Chapter 18 Into the Sheets #2
I remembered it vividly from Flogger’s Bay—the three-taloned scar and the milky white eye.
“Honestly, Ensign Blue,” said Worley. “Marque or not, the king has a terrible hate of our captain. Any ship in the Navy would be well served by sinking the Touchstone. It would be agreeably regarded in High Temple and at the Admiralty Office, even with the young prince on board. I’m not entirely certain how we have survived so long in one piece. ”
“What about the Endorathil’s captain? What was his name again?”
“Kinrath Ilvalour.”
I shook my head. Like poetry. Like bloody, beautiful poetry.
“The captain sometimes forgets I am his steward,” Worley went on. “He reminisces with the first mate over days gone by. I heard him say…”
He paused, looked around again. I leaned closer.
“I heard him say that Kinrath Ilvalour was the emissary of the Rhi’Ahr Impirius himself, once upon a time. That he was on the Cloudgate when the RuneTree was felled. I never know if it’s the truth or not. We all remember histories so differently.”
One Priestlord that made vengeance his purpose and set his bones to wreak havoc on both royal houses.
Was that, in fact, our commission, then?
With chimeric in their arsenal and a failing Dreadwall, the Rhi’Ahr had carried this war to Oversea with precise, ruthless, and thorough attacks.
And the Emperial Navy had been unsuccessful at fighting back.
But the Touchstone was different. Other than the Endorathil, the Rhi’Ahr ran from us rather than engage, while the Navy chased us rather than joined.
It made no sense, especially with a Letter of Marque.
Then again, maybe Smoke was right. “Wreaking havoc on both royal houses” was a dangerous game. One swift away from treason, one ship a-lee from outright war.
“Well,” he said, wiping the rain from his forehead and nodding quickly.
“I’d best get back. I was just sending a bird to notify the Admiralty Office of our situation, but it’s almost time for the captain’s wine.
He does drink so. I tell him it’s no good for his liver, but to be completely honest, I don’t know if Rhi’Ahr have livers, so you see my dilemma. ”
And with that, he was gone, disappearing back into the hatch with his birds.
My eyes slid past the hatch, now, and along the quarterdeck to the pup.
Still there, still watching.
I sighed. I was tired—exhausted, in fact—but there was no way on erthe I could sleep. So I tossed back the last of the rum, hooked the cup to my sash, and reached down to pat the rail.
“I’ll check on him for you,” I said to the ship. I could have sworn the canvas thundered a little louder over my head.
I wove through the night crew, the watchstanders, and the spinners, and made my way to the quarterdeck, then the pup. Normally, I’d never set foot on the pup uninvited, but I had been invited many times, so I reckoned I was due.
The winds howled, and the deck pitched under my boots.
The captain stood facing the waters, feet braced, arms folded across his chest. He was drenched to the bones, and his hair was slick against his skull, his elven ears clearly visible now.
I looked away to the sea behind us. I didn’t need to see him.
I felt him. I felt every beat of his heart.
We were runechasers both. The chimeric that burned across my very skin called to him in the same way his magik called to me.
But was it only rune and the chasing of it that forged this bond?
Would rune lead to ruin, the hollow ache of a hole not filled, the endless burn of a prize not claimed?
Suns. Why couldn’t I have just tumbled Fahr and been satisfied?
I sighed and stared out over the waters. It was difficult to see the Endorathil on our tail, if it weren’t for the regular flash of cannon fire from her chase guns.
“How did she survive?” I asked.
“I have no idea,” he grunted. “Ilvalour is the bane of my sorry life.”
The Endorathil flashed again, but I steeled my nerve, defying everything that warned me of the dangers at our stern.
And the one standing beside me as well.
“He wants me hanged and the Touchstone sunk to the depths of the Old Sand. All the ships in all the seas wish her sunk.”
He slid his sea-dark eyes to look at me now, a bemused smile playing with his mouth.
“But she likes you.”
“Against your ardent council,” I said, echoing his words from so long ago.
He arched a brow.
“She has her own mind, as you well know,” he said. “Still, I regret that you have been dragged into this.”
“I’m not,” I said. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“Everything?”
“I’m serious.”
“You are a very unusual woman,” he said.
“Still too proud for the Ship of Spells?”
“Hah.”
But he grinned again, and I was glad to have caused it.
Another flash. Another cannon. Another pointless discharge of valuable powder.
