Chapter 17
Reva
“And you’re sure Jack wasn’t just messing with you? I haven’t spent much time with him, but he’s got that kind of look about him.” Frannie dips her hand into the ocean shallows, watching as the water drips off her fingertips with the kind of lazy focus that only a whole lot of rum can produce.
“What kind of look?” I ask, taking a deep swig from my mug of rum as I eye the changing sky as dusk falls. All the colours of the day are fading as gold and pink accents streak across the sky.
“Cheeky. Couldn’t care less. Not someone you’d trust to have your back in a fight.”
I know exactly what she means. He wields his careless attitude like a weapon, flipping from expression to expression like they’re masks he slips on just to confuse and disorientate you.
But I’m pretty certain he’s sincere about trying to help me with the whole sex magic thing, and that he isn’t just fucking with me.
“We all read the same books. Between us, we must have read half a dozen of them, and we all saw what Jack was talking about.” I snort.
“One book even had a step-by-step guide to using sex magic for an energy transference ritual. Apparently, it’s well known in witch circles as a way of increasing their power.
Either that or ritual sacrifices. And since we’re all out of virgins around here, I’m happy to make do. ”
“Volunteered to help you, did he?” She peers out to smirk at me, her hair full of shampoo suds.
I shake my head, rolling my eyes. “He didn’t.” A smile breaks out across my face. “I’m fairly sure Aster, Kit, and Torin will cover it.”
Frannie pauses, her head snapping in my direction. “Oh, yeah?”
“Let’s talk about something else,” I say, my cheeks growing hot. “This is supposed to be a man-free zone. No men. No men talk. I’ve barely seen you this week. What have I missed?”
I’m still feeling pretty raw about missing the pretty obvious thing that Torin doesn’t have any hands and wondering what else I might have overlooked.
Taking another swig of her drink, Frannie eyes me over the top of it.
“One more question, and then we can move on,” she says with a grin.
“When are you supposed to do this? Just wondering when I should make myself scarce from my room, since I can’t imagine it’s something I want to overhear through the wall. ”
Ah, that’s a good point.
“Tomorrow night,” I tell her, right as my gut gives a nervous twist. “Apparently the moon is perfect for it then, or so Aster says.”
“Or he can’t wait any longer.” She grins again. “All right then, I’ll clear out for the night.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I reply. “Seriously, Frannie, I don’t want to kick you out of your bedroom.”
“And I don’t want to listen to you get railed six ways to Sunday, even if it is for a good cause.” Frannie snorts a laugh, and then we’re both giggling helplessly.
“Fair enough,” I reply, wiping my eyes and sucking in a deep breath to steady myself. “But we can use Torin’s room instead.”
“Who are his neighbours?” she asks. “You know they won’t let you live it down if they hear a peep out of you. I’ll find somewhere to make myself scarce for the evening.”
I reach forward and drop clumsily to my knees in the dirt, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek. “Thanks, Fran. I appreciate you.”
“And I appreciate this rum.” She holds up her mug and takes another long gulp. “Say what you like about this bunch, but they know how to pick their booze.”
Snorting, I settle back onto my bum, pulling my knees up to my chest as I lean against the base of a tree. “How are you finding the madhouse?”
“It feels like things have calmed down a bit since Cookie’s birthday,” Frannie replies.
“And I’ve never felt so handy. I’ve fixed floorboards, cleaned chimneys, and helped Cookie in the kitchen without losing a finger.
For an ogress who never lifted a finger before I left the caves, I’ve impressed myself.
” Her black eyes gleam with glee as she speaks.
“I even took a trip out on the last supply run.”
“How was it?”
“I got a few odd looks to begin with. But the crew are so much more interesting to look at, so that helped draw people’s attention away. And then I wound up relighting the blacksmith’s forge that had somehow been allowed to go out. Pretty sure I left the town as a hero.”
I reach out to squeeze her on the shoulder. “Proud of you, Frannie.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty proud of myself too.”
“So you’re not bored here?” I ask.
“Oddly enough, I’m not,” she says. “I don’t think there are many here that are.”
I let out a little ‘hah’ before quickly stifling it. “You weren’t on that ship, Fran, I’ve never seen a group of people with a shorter attention span.”
“But there’s always something different to do here,” she says.
“Cooking, or counting supplies or heading to the village or working out who’s next to go to the village and then spending hours arguing about it until Captain Finch gets involved.
They’re all used to that, but it seems like they’re used to always being on the move too.
I think staying in one place is helping them feel settled.
“Meanwhile,” she continues. “I was settling before and now I feel like I’m... recalibrating. Spending the time to work out what it is I want and how I’m going to get there.” She shakes her head. “So, no, I’m not bored.”
“You’re so wise, Frannie,” I squeeze her hand as she chucks me under the chin like a child.
“I should probably be doing the same thing. But if you’re recalibrating your compass, it feels like mine’s spinning around and round.
I have no clue where it’ll eventually land, and right now it doesn’t feel like it’s going to stop spinning anytime soon. ”
She squeezes my shoulder before bending at the waist so she’s right in my face. “It’s been a big upheaval, for you especially.”
Because of Noush, she means.
Noush and the absolute whirlwind my lovelife has become.
I feel a little quiver in my belly, but push it away. Tonight’s not a night for worries or big thoughts. It’s all about a bit of rum, a sunset, and my favourite ogress.
She opens her mouth to say something else, but snaps it shut again. Peering out at the ocean, she lets out a soft, "Oh, my,” right as there’s the sound of someone wading through the water.
I have to lean forward slightly to see past her, and my mouth goes dry as I spot the figure striding out from the water, dripping wet, with his shirt sticking to his chest like a second skin.
