Chapter Thirty-Six
As the ship collides with the temperamental waves of the persistent winter’s sea, we all huddle together on the deck, under various animal pelts, our bodies quivering relentlessly in the cold.
Truman orders a member of his crew to hand out wooden tankards of ale to us all, swearing hand-on-heart that it would heat us up from the inside out, and we all accept, happy enough to simply believe in the prospect of warmth, even if his theory doesn’t hold up to be true.
And we drink it down with no complaints.
Eliaz, who sits alone on a wooden crate, hardly seems affected by the cold, the brown pelt barely resting atop his shoulders. There is no sign of the numbness and discomfort on his face, no shivering.
He catches me looking at him, and I quickly divert my attention to Diarmid, who sips his ale with subtle displeasure, shoulder-to-shoulder with Lillienne, as I am.
‘What kind of terrifying creatures do you think we might find out there?’ I tilt my head towards the endless, flowing night. ‘We’re not going to be devoured by a giant sea monster before we get to the mainland I hope.’
Diarmid cringes a little at the question, caught off-guard, and proceeds to blinking profusely in thought.
‘I don’t want to hear anything about giant squids, or anything with slimy tentacles for that matter.’ Calli squirms in disgust, amber liquid sloshing over the rim of her tankard.
‘You must not get along with Cole very well then,’ Lillienne quips.
‘You’re just bitter I refuse to let you anywhere near me, tentacles included,’ Cole sips his ale, nonchalantly.
‘You’re gross. Go shrivel up in whatever dingy cave you were born in,’ Lillienne says, turning to Diarmid. ‘There are sharp-toothed fish, I forget what they are called, shorps?’
‘Sharks,’ Diarmid corrects. ‘And there are many species of them. You won’t find any of those sharp-toothed fiends in these waters, they prefer a warmer climate.
What you might possibly find are the harmless variants.
’ He clears his throat to continue. ‘You know, it is funny. It is a common myth that the stretch of sea between the Isle of Valtayre and Attanae is home to a large population of sea lions, but that would be incorrect, what we do have is an impressive number of seals.’ ‘Why the fuck am I not drunk yet?’ Cole stares into his tankard, peeved.
‘You’re just jealous you’re not the smartest one here.’ Eliaz tells him. ‘And we will need a lot more of this ale if that is our goal for this evening. He raises his own tankard in the air, grabbing the attention of a small cabin boy and shouts over to him. ‘Another round for us all.’
And from there the mayhem begins. After our sixth round, Calli declares that she is incredibly deft at standing on her hands, Cole loosens up enough to challenge Lillienne to an arm wrestle, and Diarmid’s voice loudens a few notches when he spots a rare type of seabird he’s only read about in journals.
Eliaz watches on intently as I do, swaying with the movement of the sea, a spectator to the fun, rather than a participant.
I get to my feet, clumsy but steady enough to play it off as me righting my balance to the swaying of the ship. Dodging Calli as she falls from her attempt at head-standing, I approach him.
‘Scootch over,’ I say, a little boldly, I admit. His surprise softens into an intoxicated, slow-blinking agreement. Bowing his head, he obliges and makes room. It is a tight fit, but I barely pay attention to the fact that half of my buttocks hang off the side of the make-shift seat.
‘I would’ve thought you’d jump at the chance to take down Cole in an arm wrestle.’ He bumps his shoulder into mine, giddy.
‘You mistake me for someone with any amount of bodily strength, my friend.’
He suppresses a smile. ‘Ah, so we’re friends now. I had wondered if we’d made that progression yet.’
‘I think it’s safe to define ourselves in such a way.
We are going to have to at least maintain an allyship once this is all over.
Our kingdoms need each other, just as much as we need each other.
’ He raises a brow. ‘We need each other, do we? Well, Princess that’s quite the advancement from friendship, but as is the natural progression of the world. ’
I give him a playful punch to the arm. ‘You know what I mean. We’re in this together, and I suspect we will be for a long time.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what happens when we get to the bottom of the affliction, when we take down the Divide.
We will have our work cut out rebuilding and moving forward together. ’
He slackens his posture, resting his arms atop his spread knees, and stares down into his ale.
‘It worries me to no end, Eira. This all, it’s just the beginning.
