Chapter 37
Tidal Wave
Everything I experienced during the first day aboard the Shadowtide flew by in a rushed blur.
Luckily, everyone had made it aboard in time before we departed. Corra told me Talissa had cut it close, though.
First I’d been tasked with tying the knots for some of the Arc’s rigging, to secure our sails where they needed to be for our course to Raevar.
Zevrial had been wise to give us extensive weight training.
Out in the open, the wind tore at your limbs like it wanted to separate them from your body.
It was still attempting to split the hair from my scalp.
Turns out watch rotations had been decided before we boarded by our captain, one Brialla Laurent from Zevrial’s graduating year. We each had four hour shifts for standing watch with a partner, and there were enough of us that my next shift wasn’t for another four days.
While I’d been on watch, I’d met my shift partner, a young man named Felixion.
He was built of sheer bulk, and carried an untroubled demeanor and attitude.
After being rotated onto the Shadowtide’s crew from another Arc, he tolerated the inconvenience of being forced to work with this year’s graduates, or ‘guppies’ as he liked to call us, with dry wit and wisecracks.
Stolid, he was a steady presence while we’d stood in comfortable silence facing opposite directions from the crow’s nest watching the waves.
The oscillating movement of the Arc was especially pronounced from high up.
Fortunately, Felixion was charitable enough to show me the ropes. He showed me how to keep steady by turning my body so that the Arc’s movement pulled me sideways instead of forward and back, how to focus my spyglass, and the lyrics to even filthier sea shanties than the ones I knew.
The shapes under and above the miasma were so strange I never would have dreamed them possible. Some were beautiful. Otherworldly glowing colored wisps had risen above the miasma after dawn, like a mirage of rainbow fog drifting upwards.
But others had been terrifying. A grotesque wrinkled blob of darkness had appeared on the horizon, floating above the miasma. It was too distant to tell exactly what it was, but we’d steered clear of it.
Mesmoria had become fuzzy in the distance, then reduced down to a shrunken swell, a mere blip before it vanished completely.
The separation from the mainland finally quieted the incessant ghost of Nikolach.
Until now, I hadn’t understood how much he haunted me, even knowing he was beaten, bruised, and bloody.
Hanging onto my fear of him was like dragging around my own coffin behind me.
Some intangible muscle gripped tightly inside me unclenched. He couldn’t hurt me here.
After my watch ended, I’d been assigned to galley duty, which was also rotated among everyone aboard.
I was grateful Mama was in Scullery service, as preparing food was an entirely foreign concept to Pasha, who had been partnered with me for it.
Together though, we were able to put together enough rice and vegetables to feed everyone.
Sunset was two hours ago, but I didn’t want to sleep yet. I wandered onto the main deck, tucking my shorn scarf around my neck.
“—finally back from suspension on operations again and your first move is to request an Apostate take the room next to yours? And you’re planning to keep going with this madness?
” Veridiana’s voice carried on the breeze to me, despite being on the other end of the Arc and speaking softly.
I slowed my steps, turning to face outward toward the miasma.
“How do you think the Ascendancy will react?”
I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but my curiosity had sprung to life at hearing what sounded like a private conversation.
“I don’t fucking care how they’ll react,” Zevrial’s low voice answered.
At night, the miasma looked phantasmal, a dull sheen under the moonlight. The ominous shadows beneath it were almost invisible. I couldn’t see Zevrial or Veridiana in the darkness, but I strained, focusing on Perception and listening for their voices.
“You’ve already caught their notice. If you’re not careful, they’ll do more than suspend you next time.” Veridiana spoke again.
“They can’t afford to kill me. I’m the best weapon they’ve got.”
Well isn’t someone overconfident.
“You’re disposable,” Veridiana argued. “We all are. If you think they won’t just ink up the next Voyager the same way they did to you, for some trumped up heroics, and reassign their Arc to replace you–”
“Quiet,” Zevrial said, noticing my presence. “I’ll keep my head low but I’m not backing down. Get back to your station.”
“Just–”
“Get back to your fucking station.”
