Chapter 50 A Day Like Any Other
A Day Like Any Other
Caramyn
Veylan said it would take an extra day to get back since they were sailing upriver.
The old captain kept to himself and refused to speak to any of them, though Caramyn and Asterious took turns bringing him food whenever they’d found enough ingredients to put something together to give them a break from the dry jerky and berries.
Caramyn prodded him once when she was bored, when he was at the helm and couldn’t leave it to escape her questions. She begged him to tell her how he knew Zera in exchange for her silence the rest of the way.
“If you must know. I suppose it don’t matter.
But every question after costs you a finger.
” He grumbled his threats as his tongue drew out the last word, but Caramyn noticed the inkling of a smile that broke through as he spoke of Zera.
“She was once one a High Council member of Gahmea, revered for her visions—until me and my father were caught stealing from one of the consuls there. She defied the other council members and argued that the son of a pirate shouldn’t pay for his father’s deeds.
Instead of letting them put me to death alongside him, she freed me against their knowledge.
They banished her for treachery. She fled to Evylere years before the King purged out all the magic.
And here I am, an honest fisherman makin’ it far longer than my father ever did.
And there she is, wandering the Silverean mountains in exile.
A damn shame really.” There was a long pause before Veylan spoke again, gesturing with his hands for Caramyn to leave his post. “Now go clean all the bird shit off the deck before I feed that raven to the sharks.”
If anyone else had threatened Nocthar like that, they wouldn’t have lived to see the next day. But Caramyn had come to learn that Veylan was all bark and no bite, and almost found his bitter mutterings humorous—that, and the fact that he was their only way home. And they were almost there.
On the last night before making port, Caramyn woke, disturbed by something she couldn’t name.
Her immediate thought was of Asterious, and she went to check on him in the galley.
She found him tossing, groaning in agony or fear, and tears streaking from his eyes that were shut tight.
His blanket was tossed aside, and he was shivering, shirtless, curled up defensively, bracing for an invisible foe and sometimes trying to fight back.
She ran and dropped to his side, calling his name.
He didn’t rouse from his nightmare, so she said his name louder, grabbing him with all her strength and trying to still him.
He fought harder, until he clasped his hand around her wrist and the other hand gripped her throat.
His eyes flew open, still shining from the tears.
“Caramyn!” He ripped his hand from her neck as though she were on fire. His voice was broken, jagged, and hoarsely desperate. “I could’ve killed you!”
“But you didn’t.” Caramyn whispered, shocked, but not afraid. “What’s happening? Are you…changing?”
“No.” He panted, tears rolling down his face. “Just nightmares.”
She put a hand on his shoulder, soothing him as his quick breaths slowed. He’d ripped some of his stitches open, and bits of blood streamed down his back. She reached for the blanket in the corner, pulling it over him. “I get them, too,” she said.
“I imagine living in the Shadow Woods made them all the worse.” Asterious put a hand to his head, damp with sweat despite the cold.
“Not exactly,” she tilted her head, kneeling beside him and drawing him close. “Mine are never about Shadows. Only fire.”
“The fire should fear you.” The prince rested his head against her breast. “Mine are mostly Shadows and blood. I don’t remember them when I wake up. I know they’re memories. Memories I can’t reach.”
It was dangerous, she knew, to be here with him like this, to run her fingers in soothing patterns along his bare, scarred back in comfort. But she would not leave him alone to face this.
“Sometimes I wish I couldn’t reach mine.” Caramyn exhaled, feeling the warmth of the prince against her chest. She watched him rest, closing his eyes peacefully as the tears dried along with the bloodstains on his back.
“You’re much more comfortable than the floor,” he mumbled softly, earning a small laugh from Caramyn.
The knob on the galley door turned with a click and she bolted upright. Asterious sat up, facing the door.
“Brenn,” she muttered at the sight of him in the door frame.
“I heard some commotion and thought I’d check to make sure everyone was all right.” Brenn’s gaze snapped from her to Asterious as he shifted a step backward, seemingly uncomfortable at the sight of them on the floor together, Asterious shirtless and damp with sweat. “I can see that you are.”
