Chapter Six #2
Wait. What? No. Marin tried to let him down gently. “This won’t be a short or easy jaunt. I don’t know that the open ocean is any place for an inexperienced, um…” She trailed off, unsure of what noun to use.
“I’m a wax myrtle,” Ree said. “I’m a halophyte. You’re a real sailor.”
The tone of his voice pierced her gut. She was tossed back to her memory of herself, five years old, the first time that her mother had taken her on a supply run—that longing, that dream.
She’d fallen in love with sailing that day, and every time her parents went out on the boat, she’d begged them to let her come along in exactly that same kind of voice. They’d always said yes.
“He wants the ocean,” the woman explained.
Ree jumped in. “I won’t be any trouble! I’ll clean the deck. All the time. So much cleaning. And I’ll climb the mast. Oh, can I climb the mast? Please? I can climb the mast and shout, ‘Land, ho!’”
Her heart lurched again.
But she couldn’t. She’d sworn to sail alone.
Except for Perri. She hadn’t wanted to take on any other crew.
Taking on a crew meant trusting other people, and the last time she’d trusted someone who wasn’t family …
the last time she’d allowed anyone so close to her …
he’d nearly crushed her dreams and everyone she cared about.
This sailboat was her freedom, her heart, her hope.
On the other hand, this was a plant.
“I’m sure you’d be spectacularly helpful, but I don’t need a deckhand,” Marin said.
“I’m a solo sailor. Besides, Alyssium isn’t the best place to sail these days.
It’s a mess, with the revolution and all.
It’ll be a while before the city settles down.
” She watched the former statue as she spoke and saw the moment the woman blanched, which was confirmation that she had no idea of what was happening in the capital city.
To be fair, Marin didn’t know what was happening there now either.
Her parents had said the empire had fallen, but even if they were right, did that mean the violence was over?
What had the revolutionaries done now that they were in charge, if they were in charge?
Had the world changed for better or worse?
“What’s happening in Alyssium?” the woman asked, trying to sound casual and failing completely. “A revolution, you said?”
“You haven’t heard?” She thought that was what someone who didn’t know the woman had been a statue would say.
“The seagulls don’t gossip much, and we don’t get many other visitors.”
Marin laughed again. I like her. She was obviously not a criminal mastermind, but she was clever.
The longer Marin spent with her, the better she understood why Rijes had wanted to save her.
Being transformed into a statue was an incredibly harsh punishment for someone with the personality of a jovial puppy.
“Fair enough,” Marin said. “The short version is the revolutionaries finally overthrew the emperor—like, literally, they threw him out a window—and the empire has pretty much fallen. It’s been brewing for some time.
You must have known that?” She could have known that, Marin supposed, depending on when the librarian had been statue-ified.
It had been brewing for years, ever since the emperor decided to hoard magic.
“I’ve been busy.”
That was a beautiful euphemism. Marin resisted a grin.
“Well, the long and short of it is that Alyssium is in chaos.” Probably.
Or it was two weeks ago. She thought that was likely a true statement.
“And there’s no more Crescent Islands Empire.
It’s just the Crescent Islands now.” Also probably.
And less likely. She wondered if she should admit she didn’t have any actual recent news, aside from her parents’ second- or thirdhand report.
A lot could have changed since she’d fled the capital.
And a lot could have changed since her parents got their news too.
For all any of them knew, the imperials could have reasserted themselves and claimed control again, but wouldn’t they have to un-murder the emperor to do that?
She wished she knew what was going on in Alyssium—and why this woman was so anxious to get a letter there when she’d barely escaped it.
“You’re sure the gardener is okay? He hasn’t ever sent a letter to anyone before. ”
“He’s well, but it’s important his family receives it quickly, if it’s at all possible to sail there.”
Every indication said she was innocent and trustworthy, but Marin had learned not to trust her own instincts.
It was far better to be safe than to take any action that could endanger her family.
On the other hand … she’d stayed away from Alyssium long enough, hadn’t she?
If she traveled back, she could tell Rijes Velk that her gambit had worked.
And check on Dax. And see if the empire really had fallen or not and what it meant for people like her and her parents.
Wait, am I really considering this?
Yes, I am.
Marin shrugged. “If it’s important, I can manage it.”
“I can help,” Ree pleaded. “I eat danger for breakfast.”
“You eat breakfast?” Marin asked.
“I only eat danger.”
“That’s hilarious and adorable, but the answer is still no.
” She couldn’t bring the plant into a potentially dangerous situation.
Could she bring herself? And Perri? I can’t avoid the capital forever.
At some point she was going to have to resume runs there, and wouldn’t it be better to know what was going on?
It was just a side benefit that she’d be able to check on Dax.
Certainly that wasn’t the primary reason to return. She had plenty of completely reasonable reasons that had nothing to do with one sea-serpent-loving, bright-eyed man. “I’ll deliver the letter as quickly and safely as I can,” Marin promised before she could reconsider. “You’ve got my payment?”
The woman held out a pouch. “Will this cover taking a letter to Alyssium, as well as taking on and training a new crewmate?” She gestured toward Ree.
With leaves quivering, Ree whimpered, “Please?”