Veridiana pivoted, heading for the stairs to the lower deck. She cast an askance glance my way when she passed me.
Zevrial took his time stalking over to me on light feet.
With only the night sky above him, shadows molded themselves into the shape of a man.
The dark outline of his profile contrasted with his face, casting planes in sharp moonlit relief.
I leaned against the railing, acting perfectly casual. “How much did you overhear?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Enough.”
He leaned up against the railing, so close the heat of his skin warmed me. A minute crawled by.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” I asked.
“Not here,” Zevrial tipped his chin toward the lower deck. “We’ll talk in my cabin.”
“Okay,” His arm slid around my shoulder and I fell into step beside him as we went toward the stairs. The warmth of his hand seeped into me, shielding me against the night’s chill.
With the fall of evening, his cabin had taken on an anomalistic, alluring life.
Whereas in daylight, it had been friendly, cozy even, at night secrets crowded every corner.
Moon and star light cut a pale swatch through the darkness, but the feeling of being surrounded in a confined space full of mystery overruled any other ambiance the cabin might’ve once had.
Or maybe I was just reading too much into what I’d overheard.
He closed the door behind us, resting back against it before moving to light an oil lamp.
Moving about the room, I picked up a book on the constellations from his desk and leafed through it. Rushing an explanation on something that sounded personal would make it harder to tell. Patience was a virtue I didn’t possess, but I could at least afford him a few minutes to gather his thoughts.
“You already know the miasma’s rising,” he stepped away from the door and took a seat on his bed.
It had to be an intentional position, sitting as far away from me in the room as he could.
His body made the bed seem to shrink in size.
“The Ascendancy thinks I know too much. I’ve been documenting all the runes and Skinscript on the island, trying to gather information, to make a plan.
I got caught trespassing in a Prelate’s office, looking for a book on one of the rarer glyphs.
The Ascendancy suspended me from all outer isle operations until this year’s graduation. ”
“I could’ve earned enough brawling to survive, or doing perimeter patrol work.
But working as an instructor was the only place with more information on Skinscript, so I took the position at the outpost. You saw me at Docksiders the day after I got suspended,” he gave me a fierce grin. “I needed to vent some frustration.”
When women shared their feelings, they did it with heartfelt words and a tender touch.
Men pretended they were above weaknesses like petty emotion, trying to appear invulnerable for as long as possible.
When no longer possible, they shared their feelings with harsh words and even harder violence. Lots of violence.
“Becoming an Instructor has been rewarding in more ways than I anticipated. The suspension pricked my pride, but I slipped up. Getting caught was my fault. Ultimately, I’m glad I got suspended.” His gaze raked over me.
I set the book down on his desk, suddenly flushed. “Why are you documenting runes and Skinscript?”
His gaze shifted far away. “The runes have a similar style and structure as Skinscript, but none of them work as glyphs. They were all over that cliff when our shared Skinscript appeared. Yet they’re all over the island, carved into rock, and no one knows or remembers why.
Or who created them. At least, no one is sharing what they know about them.
The runes and Skinscript have to be related, somehow.
I’m searching for one specific Skinscript, and right now all of the glyphs aren’t documented in any unified place.
There’re books on Skinscript, but most of them are restricted access so only those in the Ascendancy can read them.
And none of them have information about every glyph, only a few per book. And they’re full of gaps.”
“So the Skinscript you were caught trespassing to find information about…”
“It was a Skinscript forbidden by the Ascendancy. Unfortunately it wasn’t the one I was looking for. But it was a glyph they don’t want anyone to know exists.”
I was already in too deep, and curiosity won against better judgement. “What was it?”
His smile was all savage triumph. “Truth. It prevents others from lying.”
Bet he’s already inked it onto himself.
I didn’t want to ask my next question, it felt too personal.
We both know what this is.
If there was going to be any chance for something between us, I needed to know what information he wasn’t volunteering. Not just the fragments he decided to share.
“What glyph are you searching for?”
His stare hardened. “Seek.”
“And what are you seeking?”