But what I cannot shake from my mind is the fear of what might happen after we bring down the Divide.
Your mother – she does not agree with us or see any issues.
’ He takes a swig of ale. ‘Umbra is essentially defenceless against a kingdom with the strength of Reyhen’s.
I fear all our hopes for allyship are just that – hopes. ’
Without much thought, I place a hand on his arm, a reflexive gesture of comfort that we both stare at, unsure what to make of it.
I take a deep breath. ‘You will have access to the Relic again, you will be equally as strong. I wish I could assure you more. But just know that I will do everything in my power to make sure the entirety of Valtayre comes out of this stronger, more resilient than before.’
‘I just cannot be sure. You can understand, all these benefits come with risks.’
I remove my hand from his arm, sitting upright again. ‘Then why risk it? If I might be so bold. Why agree to figure out how to remove the Divide? Why not set out to find some other way to fix it all, some way that does place the future of Umbra at such a risk as you say?’
‘Because I am tired, Eira.’ He sighs. ‘And I’m afraid the prospects of the future we could potentially give each other, give our kingdoms, well – it’s a risk I could not live without taking.’
I sigh. Understanding and not understanding all at once. Progress, I guess.
‘Eliaz, look! Cole is crying,’ Calli shouts, standing on her hands just as she said she could, although cheating slightly, her feet propped up against the wood of the mass.
‘I do not cry,’ Cole shouts louder. ‘This sore loser of a girl just threw ale in my eyes.’
‘Whatever you say,’ Lilienne says, stumbling to her feet, Diarmid jumping upwards before she falls head-first into a crate of wood. ‘I am starved. There must be food on this ship somewhere.’
Barely aware of Diarmid’s assistance, she staggers off gods know where, in search of sustenance.
‘She usually has such a good tolerance for alcohol, I actually have no idea what’s gotten into her,’ I laugh, watching her drag Diarmid into walls, tripping over her own feet.
‘She is human now. She possesses a mortal tolerance now,’ Eliaz says, deep in the bad mood I’ve put him in. Why must I have that effect on him? I swear all I’m capable of is making him angry or bringing him to tears.
Cole pushes himself up from the ground, yawning into a stretch. ‘It would seem that I desperately need to relieve myself.’
Calli falls into a heap on the floor, blinking sleepily up to the sky. I wait until Cole is out of view before whispering to Eliaz. ‘He is an interesting choice for a friend, you have to admit.’
He tenses his jaw. ‘Like the most of us, he has had a difficult past. You of all people should understand, how sometimes we must overlook what came before we make friends with someone.’
Slightly hurt by what he is insinuating I prepare to stand. I won’t sit here and pretend we’re doing anything other than what we owe to each other, for our collective pasts.
‘I seem to have offended you, in some way, and I apologise. I think I will take my leave in order to avoid any further upset.’
‘No, don’t.’ He catches my wrist as I turn from him. This has happened before, and this time feels just as strange. Known and unknown. Rousing a new, and yet, as ancient a feeling as a first breath.
‘You sure do like to get in the way of a woman as she takes her leave from you.’
‘Please, sit down, I am sorry. The ale is getting in the way of my decency. I apologise. Sit, I beg you.’ His eyes are dark and glistening in the lanternlight as they plead with mine.
‘As much as a girl can appreciate a little begging, I really do think it’s time I get to bed.
I should find Lillienne, relieve Diarmid of his duties.
’ My attempt to tug myself free from his hold is in vain, and instead, he stands to his feet, so that he is mere inches from me, his head tilted down to me due to the height difference.
‘Please, I really am sorry. I don’t mean to be this way. It’s the—’
‘I know,’ I whisper, and I think I might.
He tightens his lips, exhaling throughout his nose. ‘You really believe we can make things right?’
His eyes are glistening, his cheeks flushed a lively shade of pink, on his breath the sweet, light and intoxicating smell of honeyed ale.
In their proximity to me, my eyes trail over those lips, full and red, the question still hanging there, expectance swirling with the heat of his breath in the winter air.
Taking a deep inhale, I bring my focus to his eyes, bringing my head up as I do so, and he tilts his chin towards me, searching me.
‘I believe that we will do all that we can,’ I finally say. ‘Whatever the price.’
Scepticism tugs at his brows. ‘And that is absolute? There’s truly no price you wouldn’t be willing to pay for all of this?’
