Chapter Twenty-Six #4
“I have time,” Dax said. “Specifically, I have until the fifth day after the solstice. The celebration is a multiday affair at the conservatory. The first day has performances by the youngest students…” He continued to describe the multiday event to Ree, with descriptions of the decorations, and the increasingly complex music played as they led up to the final performance by those seeking grandmaster status.
“Ooh,” Ree said. If he’d had eyes, they would have been wide. “How many musicians will be trying to become grandmasters?”
“This year? Me.”
“Just you?”
“Yes,” Dax said.
Emerging from belowdecks, Rijes Velk said, “What he’s not telling you is that there is only a new grandmaster once every ten years.
It’s an exceedingly rare honor only granted to the best musicians of their time.
” She nodded at Dax. “You must perform. If I were still head of the Great Library, I would come witness it.”
Wait, Rijes wasn’t considering attending, was she?
Marin broke in. “With all due respect, you can’t stay in Alyssium.
” That would be a terrible idea. There was no guarantee that the new government wouldn’t change their mind and arrest her again.
The only way to keep her safe—and make Marin’s sacrifice not a waste—was to get Rijes as far away from here, ideally to Belde, which was essentially the south end of nowhere.
“I have no intention of staying in Alyssium a moment longer than necessary,” Rijes said.
“In fact, it would be prudent of me to remain belowdecks until we are out of the city. I only came to tell you that the family is pleased with the idea of living on the island of Belde. They too have had enough of this city life. If the greenhouse residents will allow them to stay, they would be happy to do so.”
“I can’t speak for the gardener of Belde, but we can ask,” Marin said.
“I’m due for a delivery there anyway, supplies for their Winter Feast.” She’d promised that what felt like ages ago.
And it would get her far from here and from the temptation to scoop Dax up and sail with him out through the gate and never give him up.
“Marin?” Ree bounced excitedly. “Can we go to the feast on Belde and then make it back to Alyssium in time for Dax’s concert?”
“Depends on the wind. Winter sailing can be unpredictable. There could be storms.” Also, she didn’t want to. It would hurt too much, to see Dax where he belonged, to know he had to stay there. She wanted to picture him as he was now, part of her crew.
Part of my life.
When had she let him become entwined in her daily life? She’d always known he’d have to return to the conservatory. He didn’t belong on the wild, open sea. She’d been told over and over that he had a grand future. This wasn’t a shock. It shouldn’t hurt so damn much.
“You need to come,” Dax said, alarm in his voice. “Please. It’s important.”
It was also important that she weathered this with her heart and soul intact.
She steered the boat through the canals toward the conservatory and tried to imagine her heart was wrapped in sailcloth, safe and protected. She’d adjusted to his presence; she’d adjust to his absence.
It wouldn’t have worked out anyway, she told herself.
She was the captain, and he was her crew.
The captain shouldn’t have feelings for any member of her crew that were more intense than for any other member of her crew.
The power dynamic made it inherently unfair.
Relationships needed to be between equals, or one of them would begin to resent the other—it was inevitable.
At some point, the relationship would fail.
We were always doomed. There was never meant to be a “we.” It was a dream as ephemeral as a song.
She felt a hand on her shoulder. His hand. “Marin.”
A lump clogged her throat, and she couldn’t make herself speak.
“Mariner.”
“Mmm?”
“It’s not goodbye.”
He was fooling himself if he thought that.
Yes, she could go back to making deliveries to the conservatory, and she’d see him then, but it wouldn’t be the same.
Nothing would be. Not for her and Dax. Not for her parents.
Not for the empire. At least with regard to Dax and with regard to the Crescent Islands, that was for the best. She just said, “Sure.”
“You need to come back and watch my opus,” Dax said. “When it’s over, if I succeed, when I succeed … we’ll talk about the future, and everything will be all right. But you must come back.”
We have no future. The last thing she wanted to do was see him finally accept that. They didn’t need some big, dramatic conversation. It was better to treasure the memories she had than poison them with painful ones. “Good luck,” was all she could bring herself to say.
Before it could become awkward, Marin barked orders at Ree, Perri, and Dax to help with steering the boat into the tunnel beneath the conservatory.
She kept them moving, securing the boat to the dock, packing up Dax’s belongings, and hurrying him off the deck.
They couldn’t linger, she said—it wasn’t safe for Rijes to stay in the city.
The sooner they were underway, the better.
Perri trumpeted a cascade of minor notes.
“Five days after solstice!” Dax called to them. “Come back to Alyssium! Promise me you’ll come! Marin! Come, and everything will be okay!”
As she poled away, Marin made no promises.