Chapter 30 #2
She crossed the room to the cabinets on the other side, stepping over the piles of clothes they’d left in their haste to feel each other.
The next cabinet did not squeak, but Nia gasped when she saw what lay within.
Tucked amongst a bundle of blankets was a tin bucket, full to the brim with brass keys.
What did Zanta need with all these keys?
Why were there so many? Nia picked one off the top of the pile, turning it over in the dull light.
Was Zanta searching for a key to open the chest?
But they were the wrong size. Nothing like the tiny silver key Nia kept around her waist. The key to her freedom.
Behind her, Zanta moaned. A low, pained sound, and Nia almost dropped the key. But when she looked, Zanta was still asleep, a frown on her face.
Was she having a nightmare? Nia replaced the key, careful not to make a sound, and moved on to the next cabinet.
And the next.
And the next.
Nothing. How could there be nothing?
Nia sat back on her heels, dumbfounded. Her heart clenched. It had to be here; this was the only place it could be. The only place close enough, safe enough…
Was there a secret compartment below the floorboards? No, she’d searched the room beneath this and didn’t think there’d be space for a compartment deep enough for the chest.
Nia stood, her eyes roaming the room, searching for another place large enough. It was iron, and heavy; it would not be hidden anywhere high up.
On the bed, Zanta moaned again, her head turning fitfully on the pillow. But she still did not wake.
The bed. It was low, but built into the structure of the room so that one long side rested beneath the windows, the other enclosed by carved panels in the Yarenen style, all arabesque and geometry.
If the floor below was hollow, it would be enough to accommodate the chest beneath.
Nia’s breath caught. Why had she not seen it sooner?
All she’d done was waste time looking in the obvious places.
She hurried over to the bed, almost tripping on her discarded dress.
She knelt by the bedside, breath shallow, almost face-to-face with Zanta.
If she leaned forward a little, she would be able to kiss Zanta’s fingers.
Instead, she felt around the edges of the panel, searching for a catch or gap. Her fingertips met the barest sliver of a hidden metal hinge.
Nia’s heart leapt. It was here. It had to be. She searched the other side of the panel and found a catch. The panel popped open.
Silently, carefully, she peered into the space beneath the bed. Two chests lay in the dark. One wooden, no doubt the Monsoon’s coffers. And the other…
Nia’s heart fluttered, and she reached out, her fingertips meeting the familiar iron filigree.
A heartbeat aside from her own thrummed through her. The rhythm and life of the seas, of her people. Calling to her. Bidding her to come home. Tears pricked behind Nia’s eyes, and she had to fight down the urge to drag the chest from its hiding place and immediately abscond with it.
Was the pelt within the chest whole? Or was the square that had been cut to keep her from escaping still separate from it?
Zanta’s fingers twitched, only inches from her face, and Nia flinched.
She forced herself to think rationally. She’d have to drag the chest out to open the lid, which would inevitably wake up Zanta.
And what if the pelt wasn’t whole? She’d still be stuck on this ship, and Zanta would know her secret.
Zanta whimpered, and Nia forced her hand away from the iron chest. Tears streaked down Zanta’s beautiful face, dark eyelashes damp. Her breath was no longer even, but came in hitching pants.
“Please…” Her voice was desperate, her body wracked with the throes of her nightmare. Sweat prickling her skin. “Don’t…”
Nia’s heart skipped several beats. What was she dreaming of that distressed her so?
She looked back to the chest. Her treasure. Her freedom. She should take it and flee. When would she ever get a chance like this again?
“Don’t…” Nia knew that Zanta’s pleading word was not directed at her, but it struck her all the same. Her heart clenched, and before she could think about what she was doing, she eased the secret panel closed and climbed back onto the bed.
“Zanta.” She kept her voice gentle, so as to not startle her. She cupped Zanta’s cheek, intending to wipe her tears, but Zanta thrashed and knocked her hand away.
“Zanta,” Nia repeated more firmly. “Wake up.” She shook Zanta’s shoulder, touch still gentle despite her growing concern.
Zanta inhaled sharply, body shuddering, eyes moving back and forth frantically beneath her lids.
“Wake up. You’re safe. You’re—”
Zanta woke with a gasp, eyes wild. For a moment it seemed she didn’t know where she was and fought against Nia’s hold.
“It’s okay. You’re safe.”
Brown eyes lit on Nia, widening in recognition. Her struggles abated, but her breath still came in short, terrified gasps. She grabbed Nia’s hand in both of hers and held it to her chest. Nia felt her heartbeat against her sternum, as frantic as a bird fighting a storm.
They just stared at each other for a few moments, until slowly, Zanta’s breathing began to ease, and the tight grip on Nia’s hand loosened.
“You were having a nightmare,” Nia soothed. “It’s over now. I’m here.” She raised their clasped hands to kiss the back of Zanta’s fingers. Zanta still said nothing, just closed her tearful eyes and took a few deep, steadying breaths.
When she opened them again, their gentle depths held a sorrow not dulled by time. “Thank you.”
Nia kissed her fingers again and brought their clasped hands to her own heart. “What were you dreaming about?”