chapter twelve #2
I dig out my coin purse after spotting the tall Reān boatman, who’s selling tickets to board the ship while making his way toward us.
He’s an explosion of color. His wide vibrant blue pants are tucked into high boots stopping right below the knee.
His shirt, a contrasting cherry red with gold hems and wide sleeves, is cinched at the forearms by broad, worn leather braces.
A cropped leather vest rests atop the shirt, which gapes open to reveal a toned chest, nearly to his navel.
Not wanting to get caught staring, I pull my gaze away, noticing the glint of a short curled sword at his hip as I do so.
I glance back at Seniia and Vilder. “What’s the price for a ticket?”
“Three pieces,” Vilder says.
I take three iron pennies from my purse, pushing aside the prickly sensation they give me, as the boatman approaches, his long sea-green curls tumbling around a face as dark as the night sky. “One ticket for Caelēn.”
He passes me the ticket with a grunt, piercing yellow eyes narrowing as he takes in my human features.
Taking the ticket with one hand, I offer him my iron pennies with the other. A look of confusion washes over his face before he abruptly jumps back, tossing the pennies away as if they were scorching hot.
In the blink of an eye, chaos ensues.
A sudden force lifts me off the ground, and I’m instantly suspended, dangling an inch above the rough-hewn wooden planks. Invisible threads of air wrap around my upper body, pinning my arms to my sides.
With a snarl that reveals his vicious fangs, the boatman stalks toward me, hurling a barrage of expletives that introduce an entire array of colorful new words into my repertoire.
I open my mouth to scream but only manage a whimper before my mouth is similarly gagged. I yank at my arms, but the threads, whatever they’re made of, are impossibly strong, and a cold dread washes over me as I realize my terrifying and complete lack of control.
Trapped. Voiceless. Powerless.
Pictures of Bronich flash through my mind in vivid imagery. My chest tightens. My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my throat. The edges of my vision blur, my lungs refuse to expand properly. The air won't come.
Can’t breathe.
Cold sweat breaks across my skin, as I yank against the invisible bonds over and over.
Calm down, La?na. Calm. Down.
I fix my stare at the sun glinting off the water—a mockingly serene sight that starkly contrasts with the rising panic clawing at my throat—willing myself to relax. I manage to suck in a breath.
“Ignorant humans,” a fellow passenger spits as he steps past me where I hang and onto the boat.
“For fuck’s sake, La?na,” Vilder grumbles, pushing a hand through his disheveled head of hair. “Do you have a death wish?” He turns toward the boatman. “Let her down.”
The boatman doesn’t budge. “She started it. She only gets what she deserves.”
I want to ask what I’ve started, but the gag hinders me from doing so.
Vilder curls his lip, baring his fangs. “I give two shits about who started it. I will finish it.”
Their eyes lock, and what feels like an eternity passes in the silence between them before the boatman’s gaze finally drops, his head dipping in a subtle bow of submission.
Vilder flicks his wrist in my direction, and I fall to the pier with a thud.
I give him my best glare, but he’s busy handing the boatman the white chips that apparently are the proper type of payment.
“Thank you,” he says, placing the tickets into one of his pockets.
“And please excuse her ignorance. She clearly”—he shoots a withering look in my direction—“doesn’t know any better. ”
Seniia hurries over to help me to my feet, while Vilder places two fingers in his mouth and releases a high-pitched whistle.
Seniia goes still upon seeing the large gray wolf trotting toward us, and I wisely duck behind her, then peek over her shoulder.
It’s not as large as the wolf who saved me from those human men, but it’s at least twice the size of those I encountered inside the pass.
My gaze flickers between Vilder and the wolf, which is now seated at his feet. He can’t be serious.
“Is that going on the ship with us?” I somehow manage to keep my voice calm.
He doesn’t even bother to answer as he shepherds me and Seniia onto the boat.
My focus is entirely on the wolf until I notice the three narrow beds in the cramped shared quarters Vilder has shoved us into; for a moment, I can’t decide what frightens me most—the wolf, Vilder’s rage, or having to share such close sleeping space with a man. Male. Whatever.
Vilder signals for the wolf to wait outside, then shuts the door and turns his attention toward me. “Where in Zerex’s name did you get ahold of those? Don’t you know iron is forbidden in Reā?” He stares at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“I . . . Um . . . No?” My whisper comes out sounding like a question, but I didn’t know.