“Well, I hope you do not die in this endeavor,” he said. “You have an indomitable spirit.”
“I’m just stubborn,” I said.
“That is a good thing,” he said. “You fight for what you want.”
“I will and I do,” I said. “But sometimes I run.”
“Also wise.”
Be wary. Be wise.
The cannons flashed again.
The Touchstone called him Beloved.
The pup pitched, and I bumped into his arm as I steadied my feet. He didn’t move away. In fact, I almost thought he moved in. The sea did that to people. Physical contact was an anchor, a mate’s touch the kedge that we sometimes needed.
But he was not one of us. He was Rhi’Ahr.
Did they want the same things we Overlanders did?
Did they need a hand to tide them through the storms or a willing body to prove that they weren’t alone?
Suns knew I did. In fact, I was surprised I hadn’t made an offer already.
Then again, maybe the Touchstone would try to kill me.
I told Fahr she wouldn’t, but I didn’t know that for sure.
A storm is wind and starlight changing places with the sea
My skin was burning because of his nearness, the chimeric scars lighting up the stormy skies. After a moment, I noticed he had been studying me from the corner of his eye this whole time, and I swallowed my heart. I looked up at him.
“What do you want?”
“Me?” He was clearly surprised to have been asked.
“Yes. You.” I smiled at him. A half smile, really, tugging into one cheek. Just in case. “What does the captain of the Ship of Spells want?”
He looked away.
“I am not allowed to want,” he said. “Not when I have a duty to fulfill.”
“But if you could…”
He glanced back, his eyes weighing me in their fathomless depths.
They really were a remarkable color, the ocean blue and the deep-sea green, the flecks of violet and the rivers of gold.
I could almost see the history in them, the battles and the loss, the power and the strife.
Yes, I could fall into those depths easily.
I would tumble him for days and maybe not run.
But my heart thudded as those eyes flicked to my lips, lingered as if memorizing the contours of my mouth…
Be wary. Be wise.
Sometimes I fight.
Thanavar is a man running out of time…
Sometimes I run.
That makes him desperate.
But I wasn’t running now.
He released a breath and looked away. Suns, I couldn’t read this man.
“Rest,” he said finally. “I dearly wish to rest. Rest from my wretched life of service to both ungrateful helms. I wish to discharge my commission rightly, release this magnificent ship from the curse she has endured, and right the wrongs that I have committed over the years. My time is running out, and I fear I will not succeed in any of these…”
He shrugged.
“So, I drink.”
I felt that. I’d lived that.
“Your Auctorus Circulaia was like nothing I’ve ever seen.” He deftly changed the subject. They were skilled at that.
“Leaning into the wylde, like you said.” I shrugged. “And learning to wield chimeric like a Rhi’Ahr.”
“You are,” he said. “It is unfathomable.”
“It really is,” I said, lifting my chin. “So, let me help you more. The Touchstone wants me to help. You’d be a fool to waste this resource.”
“Resource?” He grunted again. “Moons, you do sound Rhi’Ahr.”
“I have to find my place in the Worldrune,” I said. “Maybe it’s here, seeing what it means to serve the Ship of Spells.”
“The course I have charted does not end in life.” His words rolled through the stillness like distant thunder.
“You’re the captain of a living ship,” I said. “Chart a new course.”
He steeled his jaw and turned his head swiftly back to the sea.
“You will hate me by the end.”
“Well, I hated you in the beginning,” I said.
His lips twitched, but I got the feeling that he wasn’t hearing me. I could almost see the runes spinning behind his eyes. Thoughts and plans, history and politics, weaving the tides and pulling the strings.
“Resource?” he said again, arching a brow as he looked back at me.
“You’re no fool,” I said. “In fact, you may be the shrewdest man I’ve ever known.”
He blinked slowly.
“Thank you, Aro’el,” he said. “I will think on it.”
Aro’el. I felt the warmth rush through my body. Aro’el.
My new, true name.
“Dream sweet,” he said.
“When the moons meet,” I said.
And he turned away, disappearing down the steps to the quarterdeck below.
I stood on the pup a while longer, arms wrapped around my ribs, wishing for a glimpse of the stars.
Ahead of us was black clouds, rough seas, and lightning.
Behind us was sickly fog, a vengeful ship, and an enemy bent on sinking us hard.
But I feared the war inside me was just beginning.