40. Chapter Forty #2
“It told me,” she says after a moment, her voice softer now, “that you two would either be the beginning or the end.”
My chest tightens as I remember our visit to her cottage, how defeated Sable was at the time, and now his sister gave him hope again. The sea has told her that we will either be the beginning or the end of each other.
I glance at Sable. His gaze has already lifted, fixed on me now, but he is still pale, sweat glistening on his forehead.
“There were many ways this could’ve gone,” she continues. “If either of you had chosen not to follow the Glim, if your trust had faltered even once, not just toward the Glim, but toward one another, you would’ve brought about the end of each other.”
Her gaze flicks briefly to Sable, then back to me.
“But it didn’t.”
At that, a smile tugs at my lips, and Sable looks at me intensely with those grey eyes, as if I am his greatest treasure. I know he is mine.
Grim draws in a deep breath, his body jerking as the wound begins to close, as if drawn together by invisible stitches. He props himself up on one elbow, his other hand pressing tentatively against where the wound had been.
His gaze finds Cailia immediately, and something unspoken passes between them, making her appear softer than I have ever seen her before. She reaches out to him, steadying him as he tries to sit up.
“I’m fine,” he mutters, though his voice is rough.
“You’re not,” she replies, just as quietly.
Sable is still next to him, color returning to his face slowly but surely, and he whispers a quick thanks to the seas. It looks like his faith in it has finally been restored.
Cailia pulls back, her expression serious again.
“You two,” she says to two of the crew members, “please get him on the ship.”
They step forward at once, helping Grim to his feet, one on either side of him.
He does not resist as they lift him, though his gaze lingers on her for a moment longer before he lets them lead him up the plank.
Cailia rises too, already turning on her heel to follow them onto the Noctis.
Then she stops, glances over her shoulder, and gives me a curt nod, as if to thank me one more time.
I lift my mouth into a smile, and she leaves without another word, following them. She didn’t have to thank me. She came to save me, even though I am nothing more than a stranger to her. And so did the rest of the crew, who are still standing around us in a loose circle.
I let my gaze drift through the familiar faces I have come to know.
Nightglass, the fearless father who would do anything for his son, who –despite fearing my kind– made me feel welcome.
Match, the wiry young pirate who put me in my cell, but voted in my favor at the tribunal anyway.
The cook, who let me earn my space amongst the crew and treated me with respect, even let me eat while I was their captive.
And even Harrow is here, though he is already boarding the ship, likely to help the wounded.
My tears begin to well at the sight of them.
“Thank you all,” I croak out, a tear slipping out of my eye. “For coming. For helping me.”
A few of them exchange glances, one of them giving a short nod.
“It’s naught,” Nightglass says and waves a hand in dismissal. He seems to be unharmed, and I am so relieved that he’ll be able to return to his wife and to Lark without so much as a scratch.
Looking around, there’s no sign of the young pirate, but I didn’t expect him to be here. They might include him in most activities, but this would’ve been far too dangerous for him. Although I’m glad he is not here, I cannot wait to see him again, to thank him personally for his kindness.
“We owed you,” Match adds, “big time. You risked your life for us.”
“Aye,” the cook agrees, and I can’t help but smile.
Suddenly, shouting erupts from afar. My gaze drifts past him, toward the edge of the market.
More red coats are spilling out from the stalls now, pushing past overturned crates and scattered goods as they force their way toward the pier.
They all have their muskets raised, ready to shoot.
Only this time, there are way more of them. And they look angry.
“Alright,” Sable says, his voice filled with authority. “Get aboard. Make her ready.”
The change is immediate.
The circle breaks apart as they turn at once, boots striking the planks as each of them moves toward the Noctis. They begin to pull ropes free and loosen the sails, readying the ship for departure.
Sable watches them until the last of them disappears up the plank, before he turns back to me.
He lowers himself to his knees right beside me, then tightens his hands around my tail carefully.
This time he does not pause as he lowers me toward the impatient sea.
Cold water closes over my fin first, then my tail, and finally, he lets me go. And the sea takes me.
The tension I have carried in my body my whole life unwinds at once as the salt seeps into my split skin. All the aches and dryness dissolve as my strength returns to me, more potent than ever before.
My tail moves without me consciously commanding it. The motion begins low in my spine and flows downward in one sweep, a movement that feels both new and instinctive. Water parts around me, sliding across the curved length of my tail without resistance. Welcoming me.
Above me, Sable kneels at the edge of the pier, his gaze fixed on me without wavering.
“Are you alright?” he asks, a deep frown line settling between his eyes.
I turn slightly, letting my tail carry me closer to the surface as I look up at him.
“I think so,” I say.
“No,” I correct myself, unable to stop the smile spreading across my face. “I am way more than alright.”
Relief and pride flash across his gaze before he rises to his feet.
“Well then,” he gestures towards the open sea. “Follow the ship, little siren. We are sailing home.”
Home.
I nod, suddenly excited, and we exchange one more look before he turns and walks towards the Noctis.
“One more thing,” he says.
I tilt my head slightly, waiting for him to continue.
“I was right.”
I frown at him playfully. “Right about what?”
His mouth curves into a smirk. I know by now that this smirk means he is up to no good, and usually ends up making me blush.
“Your tail,” he says. “It is beautiful.”
I open my mouth in confusion, the heat rushing into my cheeks as if commanded. When did he ever say that to me—
Then I remember. His shadow told me many weeks ago.
I bet your tail would’ve been beautiful.
Sable winks, then boards the ship last.
“Raise anchor!” he shouts, now standing at the helm. He grips the wheel with one hand, the wind catching in his dark hair as he looks out across the open water.
The Noctis groans as the anchor is raised, and soon after, the sails catch wind.
“Set course,” he orders. "We sail for the islands!”
The hull turns and leaves the harbor of Cantora, just in time. The docks have filled with men in red, their muskets raised. While some shoot, some shout orders that scatter uselessly across the open water.
They don’t even see me lurking out of the water, just below their feet. Before going under, I glance towards the helm again.
Sable stands there, his posture relaxed, his gaze moving across the gathered guards.
Then his mouth curves.
He removes his hand from the wheel and brings it slowly to his chest, before extending outward in a smooth, exaggerated sweep.
At the same time, he inclines his head toward them in a shallow bow.
The gesture is graceful and mocking all at once.
Sable Crowe, Captain of the Noctis. In all his sarcastic glory.
The wind catches his coat as he straightens, and even from the water, the satisfied smile that settles on his face is visible.
It is the last thing I see before I go under and follow the dark hull of the ship.
Cantora, with all its ropes and slimy eels, becomes nothing more than a shadow dissolving in the distance as I cut through the water.
My tail moves in smooth, instinctive sweeps, each movement becoming easier than the last. Water slips through the slits at the side of my throat and moves through me in a way air never could, its salt sinking into the center of my being.
My mother was right.
Eventually, I learned how to breathe like a daughter of the sea.