Chapter 8 #2
He pops his head back through the threshold. His hair is still up high on his head, and the wily blue tendrils that have escaped catch the light. “Something wrong, Odi?”
I swallow once. Twice. Pretend the purr in his voice doesn’t affect me in the least. “What do you expect me to do? On the ship?”
Confusion flits over his face, then the grin returns full force. “I suppose you could find a mop.”
I do look. I do. But besides the mop in the careful employ of a moonlight-skinned human man, there doesn’t seem to be any.
Half the hammocks in the sleeping quarters have been unhooked and traded for crate tables and barrel chairs, apparently in preparation for lunch.
A few of the night crew sleep around the edges, oblivious to the commotion.
Their weapons are sheathed under their heads or cradled to their chests, some are in full belt and dress, ready at a moment’s notice.
It’s the first time I notice they’re all dressed well.
Each of them wears neat clothes, like they change.
And wash. Their hair may be unruly, but it’s trimmed well enough.
Some of the men even appear to keep up with shaving.
Maybe state of dress is a point of pride for Rune.
Every captain has their own way of showing they’ve got things under control.
But how much does he pay them that they’re able to maintain it?
I startle as my gaze catches on a man watching me—the one who didn’t take kindly to my interruption of him and Rune.
Reid. He’s brawny, with tan hair and a permanent sunburn on his nose and cheeks.
I try to breeze past him on my way to the line that’s forming out the galley, but at the last moment he steps in my way, gets close enough that I could sink a dagger into his spleen without overreaching.
“Now don’t go thinking that because you’re whoring for the captain you’re absolved. It’s his ship, but he can’t run it on his own. He’s only one man.”
I keep my voice soft, my fingers twitching for weapons that aren’t there. “And yet, here you are, threatening me instead of making use of those massive gonads in a more productive way. Unless you wanted me to tell him you’ve threatened mutiny in your stead?”
Reid’s face goes impossibly redder. “We all know you’ll turn the moment you get the chance.”
I step into his space, closing the scant distance between us. His beard brushes my cheek as I whisper in his ear. “It sounds like we have that in common.”
He explodes away from me, shoving his grubby arms into my chest to force me back. Everyone in the room stills, but none move towards us. The thirst for violence in the air makes me grin. This, I know how to handle.
He’s taller, but older. Slower. Assuming he’s been sailing long, his hands will be the most dangerous.
If he gets a solid grip on me I won’t be able to break it.
Luckily, these clothes are loose, and he’s already moving for the dagger at his belt.
If he draws it, he may as well tie a ribbon on it and pass it over.
“Reid.” Soraya’s voice makes the entire room flinch.
“The captain already told you to let it go.” She pads down the steps and comes up beside me with all the grace of a noblewoman.
“Your approval is not, and will not, be needed. If you’ve a problem with the captain’s choices, you can get off at the next dock.
No one is insisting you stay, believe me. ”
A few chuckles from the onlookers has Reid’s hand reaching for his weapon again.
“Ah ah, look at me, Reid. Look at me.”
There’s something about her voice that all but compels me to turn her way, to watch the deathly serious look on her face.
“You will leave the galley now. Your weapon will stay in its sheath. She’d only take it from you anyways.”
The room is still, silent, except the cheery sounds of Otto clanging dishes beyond the galley doors.
Reid’s jaw flicks as he grinds his teeth, weighing his options. He spits. “To the sea with all of ya.” Then he stalks past, the scuff of his boots loud on the steps.
Soraya pulls me to a crate table, clutching one of my hands with both of hers. “Are you okay?”
“Never better,” I say warily. I want to admit I admire her ferocity. She’d commanded the room without a single weapon in hand. Even now, as the room begins to mill about, others watch her with amusement or curiosity. They like her. But I find it hard to say anything at all.
There’s so much concern in her eyes I can’t help but feel awkward about its misplacement.
The night is clear.
Despite my distaste for the water, there’s something about the way it reflects the stars. Where The Gilded Hart glides, the sky ripples, as if we sail on an ocean of light instead of vast, untamed darkness.
Soraya strums a lute and sings on the starboard bow.
A few of the more adventurous crew members dance, while Bear passes around some sweet concoction he insisted we finish off, since the fruit was spoiling.
