Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Time passes slowly as we sit in hiding, waiting for the Voyager to walk through the side of the cliff. My legs are stiff and I’m eager to get out of this place, not only to work the tension from my limbs, but also to end all the uninterrupted thinking.
Stewing in my thoughts hasn’t helped at all, and I feel even more confused than before.
Movement catches my eye, and I peer over the boulders toward the portal where a tall, shadowy figure appears. It can’t be Mara, and I’m almost relieved until my heart stutters.
Did Dane find the waters?
Weston stands silently from his position and strides across the beach, sword drawn as he slowly creeps toward the open sand. My breath catches in my throat and panic rises in my chest. What if that is Dane? Weston is going out to confront him, alone. What if Dane hurts him again?
My muscles seize as I hold myself back from storming out behind him, and instead I watch with bated breath as he slinks into position behind the Voyager.
Is this how Weston feels whenever I put myself at risk?
Sig and Stass both pull their scarves over their faces, and I follow suit. They slide out silently from behind the boulder, their movements small so as not to draw attention, but mine are not the same. I can’t pay attention to what I am doing. I can only watch Weston.
The figure takes slow steps down the beach, his shoulders slumped and head hung as he kicks the sand. My panic calms slightly when I watch his mannerisms. I know how Dane moves and the way he walks. This person can’t be Dane, which means it has to be someone else.
He must have been unworthy, too.
The rest of the Castaways are moving, creeping across the sand and slowly surrounding Weston and the figure from behind.
Weston levels his sword at the man’s back, and his voice rings out over the quiet beach.
“Stop where you are.”
The figure freezes in front of him before turning around quickly, his eyes drawn right to Weston’s blade. Everyone moves quickly after that, encircling the pair, just as they did with me, cutting off all pathways to escape. If he tries, he’s going to have to go through one of us.
I fall in next to Sig, not knowing if there’s something I should be doing. I was too focused on Weston holding me captive with my dagger to know what the rest of the crew did.
The Voyager looks up at Weston, and his eyes widen with fear.
Taril.
The last time I saw him, he was showing me to the cabin at camp, helping me prepare for the night that would change everything, the night they took Fin.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Weston says, but Taril doesn’t hear it. He’s too focused on everything else, frantically looking around at all of us, masked and surrounding him.
“You’re going to come with us now,” Weston says, and that catches Taril’s attention.
Taril’s gaze shifts back to Weston, then beyond again, moving from person to person. It’s easy to see the thoughts run through his head, assessing the threat and trying to decide what to do. The fingers on his hand twitch, as if he’s thinking about grabbing his blade and striking at Weston.
Instinct takes over, and I can’t stop myself.
I can’t just stand here and watch Weston get attacked.
He told us to let him handle whatever goes poorly, but all I can think about is Dane slicing him open and how, even through all the anger, I don’t want to watch him be hurt again.
Especially if there’s something I can do about it.
“Taril, don’t!” I call out, charging forward from my spot in the circle and holding my hands out, my arms held up, showing him I’m not trying to attack him.
Taril pulls his gaze away from Weston and it falls on me, right as I pull the scarf down under my chin.
“Lennox?” he says, his eyes widening.
“It’s alright, Taril. Just listen to him. He’s telling the truth. We won’t hurt you.”
Weston’s eyes sear the side of my face as I stand next to him, but I refuse to look over, keeping my focus on Taril.
“Are you trying to trick me?” Taril asks, directing his question at me.
I understand how this would be his first reaction after everything Dane has said. It was mine too, except mine was already coated with anger because of everything that happened with Fin leading up to it, and having already met Weston.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I promise it will be fine. No one is trying to trick anyone here.”
He quirks his head, then thinks for a moment before slowly raising his hands in surrender.
Weston nods at the group across the beach and shifts to the side, stepping between Taril and me, his broad body shielding me from the potential of him lashing out.
Jorn steps forward this time, and goes through the same process Sig did, pulling all the weapons off Taril and tying his hands together.
Just before he reaches around to tie the blindfold over him, Jorn pulls down his scarf to reveal a huge smile.
“Jorn,” Taril breathes.
“You finally made it, brother,” Jorn says happily, clapping Taril on the shoulder. Taril visibly relaxes and lets Jorn tie the blindfold and lead him back to the portal without a fuss. The tension on the beach eases as everyone quietly follows to the safety of the tunnel.
Weston’s hand falls on the small of my back, the heat from his hand warming me through the shirt as he gently nudges me forward.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he mumbles, scanning the ledge of the cliff as we walk across the beach.
“So it’s fine for you to not want me to get hurt, but I can’t do the same for you?”
He doesn’t respond, but I see his jaw clench as he continues to look anywhere else but at me.
“Besides,” I continue, “you were right there if anything happened. I knew Taril wouldn’t hurt me. But you? He probably would have tried to hurt you.”
His hand flexes on my back and I watch the uneven sand under my feet, changing the subject quickly.
“That went quite a bit differently than when you took me. You were a lot less threatening.”
“He hadn’t already tried to stab me.” I can hear the smile in his voice and feel my lips turn up.
