Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Footsteps approaching behind me catch Weston’s attention, and I glance over my shoulder to find Veck stepping onto the quarterdeck.
“You wanted to see me, Captain?”
Weston nods, then looks down, eyes sliding over the weapons sheathed in my vest and his fingers flex on my thighs.
“Be ready. I’ll be busy for a little while longer until we leave,” he grumbles.
“Come find me when you’re ready,” I say, leaning forward and pressing a kiss into his cheek, my lips barely brushing the corner of his, then pat his chest twice. “Be the captain.”
His chest rumbles, and I smile sweetly, sliding away from him until I can lift my leg over his and hop off the barrel. Sending Veck a quick wave, I shuffle down the steps back to the main deck and spot Stassia, still pacing wildly.
Very few of the crew are on deck, and Stassia is the only one who looks agitated.
I glance around, looking for Sig, hoping she can enlighten me before I walk into a Stassia tirade, but there’s no sign of her.
Sig would never miss the collection crew meetup with Mara, but after breaking the news to her last night and all the change that comes with it, I can imagine she wants some time to herself.
My approach does nothing to slow Stass. It’s as if she doesn’t even see me until I lean against the rail, watching her boots tread soapy prints through everything Taril continues to mop.
“What’s wrong, Stass?” I try to sound normal, but even I can hear the wary undertone to my question. She looks coiled and ready to strike at any moment, but does a double take when she finally notices me standing there.
“That fucking asshole!” she shrieks. Her hands stay planted on her hips as her steps pound into the wood beneath her.
Taril looks over at me with what looks like sadness or disappointment in his eyes, and I glance between them, trying to figure out if it is Taril she’s talking about, or someone else.
I know Stass is direct, but if it was Taril that made her upset this early in the morning, would she really be pacing in front of him, calling him names?
Despite being completely unprepared and far too tired to be berated by one of Stassia’s rants after such a late and emotional night, I set my shoulders and brace myself to ask.
“Who’s a fucking asshole, Stass?”
Waves of fury ripple off her as she yells across the quiet deck, and I am surprised I didn’t hear her before.
“Dane! That piece of shit just left us all here! He used it all, and just took off! Isn’t he the one who is supposed to be guarding the island? But he just abandoned it! Abandoned us! Why the fuck did the island let him do it?”
My jaw slackens, and I grip the rail tightly, trying to squeeze out the uncomfortable feeling squirming inside me.
How did she find out? Stass can be unpredictable, but after the night on deck when Weston told everyone that the dust was running out, she was more…
sad. This is a level of absolutely pissed that I’ve never seen on Stassia, and now I know why.
Taril’s focus remains on the deck and dragging the wet mop over the wood.
I watch him for a moment before looking back up at the quarterdeck.
Veck still stands before Weston, looking just as serious as Stass does.
With one arm crossed over his chest and the other holding his resting chin, he listens as Weston speaks soundlessly in the distance.
“How did you find out?” I ask. Stass spins on her heel and continues her pace toward me.
“Captain’s been meeting with each of us individually since first light.
He started with the collection crew, for obvious reasons.
” Her voice is calmer than a moment ago, but I can still sense she’s holding it all back.
“He wanted to be the one to tell us, so he’s having us send the next person up once he answers every question we have. ”
My chest squeezes as I look back toward Weston to find the mask of the strong, unbothered Captain firmly back in place, shielding his crew and taking the brunt of the damage as he always does. He wants to give them the news gently and wants it to come directly from him.
I swallow hard and turn back to Stassia.
“For whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry,” I say, my voice breaking as I try to get the apology out. “If I hadn’t tried to steal it, he might still be here.”
She points a finger at me, wagging it back and forth. “You didn’t force him to use it, Lennox. He did that on his own. Don’t think this was your fault.” She drops her hand and lets out an angry groan. “Guardian my ass!”
Last night, Weston assured me that no one in the crew would blame me for Dane’s abandonment. While I heard what he said, the guilt still eats at me, and hearing Stassia fall in line with Weston’s expectation despite her clear and potent fury, I have hope for everyone else.
“I swear to the gods,” she grunts, “If this was all a trap and the Voyagers think they’re going to get the upper hand in this meeting, they better be prepared to go to that clearing in camp, because we have nothing to lose anymore.”
She’s right. We have nothing to lose anymore. Dane took away our future, our hope, our purpose. But everyone who remains here is still people we know, we care about. They’re our friends, all of whom are being manipulated by Dane. I don’t want to hurt any of them. I want to help them see the truth.
A weight drops in my stomach as I remember wanting to fight them all on the beach the day they took me captive. I wanted to rage against Sig, and beg her to explain how someone who showed me such kindness could choose to help the enemy.
But now I understand exactly how Weston and Sig felt, exactly why they put themselves in danger to seize anyone who found the waters.
They kept the new Castaways on this ship and helped them see the truth.
All they wanted was for everyone to understand.
Surely now, if we tell them what Dane has done and said to get what he wanted, they wouldn’t hurt us.
“It’s not their fault either, Stass. Dane’s the one that should be punished.”
“And Mara for going along with everything. She tried to kill you, Lennox! Don’t even get me started on Storm trying to hunt every single one of us. Why? What did he want?”
I let out a sigh. “I don’t know, and I can’t figure Mara out, either.
Last night, she looked…broken. Her face when she held out the empty pouch is the only thing giving me hope it isn’t a trap.