How could I? I sink down onto a bed, staring at my hands to avoid seeing his reproachful look.
All my previous contentment is gone, replaced by shame and guilt for dragging the two of them into my mess.
They’ve been nothing but kind toward me, and this is how I repay them?
I didn’t even have money to pay for my own journey.
Part of me wonders how Llyr thought I would make it to the Arc without any money.
And what would have happened to me if I couldn’t fulfill my soulbinding?
“Oh, come on now, Vilder,” Seniia says. “Can’t you see that dear La?na is suffering enough without you adding to it?”
I dare a look at him, and his face softens noticeably.
He lets out a long huff. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have gotten so angry at you. Of course you didn’t know. You grew up in the fucking Voidlands.”
Seniia nods. “We should have watched out for you,” she says, her face solemn. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s us. Right, Vilder?”
My gaze shifts between them. She can’t be serious. “It’s not your—” I start, but Vilder interrupts me.
“Though I hate to acknowledge it, Seniia is right for once,” he says, causing Seniia to give him a smack on the back of his head.
“We should have been watching out for you. From the sounds of it, you’ve already been through enough.
It’s the least we should do.” He flops onto the bed across from me, Seniia following suit.
I give them an uncertain smile. “Friends?”
“Friends,” they say in unison, causing all three of us to laugh. And just like that, the tension is gone.
“So, why is iron forbidden?” I finally dare to ask, inwardly cursing Ero for not providing me with this information. Or maybe he did. He spoke in riddles half the time, so who knows what valuable information I missed out on?
“It’s the main component of a brace,” Vilder says through clenched teeth.
“Yeah, it will block a Reān’s magic,” Seniia says. “Kind of like moonroot, but worse. And unless you’re wearing gloves or are cut off from source in some way, pure iron burns your skin when you touch it.”
“Oh.” My shoulders slump. That explains why the boatman threw the pieces away like they were hot coal.
It also explains why iron is everywhere in Bronich.
If it can stop magic, I’m surprised they didn’t build the entire city out of iron.
Horror washes over me. What the Reān must have been thinking!
“I didn’t intend to hurt anyone,” I blurt. “I swear.”
“I know,” Seniia says. “Lucky for you, I’m an empath.” She winks at me, then clearly remembers I’m as clueless as a newborn baby and adds, “I can sense emotions and intentions. It’s common amongst healers. I know you didn’t mean any harm.”
I smile at her, hoping it conveys my gratitude, then let out a huff as I flop onto my back and close my eyes, allowing the ship’s gentle rocking motion to soothe my frazzled nerves.
I’ve never been on a ship before, but I like it.
The only experience I’ve ever had on a boat was when Em and I snuck out of the orphanage and secretly borrowed caretaker Kai’s boat to go fishing.
We had such a good time that even Mistress Andrine’s fury when she found out couldn’t wipe the grins from our faces.
Em. I wonder what she would have thought of this place.
I swallow the lump forming in my throat.
I tilt my head so I can see Seniia and Vilder through my half-closed eyes.
They sit on the bunk across from mine; Seniia is sorting through what appears to be a medicinal purse, and Vilder writes in his journal.
What’s so special about them that I already trust them more than people I’ve known my whole life?
In less than a day, I can sense a connection that’s deeper and stronger even than the one I shared with Emma.
It makes me wonder if they sense it as well.
“We know this ship has windwielders,” Seniia says with a low chuckle, looking toward Vilder. “But do you have any idea how long it will take us to reach Caelēn?”
A windwielder? Is that what the boatman is?
Vilder nods. “They have three.” His forehead puckers in thought. “It should be four nights at sea at the most. My estimation is that we’ll arrive early in the morning on Ninth Day.” He turns back to his journaling, and Seniia dives into a book on medicinal herbs.
Four more nights. Will Llyr be waiting for me at the Arc?
Burn him and his promises. My nails dig into my palms as I search my memory for his exact wording.
There has to be a way for me to fulfill this soulbinding without having to interact with him.
I chew on my lip. He never said I had to talk to him, did he?
He only made me promise to go to the Arc.
Fate willing, I’ll have to go no farther than the front door before I can turn around.
Worst-case scenario, I’ll have to find a way to get inside the Arc and out again before he can get ahold of me.
And then I’ll never have to see him again.