“That is true,” I say as I step up into the open side of the mountain. Weston reaches back and closes the stone door behind us, sealing off the outside world and casting us back into silence.
“Stassia said something earlier, and I can’t get it out of my head,” I say.
He stays quiet, waiting for me to continue.
“Don’t you think it’s odd that three of us have found the entrance so close together? Isn’t it normally a long time between collections?”
He rubs his hand over his jaw. “I had the thought.”
“So what does it mean? Is it just a coincidence?”
Weston lets out a slow breath. “That’s the only thing it could be. Everyone finds the waters on their own, with their own methods. Dawnlin doesn’t give us clues. It tries to keep us away. It wouldn’t make sense for it to be changing now.”
“But what if it’s a sign? What if the island wants things to change?”
He glances down quickly before staring back down the tunnel.
“If the island wanted things to change, it would give us a way home. It hasn’t.”
“But didn’t Sig say that I could help with that? Maybe bringing more of us here is the sign—”
“No.”
“But it makes sense!”
“No, it doesn’t. It’s just a coincidence.”
He starts down the tunnel and I trail after him. His entire demeanor has shifted, and I know, no matter what I try, I won’t get any farther tonight. Once he closes himself off, he’s difficult to get back open again.
After the worry of watching him put himself in danger, and watching Taril think about harming him, it’s like my anger has disappeared and it feels like his has too. Now that the tension is broken, I just want to talk to him again, back to how it was before I found out about the lies.
“How long are you going to keep him in the brig?” I ask as I fall into stride next to him.
“As long as it takes. Dane is convincing, and I need to make sure he isn’t going to hurt anyone.”
“You let me out before that. I tried to jump off the ship.”
He smirks at the memory, the fire from the torches dancing in his eyes.
“I did what I had to. You probably would have only hurt me, and I wasn’t worried about winning yet another spar against you.”
I shoot him a glare, and he laughs, the sound echoing in the tunnel and sending a shiver down my spine.
“He knows Jorn, so it will probably be quick. Hopefully he doesn’t starve himself.”
I roll my eyes. “You know I’ve had hostility training. You can’t blame me for trying to protect myself.”
“I can blame you if I have to watch it harm you.”
“Is that why you sat outside the door? Because I wasn’t eating?”
My mind flashes back to hearing him argue with Sig. Gods, it feels like a lifetime ago now.
He doesn’t answer right away, and when he does, his voice drops even lower than before. “I had to make sure you stayed alive. I knew what you were doing, but I did everything I could to get you to stop.”
“You sent Fin in.”
He nods slowly. “I knew you wouldn’t listen to me, but I hoped you’d listen to him.”
“You were right.”
“I usually am, princess.” His lips break into a sly grin, and I feel the urge to shove him with my shoulder, but I don’t. I keep my distance, knowing that every time he touches me, feelings I try to suppress come flooding back, and all I can think about is wanting his hands on me again.
The portal comes into sight, and I can see the rest of the crew crossing the beach onto the reef in the distance when Weston turns and stops in front of me. I stop abruptly and look up at him, but he stares at the ground, his brow furrowed.
“I don’t know who you’ve dealt with back home, what your relationships are like with your handmaids, and guards, and everyone else,” he says.
“But I’m not like most of them. Remmington and Lyla were my friends.
I cared about them. I’m not just someone who tried to climb the ranks and get to the top. ”
He pauses, as if he’s trying to find the courage to say whatever he is thinking, and I seal my lips shut so I don’t interrupt.
Is he actually going to be honest and tell me how he feels?
“Keeping you safe is my job. I may have sworn an oath to the crown…” His teal eyes meet mine, shining with an intensity that makes my chest tighten.
His arm extends slightly and I jolt at the whisper of a touch as the pads of his fingertips brush against mine.
Fire burns low in my abdomen and I swallow hard, my eyes not leaving his.
His voice is gruff as his molten eyes caress my face.
“But I do actually care. Even if I’m not supposed to.”
He holds my stare as he slowly steps backwards through the portal, before turning his back to me and striding toward the beach.
“Hurry up, princess,” he calls over his shoulder, but I just stare at his back, stunned.
Did I jump to conclusions because of my insecurities? Is it fair that I pegged Weston’s motives as solely from his duty and nothing more?
Yes, he treats me differently than the rest of the crew, but he does whatever he needs to do to save them. Jorn proved that. Weston saved his life numerous times.
Is being overbearingly protective how he shows he cares? Is that why he agreed to be my father’s First Guard to begin with, because of his love for his childhood best friend?
Maybe I don’t understand Weston as much as I thought I did.
This caring man is hidden under a rough and protective exterior.
He took on the responsibility for everyone in this crew, despite having no relationship with any of them before.
He has been in this role for over twenty years, stuck here, fighting for a way home.
He wouldn’t be doing all of that if he didn’t care deeply, even if he has a terrible way of showing it.
This is why everyone says I’m the only one who thinks he’s an asshole.
I step through the portal and trudge after him, no closer to figuring out how I feel about any of this. Maybe I misjudged him, and maybe if I accept how he is, we can go back to being friends.
Because I won’t be able to handle an eternity without friendship if this ship becomes my permanent home.