows.
Grim drags his hand down his beard and exhales through his teeth, a sound like an irritated hiss. “You’re gambling with our lives, captain.”
Sable doesn’t look at him. He rolls the map back up again and thrusts it into its leathered cover.
“It’s not a gamble,” he says. “It’s our course. We must continue to follow the Glim.”
“A course into nothing,” Grim snaps, stepping closer to the railing and pointing out at the sea ahead. “We don’t know what lies beyond.”
Sable turns then, finally, his gaze sharp as it lands on his first mate.
“No,” he murmurs through gritted teeth. “But what can be worse than the fate that awaits us should we not continue. If we can place our trust in the sea, it will lead us to the Sea of the First Song. And based on its name, I assume it will somehow help Eryse with her song.”
His words fall heavily between them. My gaze lands on Lark, who is still holding the wheel, staring ahead and pretending not to hear their words, when I know he does. They never exclude him. Not during the maelstrom, not now, forming into him the pirate he must be to survive.
Grim's jaw tightens, then he shakes his head. “You’re leading us into the abyss.”
Sable steps closer, close enough that Grim has to tilt his head back to meet his gaze. “ I’d rather die there,” he says quietly, “than rot in the Sea of Bones like the others.”
His words are the last drop in a barrel already filled to the brim, causing it to finally overflow.
Grim curls his hands into a fist at his side. “You don’t get to decide that alone.”
I hold my breath. I know that challenging the captain’s decision means mutiny, and what it does to a crew.
“I do,” Sable replies, his voice calm and controlled. “That’s the curse of being captain. Unless you want to challenge me for the spot?”
Silence. I glance between them, unsure what to do. I feel like an outsider again, watching a conversation I shouldn’t be hearing.
Grim steps back, lips pressed into a thin line, and turns away without another word. The argument dies there, unresolved. I exhale the breath I’ve been holding and watch Sable take over the helm again.
“Captain,” Lark murmurs to excuse himself, then slips away towards the nearest rigging to accompany his father in the Crow’s Nest.
I don’t dare to speak as the Noctis keeps dashing through the water. He has made the decision, for all of us. There’s nothing to do about it.
I am about to leave, my back already turned away, when he speaks, causing me to freeze on the spot.
“You spoke to my shadow,” he says in a sharp tone. It’s not an accusation, but it’s not a question either.
I lift my gaze, but do not turn towards him yet, even though I know that the confrontation is unavoidable and needed.
“I had a feeling,” he continues, quieter now. “And I don’t like being left in the dark.”
For a heartbeat, I consider deflecting. Lying, even. Pretending I don’t know what he’s talking about. I don’t want to make him say it a second time, to drag him through that pain again. But I know it has to be done, that this conversation must happen between us, not just between me and his shadow.
“Yes,” I say. “I did.”
He doesn’t meet my gaze. He stares ahead, his hands gripping the wheel with such force that his knuckles turn white.
“What did he tell you?”
“That returning to you feels like dying,” I say finally. “That staying away hurts less than coming back.”
Sable’s breath leaves him slowly, his lashes fanning against his cheek for a moment, before he finally turns towards me.
“And?” he asks.
“And that he doesn’t believe you can be saved.”
His jaw tightens.
“You told me about your mother,” I continue, my voice steady despite the way my chest aches. “And that you’re scared I’ll end up the way she did.”
He steps closer, the space between us shrinking, but there’s no softness in the movement. The color has almost completely drained from his face.
“Is that true?” I manage to say, sadness rising fast, threading itself through the familiar hum behind my ribs. “You think I will die if I try to save you? And that you’d rather fade away?”
His eyes darken. “You think sacrificing yourself will fix that?”
“I think you’re worth fighting for,” I say, and all I want to do is hug and hold him close.
With the silence that follows comes a soft breeze against my cheek, making me shiver. My hair whips away from my face moments later.
My eyes widen.
Wind.
Sable seems to be too caught up to even notice it, his chest now rising and falling fast, his dark curls dancing on his head, reminding me of the swirls of his shadow.
“My crew comes first,” he says at last. “Always.”
My hands curl at my sides. “You expect me to save everyone else and let the sea take you?”
“Yes,” he says without hesitation. The certainty and definitiveness in his voice is like a punch in my guts.
“Promise me,” he continues. “Promise me you’ll save them first. That you won’t endanger yourself for me.”
The hum behind my ribs surges, and I clench my hands over my stomach as it becomes insistent.
“I can’t promise that,” I say and shake my head. “I won't help you erase yourself.”
His gaze softens, just slightly, only for a heartbeat. “Darling, you have to. I am too far gone.”
I hold his eyes, heart hammering, the weight of everything he said pressing down on me and fueling the throbbing behind my ribs, making me feel physically sick.
“I swear to save your crew first,” I say slowly. “But after I’ve sung back the last shadow of this crew, I swear to the seas, I will sing and drag your shadow back towards you.”
For a long moment, he studies me.
“I want to see you whole,” I whisper. “I want to see that version of you that I met in the dream again.”
Moments pass. His gaze drifts back and forth, undecided, before he folds his hands behind his back and straightens.
“Aye…” His eyes drift past my shoulder, toward the Glim. “But we’ll need to strengthen your power.”
I swallow, relieved that he permitted me to at least try to save him. “How?”
A corner of his mouth lifts. “I have an idea.”