It doesn’t change the way she attacked me and tried to kill Sig, but I don’t want to give up on her. Not yet.”
“Captain doesn’t trust her.”
“Weston doesn’t trust anyone,” I say. “Not when it comes to all of us.”
“Ugh, I just want to get this over with,” she says, turning on her heel again. “I don’t know how we’re going to work everything out.”
“We’ll figure out a way. It might take time.”
She huffs a laugh. “We’ve got plenty of that.”
If everything is as Mara says, and we can start to mend the relationships between the Voyagers and the Castaways today, would it actually take a long time?
Would they truly believe what we have to say about Dane?
Or would the same sort of war continue between us, keeping us isolated on the ship for fear of their retaliation?
I’m not able to think about it for long before tiny footsteps pound to my side. Fin sprints up the stairs and flies out onto the deck, spotting me immediately and running over with a wave.
“Hi Lennox!” he says with a cheerful smile. “You’re up early today. What are you doing?”
Stassia’s lips purse as she continues to pace, turning her face away from Fin so he hopefully won’t notice how angry she is.
“Just talking with Stass. Why?”
“Do you want to climb with me? Please, please, please?” he begs, puffing out his bottom lip and letting his face droop.
I glance around the deck and back up to Weston, who now has Fern on deck with him.
I don’t want to miss the call for the collection crew, but keeping Fin occupied and away from everyone as they receive the news might be the best thing until we can officially tell him.
Weston knows I am going to the meeting, and he won’t leave without me.
“Sure,” I say, “but not too high.”
Jorn’s lessons come back to me as we scramble up the mainmast and I follow Fin through the ropes and beams. Just as we reach halfway to the top, we stop and sit, looking out over the view, and Fin’s chattering starts.
He tells story after story, and I listen, trying to stifle my giggles at his enthusiasm and childish charm, and trying to determine what is embellished in the mind of a six-year-old, or what is actually true.
His mind runs wild, but when he finally gets bored with stories, we play games, spying things on the island and having staring contests. Anything to pass the time and keep him busy while I wait for the call from below.
A familiar low voice breaks our concentration, and I grip the beam beneath us as Fin looks around for its owner.
“Having fun up here?” Weston says as he pulls himself up onto the beam below us.
My breath catches in my throat as he hops to his feet and walks across it without holding onto any ropes or hooks.
I almost call out, begging him to be careful, but the way he moves with confidence and finesse makes me fall silent, reminding me he has lived on this ship for much longer than either Fin or myself.
Scaling the mast and crossing these beams is probably second nature for him.
“Lot’s of fun, mister Weston! Do you want to play a game, too?”
Weston looks at me before gripping the wood between Fin and I.
“Actually, Fin, I need to talk to you about something.” The muscle in his jaw tightens, but his eyes soften as he looks up into the boy’s face.
Fin waits eagerly, with no idea that the news Weston has to deliver isn’t exciting, and I wonder if he will ever truly understand the weight of it all. Weston doesn’t make him wait long.
“Do you remember when I told everyone the dust was almost gone? That we didn’t know if we could get more?”
Fin’s smile falters slightly, but he nods. “Uh-huh.”
“Well, we found out that it is all gone, so we all have to stay here now. Together.”
“Oh.” Fin’s voice drops along with the corners of his mouth as his brow furrows. “So I can’t see my sister or my mom or my dad again? For real this time?”
Weston nods solemnly. “Yes. For real this time.”
“That makes me sad,” Fin murmurs, and my eyes snag on his chest as he takes in a shuddering breath.
“I thought it might,” Weston says, and nods down toward the deck below. “But you have a big family here. Everyone cares about you, and we’re not going anywhere.”
Fin’s eyes sparkle with the hint of tears, but he looks at Weston hopefully. “Are you going to be like my dad?”
Weston’s throat bobs, but he doesn’t look away from Fin. Tears prick at my own eyes and I blink them away, trying not to think about the lost vision we all had for our lives.
“How about more like a big brother?” he says, and my chest aches.
Fin looks at me, then back to Weston, and his nose scrunches. “But you’re old.”
Weston’s laugh rings out around us, flowing on the wind, and I can’t help but giggle with him.
“I’m not that old,” he says with one of his rare, genuine smiles. Fin returns it.
“You’re more like a dad old,” Fin says, then turns to me. “Lennox, are you going to be my family, too?”
My chin quivers as I fight the quickly returning tears in my eyes. “Always, Fin.”
This family may not be the one that any of us envisioned.
Hell, who could envision meeting a group of strangers on a magical island and think you’d be willing to lay your life down for theirs?
But it is who we have, for all of eternity.
Even though it isn’t the life that we pictured, that doesn’t mean it isn’t good.
He nods, his shoulders still slumped slightly. “I’m still sad, but I’m happy about you.”
“We are too, kid,” Weston says and pats his leg. “I also think Roley might come around soon.”
Fin perks up at the news, his tiny body squirming on the dangerously high beam.
“Really? Can we play on the ship? Or maybe at camp? Can he have a bow too?”
Weston chuckles softly and taps the bottom of Fin’s foot. “We’ll figure all that out soon, alright?”
“Sure, mister Weston,” he says, and there’s a little brightness back in his voice.
“Let’s head back down,” Weston says, then his eyes find mine. “It’s time to go.”