38. Commercial Fishing #2
“He saved me, and his onchú saw free food and took advantage of the situation.”
“I know, I know.” Orla shook her head. “I’m sorry.
It’s just—it’s always death, you know? I spent years thinking Ferrin killing the Grimguards had been good.
I thought they’d killed my mother and our Sovereign.
Killing was good if a friend did it for a good reason.
But then Ferrin—you know. And now, it’s just hard to see the positive.
Even when it was done for a good reason.
Even if it means you’re alive. I know you must think me weak or stupid, but killing is just so…
permanent. And I know we have to kill Ferrin.
I know that. And I’m not mad that Ciarán killed a corrupt guard to keep him from killing you.
If it means you are alive, then I’m glad it happened.
But it still makes me sad that death is the only solution sometimes, and I don’t see why those two feelings can’t both exist.”
I wanted to hug her, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. If she was upset about Ciarán killing the guard, she’d consider what I’d done to Ergoth damn near genocide.
“I don’t think you’re weak,” I said. “Or stupid.”
“Please don’t placate me,” she whispered. “I know it’s dumb. How could it not be? I should be thanking Ciarán for saving your life. Instead I'm making myself miserable thinking about the mortality of evil people.”
“I’m not placating you,” I said. “I think Skalterra is a brutal place. I feel it making me more brutal. Every day I spend here, I change a little bit more. But you’ve lived here your whole life, and it can’t touch you. It can’t dull your kindness or your empathy.”
“Some people would call that naivety.”
“Those people would be wrong. You’re gentle. I wish I could be gentle too.”
“I should be happy that Ciarán killed the guard if it saved your life.”
“No. You shouldn’t.” I grabbed her hand. “I’m happy I’m alive. I’m happy Ciarán was there. I’m happy Una made the best of it. But I’m not happy it happened.”
Orla sighed and leaned forward against her knees. “I’m ready for the killing to be over.”
“It will be. It’ll all be over soon. We’ll be safe in Keldori.”
“Will we be?” She raised an eyebrow. “We’ll seal the Rift. My uncle will try to open it again. He can reach us in Keldori as a Nightmare. He’ll hunt us as long as he’s alive. The killing can’t be over until Ferrin is dead. That’s the cold truth of it.”
“Sorcha will send warriors to take care of him,” I assured her. “Sabrina, probably, and I’m sure there’s others who will join her. We won’t have to worry about Ferrin forever.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better, Wren.
” She sighed and stood up. “It still ends with my uncle dead, and I’m sure if my brother gets in the way, they’ll kill him too.
My entire family will be gone, and it’ll all be my uncle’s own fault.
I should be angry, but there’s just too much sadness in the way. ”
“Orla—” I reached for her, but she drew away.
“I’ll be okay,” she said. “I’m not mad at you anymore, but that doesn’t make any of this any easier.”
“It’s hard for all of us.”
“I know.” She forced a sad smile. “But you need to sleep. Like you said. It’ll all be over soon. Rest so we can finish this.”
She crossed the deck to the ladder that led to the lower cabins, and I watched her short hair ruffle in the sea breeze as she looked up at the blue and white sky before climbing down and out of sight.
“She is naive, by the way.” Ciarán’s voice slipped through my head, and I twisted to look at him where he pretended to sleep. He opened his eyes slowly. He’d dulled the usual glow of his irises to keep Davyn and his crew from asking questions.
“You’re awake.” I lay back against Una on my side so that I was facing him. “How do you feel?”
“Annoyed.”
That was true. His irritation for Orla sang on the tether between us like a violin bow dragged across a discordant string.
But underneath the vibrato of annoyance, quiet fear roiled.
I reached for the hem of his tunic. He let me pull it up, but bandages still covered his skin.
“I’ll be fine,” he said. He put his hand over mine, and while the tunic fell back into place, he held my palm against his chest. “We do need to have a serious talk about your arm strength though. Absolutely terrible.”
I yanked my hand away and gave his shoulder a shove. “You leave my arms alone.”
“Sorry, I think a light breeze just brushed my shoulder.” He rubbed where I’d hit him. “Did you feel that?”
I rolled onto my back and watched the clouds pass overhead. “You’re insufferable.”
“You don’t know what you’d do without me, Blue.”
He was teasing me, but I bit my tongue before I could let slip that his words were exactly right.
“When was the last time you slept?” he asked, more gently.
“After Ergoth,” I whispered.
“Wren,” he sighed. “You need to sleep.”
“No.” My voice was too sharp. I swallowed hard. “Sorry. I’m just—”
I broke off to blink at the sky.
“Are you worried about bad dreams?” he asked in my head.
“I don’t want to see Ergoth again. Even if it’s not real,” I admitted. “I don’t want to think about them, dragging you away and-and—”
“No one’s dragging me away.” He took my hand. “I’m right here, and I’ll keep the nightmares away.”
I turned to look at him. Liam used to say those same words to me. I squeezed his hand.
“Okay,” I whispered.
He reached over and passed a hand over my eyes, forcing my lids closed. Then he sang, haunting but soothing, in that same strange language I’d catch him singing in every now and again.
Another whistle from the armada shrieked on the breeze, but I focused on Ciarán’s voice and the rise and fall of Una’s flank until sleep finally consumed me.
Ciarán continued to sing in my head after I fell asleep. The foreign words of the melody slipped across the ridges of my dreams, but it kept thoughts of Ergoth, Barony guards, and rotsbane from sneaking in.
Night had fallen by the time I woke, and the shore had long since receded into the horizon behind us. The ocean surface reflected millions of stars back at the sky so that it felt like we were gliding through space.
Vinia, the captain’s daughter and apparent First Mate, stood stationed at the tiller with a metal tool aimed at the sky as she measured the stars and tracked our trajectory. She nudged the tiller to the left and hummed an idle tune.
A fisherman was showing Iseult and Ciarán new fighting stances near the middle of the deck. His voice drifted back to me in his instruction.
“One foot slightly forward. Yeah, that’s right, so the heel is in line with the toe. Now angle your feet in and bend your knees. Perfect. And that’s how you fight on a boat without losing your balance.”
Ciarán caught me watching and flashed a grin. He shuffled to the side in an attempt to knock Iseult off her feet, but she caught him behind the knee and brought him to the deck using a move similar to the one he’d taught me.
I shook my head and turned to look out the back of the ship at the wake we’d stirred on the ocean’s surface. A dark spot sat on the line between water and sky, and I squinted at the horizon.
“Are there no stars there?” I asked Vinia.
She turned to squint into the night. “No, there are. Something must be blocking them.”
I straightened up. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Probably another ship.”
“Another ship?” My throat seized. “We’re being followed?”
“No,” Vinia laughed. “It’s probably another fishing vessel.”
I gripped the railing. Another fishing vessel wasn’t too crazy of a thought. There had been other boats like this one in the harbor.
And who would be following us? Tamora was more focused on taking her armada up the coast to try to get the jump on Gams, and Caitria was probably still regathering herself after we’d destroyed her camp and Skal supply at Willow’s Grave.
I relaxed my grip and forced myself to breathe.
We were fine. Everything was fine.
But I thought I saw a flicker of gold light on the horizon sputter to life in the middle of the dark spot, and then snuff out.