Caramyn stood to her feet. “Thank you for your concern. We’re fine.”
His expression didn’t soften. He walked away, leaving the door open, but not without calling back.
“We’ll be docking at Magoth in an hour or less.
We hit a current that moved us along faster than expected.
The queen has posted soldiers in all port cities to search boats and watch for rebels—especially magic ones.
You’ll need to be ready to sneak off quickly. ”
Caramyn gestured towards her room. “I should go get my things together.”
The prince nodded.
She rolled up her blankets, packed away her flask, and slung her bow and quiver around her shoulder so they would be ready to take up to the deck when it was time. And then she decided to watch the stars fade with the sunrise during her last morning on the water.
As she climbed up, she was grateful that she didn’t need her thick fur hood around her face, as the air was already noticeably warmer than the frozen coastlines of the Spires.
The chill of winter creeping in was still very much present, but it felt like a furnace compared to the frigidness of the mountain fjords.
She noticed Brenn watching the sky, seated at the stern with his arm propped up on his knee against a barrel. “You didn’t have to leave him, you know. I meant what I said. I came to make sure he didn’t kill you or something. I wasn’t trying to…interrupt.”
“It…that wasn’t what you think.” Caramyn breathed. “I understand why you’re cautious with Asterious. I know his father is the reason our families are dead. But he is nothing like his father was. And he would never hurt me. You must try to understand.”
“What must I understand? Your willingness to help this prince of nothing doom us all? You could run away once we make port. Think of it. You—we—could start a new life somewhere, in a place where we’re not just pieces left behind of a dying breed.
We could travel to Gahmea, where magic is not just tolerated, but revered.
” He spoke lowly, through bared teeth so as not to allow anyone but her to hear.
“But if you help get that man on the throne, what makes you think he won’t do exactly what his father did? He’ll finish off those of us left.”
Caramyn shifted uneasily. “I once considered that possibility, too,” she uttered, taming the frustration in her voice with a low growl.
“Because I, of all people, do not blindly trust. But I have seen what he has faced. What he has overcome. I have seen the way he cares for his people—even ones with magic.” She turned to look back at the hatch entrance.
“He is selfless, and he only wants to heal this land.”
“Emotions can easily tangle with our judgments. But if that’s what you wish…
I suppose that when we dock, we’ll go our separate ways.
” Brenn shook his head, his locks of cinnamon brown brushing his forehead.
He glanced around, as though checking the deck of any previously unnoticed presence.
“But if you ever decide to change your mind—or if you ever desperately need help—use this. I will come.”
He must’ve noticed her puzzled expression as he pressed a talisman on a leather string into her hand. It bore the image of a falcon with open wings. “It’s a summoner. Enchanted so that if you simply hold it completely and whisper my name into it, I’ll hear.”
“Why have you done so much to help me?’’ Caramyn was lost for words as she traced the intricate carvings in the small wooden totem with her fingers. “You hardly know me.”
“Because, like I told you before. We are one and the same.”
Caramyn had no further words, fearful of deepening the connection if she asked him anything more.
Instead, she resigned herself to watching the sky as the dark expanse of stars overhead slowly transformed into a palette of gold, white and heavenly hues of pink and lavender.
Leaning against the hull, she stared up into the place where the gods of old were said to reside, and for once she thought maybe they might’ve been real.
Veylan’s gruff voice calling out to announce their arrival tore her gaze away and back to the misty cliffs of Evylere coming into view ahead.
Brenn stood up, belongings slung across his back.
“Goodbye, Caramyn. I’ll be off this ship before you can notice I’m gone.
I'd like to avoid another interaction with your dear prince. And if it’s what you wish, you’ll never have to see me again.
” He waved at her and then gestured at the talisman in her hand. “Unless you decide to use that.”
As she studied him for what she knew might be the last time, she looked into his eyes and nodded in a way to thank him from the sincerest part of her.
Looking down at the talisman, she stood with his words still swirling around in her mind.
Asterious appeared on the deck, and she hurried to tuck the charm away in her pocket.