I bite my bottom lip, eyes still fixed on his. ‘I guess there’s no way of telling for sure, until the situation demands it. Another exercise of our trust in each other.’
‘Let us hope neither of us finds ourselves in such a damning position.’
It’s his eyes that stray from mine first, tracing the lines of my cheeks, the shape of my parted lips, his chest rising and falling with slow, straining breaths, as though he is battling off the quickness of breath that the moment demands.
Because I know, his pulse is battering traitorous beats as he restrains himself, his skin is unusually warm for someone standing in the open sea, in the freezing cold dark of winter.
I am certain that he is battling with every ounce of his self-control not to give into what his body screams out for.
I know this, because, in this moment, the vulnerability of it, how exposed and rash it is, that I feel it all too.
My wrist still burning under his touch, his other hand moves elsewhere, fingers brushing against my cheek as he tucks a few curls behind my ears, before resting finally, firmly, on the back of my head, willing me closer.
‘There are, however, some things I have known so fleetingly to bear parting with yet.’
Those amber eyes are glistening with sweet desperation, a warm honey oozing through the tension of his face, turning his features soft and wanting.
I place my hand on his, teetering on the brink of crying, dizzy with the intensity of the atmosphere, the ale, the sea. With him.
The wind howls within me, and I am caught in it – the thrashing, tearing storm of the moment.
‘All the time in this wretched immortal life, and everything still feels so brief. So untouchable,’ I whisper.
And the thing that is holding him back snaps, and he leans forward, about to act on the thing we both were barely able to resist, pulling my head towards him.
My eyes close, and I am ready for it, the stupidity of it, the messiness of it.
The escape of it. Of him. I can barely hear my heartbeat over the battering of the waves, the wind, the energy of him, of me, of us.
‘I found bread!’ Lillienne screams.
And we are ripped apart. Or he pulls away. Or I do.
In the haste of it, it isn’t clear anymore. He lets go of me, and turns away, hand rubbing his chin. I am left winded, wrenched from what might have been, watching as he realises what was about to happen, what we would have done.
He looks to the floor, and I observe as he labels it a mistake in his head, tucking it away in a drawer in his mind, where he stashes all his lapses in judgements.
And the moment, no matter how vulnerable and intimate, becomes nothing more than a lesson of what happens if you let your guard down and act.
He won’t look at me.
Lillienne stumbles down the stairs from the top deck, clutching the edible prize from her rummaging in the galley.
Diarmid holding her upright still. She falls into me, mouth already stuffed full of bread, and I stagger backward slightly, clutching her as Diarmid does, so that all of us don’t fall to the floor.
‘There’s. No. Butter,' she says between chews, ‘There. should. Always. Be. Butter.’
I pull the hair from her face, afraid it might get caught up in that mass of loaf in her mouth. ‘I think it might be bedtime for you.’
There is a pause of at least ten seconds where Diarmid and I just stare at her, as she swallows down the food. ‘But I am having so much fun. Calli will stay up with me, won’t you Calli?’
But Calli, still in that crumpled heap where she fell, just snores.
‘Oh.’ Lillienne pouts. ‘Well, Diarmid will look after me then.’
She pokes at his cheeks, which react by turning a deep crimson. His eyes flit from Lillienne, to me, and I try and tell him without words not to oblige. He nods at me by way of showing his understanding.
‘A-actually, I was thinking I might also turn in for the night. I am anxious for what tomorrow brings.’ I mouth a grateful ‘thank you.’
Lillienne blows a raspberry in his face and he blinks, almost smiling, but not quite.
‘Fine, you all win. But just know, I will never forgive you for ruining my fun, and I will get my revenge when you least expect it.’
‘I think we’re both prepared to take our chances with that. Give me the bread and get going to bed.’
As we stumble forward with great difficulty, I steal a look behind me, to Eliaz, who sits there on the crate again, head rested in his hands.
A tiny speck of me expects him – no, hopes for him – to look up at me, so that I might see proof of his regret or his shame at having come so close to kissing the daughter of the man who tried to kill him.
But he does not so much as glance at me as I go, because why should he?
We may have a strong allyship, but it can never become more. He will always fall back into the reality that I am, and always have been, an enemy to him.