I haven’t seen Rune, but I haven’t seen much of anyone, having taken up a perch on the bones of the foremast.
From above, it’s easier to see how the crew forms into little cliques.
Reid stays to one side, only approached by a few others, and always briefly.
Soraya commands a fair amount of attention.
Bear sits beside her as she sings something hauntingly beautiful, occasionally joining in harmony.
Tavi and Elio are tucked in a half-shadow.
They don’t look at each other, but their pinkies are covertly entwined on the deck floor between them.
Maybe the fae isn’t all hard edges after all.
The drink flows, like everyone is eager to have a good time before we face the first island.
I don’t blame them. Most have volunteered to join us on the first island, and as much as I want to believe I know what to expect, the riddle may not be as straightforward as it seems. At the very least, we’ll face creatures none too happy to have us invading their home.
I can’t help but think it would be easier if I went alone.
In and out. But Captain Rune would never allow it, and I can’t risk them leaving me if they change their minds.
A couple hours later, my legs and hands are numb from hanging on the ropes, and a fight breaks out on deck—a man hunches over, holding a bloody nose, while a woman advances on him again, shoving him onto his ass.
Rune’s voice comes from above and to the right. “That’s it! Time to pack it in! If you’re not on the night crew, your hammocks are waiting!”
How had I not realised he was up here? The groans from below make me laugh softly, and that’s when I spot him, on the upper frame, sitting how I am now. It’s dark, but I swear I see him smile back before the expression is smoothed away.
Nearly everyone is tucked below by the time I climb down.
Maybe I can find a corner, or ask Bear if I can sleep in the galley.
With the quail. Either way, I wouldn’t get much sleep without at least a knife in my hand.
I wouldn’t put it past Reid or any of those who agree with him to try and get rid of their little pirate problem while I sleep.
A few of the night crew watch as I hesitate, but a solid weight lands behind me, and their attention turns to Rune.
“You’re going the wrong way,” he says.
My stomach swirls with anticipation, but I’m not sure which kind. “Where should I be going?”
He jerks his chin towards the steps to his room. I can feel more eyes fall on us as we move, but Rune either doesn’t notice or doesn’t acknowledge their curiosity.
I follow, already uncomfortable with the amount of eyes watching, and force my tone into lightness. “The noble bounty hunter wants to share a room with the wet dog?”
His keys clink as he wiggles one into the lock.
I reach for my necklace but smooth my hand back down, another pang going through me as I remember that it isn’t there.
“I’ve had to deal with worse,” he says, and pushes the door open, gesturing for me to go in first. When it's closed behind him, he speaks again. “Soraya said you and Reid had a chat.”
The bed is unruffled, like he smoothed the proof of my presence away. His desk is neater now, the correspondence conspicuously missing. I don’t bother overexplaining what happened. “Seems I’ve got a fan club.”
Unceremoniously, he drags the giant chair in front of the door, the sound of wood on wood likely clear on the far side of the ship.
A folded blanket already lays draped over the back.
“You and I both.” He flashes a grin. “I’d love to say I trust everyone aboard, but I can’t risk losing access to the riddles.
So the two of you will have to wait a while before taking turns stabbing each other in your sleep. ”
The jab doesn’t land, and even though I know I should be wary—in the night, in the flickering lamp light, everything about him seems softer.
His eyes trace over my face. He can’t know how raw it makes me feel.
How intimate it is, after so long hiding beneath my hood. Despite my fame, few knew my face.
Instead of taking the chair or moving to the bed, he steps towards me, and a traitorous thrill races to my chest. The room is already filled with the scent of him—citrus and salt—and it’s all I can do to lift my chin to look up as he gets closer, rather than let my attention fall away.
It’s less how he looks, and more his presence.
The intentional, almost predatory way he stalks towards me shorts out any train of reasonable thought, making the animal in me rear her head.
“You’ll take the bed,” he says, reaching past me to pull down the sheets.
“I—” I turn to assess the spot, as if I’ll find reason to argue with him.
Click.
The reality of the situation crashes in, and I close my eyes against the useless flush of . . . frustration? Disappointment? In myself, mostly, for not anticipating the outcome.