“And we were doing so well,” Frannie murmurs. “Can’t say I’m complaining, though.”
I let out another chuckle as Finch emerges fully from the water, pausing for just a second in front of us before he plops onto the ground between us. Reaching forward, he snags my drink from my fingers and takes a swig before handing it back.
“Thanks, love.”
“Bad evening?” Frannie asks, eyeing him speculatively.
“Busy,” he replies, leaning back on his hands and revealing a mostly bare chest glistening in the light of the fading sun.
“I ditched another half dozen of Kit’s gifts to the king.
Then had a chat with some beast-borne folk that could have done with a lift out of their town.
” He huffs a long sigh. “It’s left me feeling remarkably useless this evening. Not something I’m a fan of, love.”
I squeeze his hand, earning myself a look of surprise that has me retreating. Before I can pull away entirely, his hand rests on top of mine, and then his tentacle layers itself on top of that until we’re a pile of appendages.
“What do you want to do about it?” Frannie asks. “Grab your ship and take them somewhere? Risk them getting arrested too?”
Finch huffs. “Point well made. Hence the impotent feeling. Perhaps we ought to have spent the past decade moving people around if they needed it. We could have been a ship of people smugglers instead of—”
“Merchants of chaos,” I supply, earning me a low chuckle.
“Nicely put.”
“I don’t know what you want us to say,” I tell Finch honestly. “It’s not like either of us has been out there healing the world’s wounds or anything.”
“We’ve both lived remarkably selfish lives,’ Frannie replies. “Just like a lot of people.” She takes another drink before waving her mug around in a lofty manner. “I’d guess even most people.”
“Is this what happens when the two of you drink?” Finch asks. “You turn into wise sages?”
“Or perhaps we’re always wise sages and the drinking is just for fun?” Frannie suggests.
Finch lets out a low chuckle that does dangerous things to my insides. “I’m crashing your lady time, aren’t I?”
“You are, but we don’t mind the eye candy,” Frannie replies. “I was about to do Ree’s hair for her to tame the frizz.”
Finch blinks, eyeing my hair with interest. “Do you mind if I stay?”
Frannie barely glances at me before nodding, and I’m glad that it’s not just me that couldn’t say no to Finch right now. Not while he’s looking all sad and bedraggled and like he can’t quite face going back to the house.
Frannie then pulls a bowl from somewhere, one that’s filled with a green concoction while she shifts to sit behind me. I shiver slightly as she smoothes the cool mixture through the length of my curls, smoothing it slowly so that it gets into each strand.
“Did Kit tell you what happened last night?” I ask Finch, earning myself a filthy snort from Frannie. Unluckily, she’s too far behind me to elbow in the ribs.
“He had an odd turn,” I continue, ignoring Frannie’s tipsy snicker. “Came out here, looking for someone and then he didn’t seem to know where he was or what he was doing.”
“Another reason I’m out of sorts tonight, love,” Finch replies.
“I was really hoping his plan for the king would work, but we haven’t had any luck so far.
” He shifts until he’s sitting slightly closer, and one tentacle tentatively reaches out to poke the bowl of Frannie’s concoction.
“There were another three names added to the list today. Three more of my crew I’ve failed to protect. ”
I pat the tentacle that’s now smoothing through my hair along with Frannie’s deft fingers.
“You’re doing your best, Finch, and that’s all you can do.
” I hesitate and glance over my shoulder at Frannie, judging her reaction as I add, “Maybe you need a hair mask too. It might make you feel better. Captains need pampering too... probably.”
Finch hesitates for a long moment before giving a single head nod that’s more reserved than I’d expect from him. “I might take you up on that, love.”
Frannie and I work our way through her hair first, with Frannie insisting that my fingers are too small to do her hair efficiently without assistance.
She then scrapes her hair away from her face before suddenly remembering that she promised to do something back at the house, efficiently bringing our girls’ night to an end.
When she reaches down to kiss me on the cheek, she murmurs, “Get it, girl. I’ll be asking for notes later.”
Before I can splutter that I’m not intending to ‘get’ anything with Finch, she’s gone, and he’s re-seating himself in front of me with enviable grace. I then only hesitate for a moment before smoothing some of the mixture through Finch’s enviably soft hair.
“You know, I don’t tend to enjoy physical touch,” he says lightly. “Haven’t been in a long while, unless I’m the one initiating contact, but this is surprisingly nice.”
His words fill me with instant horror. My head spins as I parse through every horrifying memory of me casually touching him, every hand pat and squeeze. Was he recoiling every time, and I didn’t notice?
“I’m sorry,” I croak. “I didn’t know.”
“Well, that’s because I never mentioned it, love,” he replies. “Most people don’t come close enough to touch. You’ve been a refreshing change. In more ways than one.”
One of his tentacles reaches out and prods the mixture in the bowl while another caresses my wrist, then wraps around, slowly shifting my focus until I’m smoothing it over the surface of the smooth appendage.
It feels far more intimate than it did with Frannie, now that it’s just the two of us sitting in the moonlight with a cool breeze blowing off the ocean.
“I’m almost falling asleep here, love.” Finch’s low tone breaks the silence as I finish smoothing the mixture through the ends of his hair. I then quietly get to my feet and rinse my hands in the cool, shallow water.
“Thank you.” Finch stretches his arms over his head, his necklaces jingling. “I appreciate you looking after me, even if I don’t deserve it.”
“You do. Of course, you do,” I reply.
He gets to his feet, towering over me and brushing one long strand of mask-covered hair away from my face. “My brother’s a lucky man.” He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, and then we head quietly back to the house.
After all, I have a ritual with Finch’s brother to prepare for.