Chapter 10
WHAT IS WITH YOU AND EATING THINGS
ODELIA
The shadow of the island is large on the horizon by the time the sun joins us. I hadn’t slept, but adrenaline has me bouncing on my toes, impatient to see what waits. We’re tucked away in the galley, which is thick with the scent of breakfast, the door closed until Bear is ready for the crew.
“Would you sit? You’re making me nervous.
” Rune’s eyes glint from where he sits at the bolted table, and I offer a look that says good, be nervous.
He’s wearing long sleeves today, but seems relaxed; the top buttons of his shirt hang open and his sleeves are rolled, offering peeks of those shimmering tattoos.
I don’t look. We haven’t spoken about last night, but I can’t help wondering if the casual dress is a subtle play—like he wants to project confidence to a nervous crew.
Show our would-be attacker he isn’t concerned.
Or he truly doesn’t believe me.
He watches me for longer than necessary, and a flare of heat crawls up my neck, spurred by the memory of being pulled into his lap, pressed so close I could feel his warmth on my lips.
It’s a useless train of thought, so I look away.
Try hard not to remember the strength of his grip or the power so inherent I’d nearly let myself get swept in its current.
It doesn’t matter that every neuron in my body had lit on fire, wrapped in the scent of salt and oranges.
It doesn’t matter that his desire betrayed him, or that it fueled my own, unearthing something long dormant.
I can’t trust him. Can’t afford to be distracted, even if I can still feel the phantom trace of his lingering attention.
I hadn’t been touched like that in years, having quickly realised I couldn’t afford that sort of vulnerability.
Still, this reaction, and my curiosity, will fade. We’d both been surprised, is all.
Tavi presses forwards, speaking over the sizzle of whatever Bear has decided to make for breakfast. “I’ve gone through every map on this ship. This island isn’t on any of them.”
Rune shrugs, finally turning away from me. “Maybe it’s so small cartographers don’t bother with it.”
Elio’s voice is grim as he leans one hip against the table, bowl ready in hand. “Maybe they’re so monster infested no one has cared to see if they’re still there.”
Both are equally likely. Most of the uninhabited islands are overrun with creatures best left unbothered. With the growth of the mainland and trade routes to the large islands already established, there’s no reason to risk it, unless you’re avoiding the law.
Bear brings a few plates over and I take the opportunity to help, grabbing the food left on the counter, pausing for only a breath to slip a paring knife up my sleeve.
No one seems to notice, instead they smile and offer their thanks to Otto as he and I pass everything around—oats, rehydrated fruit, and quail eggs.
He chatters as he goes. “If there’s monsters, maybe we’ll get some components.
It’s been a while since we’ve been able to experiment. ”
Rune nods. “It won’t be a priority, but if we can gather anything and bring it back, we will.”
Bear lifts a bony arm to scratch at his shaggy brown hair. “I’d rather go. You never know what’ll be useful. And I’ve already prepared food for those that stay on the ship.”
There’s a short silence, in which Elio watches for Tavi’s reaction, and Tavi watches Rune.
Rune’s voice is uncharacteristically soft. “If you’re sure.”
Bear’s smile stretches wide, even though it’s clear by Tavi’s shuttered expression that I’m not the only one who thinks it’s a terrible idea to bring him along.
“We’ll land by noon,” I say, as Bear moves back to the stove. “All that’s left is to solve the riddle.”
All eyes move to me.
“The one you ate.” Elio’s face is deadpan, but one side of Rune’s mouth ticks up.
I cross my arms, lean against the wall, and sigh. “The one I ate, yes. To ensure no one gets any bright ideas about stranding me or using me as the ship’s figurehead.”
Tavi shakes her head. “That’s horrid.”
“No, no, she makes a good point,” Rune says smirking in a way that doesn’t flip my stomach like a beached fish.
She ignores him and stands, though she’s hardly eaten. “Alright. Well I’ll get us there. You all have fun with the riddles.”
Elio watches the door close behind her. “You know she’s worried,” he murmurs.
Rune drums his thumb against the table, then crams another orange slice into his mouth. “He’s earned the right to choose.”
My attention flicks to Bear. It was the same answer Rune had given me when I’d questioned his position on the crew. The kid catches my eye and smiles, tugging at his high shirt collar. The heat must make it uncomfortable.
“Bout time for the crew to line up,” he calls. The entire counter is covered in plates now.
Rune stands and sets his empty dish in a wash crate to the side. “Thanks for breakfast, Otto. Make sure you’re ready by noon.”
Bear nods. “Yes, Captain. Prop the door for me?”
I wait for Rune to put the stopper on the door, then follow him past the line of crew members stretching down the length of the already-transformed sleeping quarters. Every eye catches on us as we pass, but I keep my back straight. At least one of them tried to break into our room last night—
Well, not our room—
Rune takes the steep steps two at a time and all at once sunlight blasts my retinas.
“Slow down!”
He turns like I’ve surprised him, nearly catching me with an elbow. “Can’t stand to be away for a moment, can you?”
I give that comment the look it deserves. “I need to see the map.”
His brows lift as he reaches into his pocket. “It’s all yours, little doe.”
I ignore the nickname in favor of the parchment in his hand, but just as my fingers brush it, he hoists it up, extending his arm up over his head, far, far out of my reach.
I squint against the blinding sky that silhouettes the chiseled muscles of his arm and shoulders. “Very mature.”
He grins again, and it’s an effort to tamp the edges of my mouth down, trying not to do the same. “Seems like I matured a lot more than you,” he says around the absurd smile on his face. “Your crew should have spent more time plundering food—”
I crack a boot into his shin. As he sucks in a pained breath, I dodge his free arm and use the hilt of the galley knife I stole, slamming it into his ribs.
He hisses, shooting one hand over the hurt and the other towards me again.
I dance away and flaunt the parchment pinched between my fingers.
“I’m touched by your concern. But I managed.
” I’ll never admit he’s right. Otto’s cooking—real greens and vegetables, have made a noticeable difference already, like the animal in me had lived half-starved.
The paper is dry, catching on my skin. I unfold it as I move away, letting my eyes trace the familiar markings like an old friend. Even steps close in from behind.
“I can’t let you keep that knife, Odelia.”
I feign innocence, but don’t look back. “Hmm?”
We’re approaching from the west, and the map shows the two sharp protrusions that bisect the island. Even from a distance they were obvious. Now, they rise like sentinels, the unnaturally smooth stone seeming to absorb the light. Rune steps beside me, his attention following my own.
I glance at him, but he doesn’t berate me for gaining the upper hand. “Does that look like—”
“Twin serpent’s teeth?” he asks. “I guess we’re in the right place.”
Twin serpent’s teeth, one gaping maw,
Deadly to sleep, silence a flaw
To step is to leap,
One breath to keep
The beasts are the least when nature is law.
I play the words on a loop in my head. Our supplies are packed. The rowboats are loaded. Rune stole the map back, his ape-ishly long arms an unfair advantage. All that’s left is to solve the riddle—and survive. The serpent’s teeth are the stones. The maw could be a cave? A pit?
The deadly to sleep part is obvious enough. We won’t chance the luxury of staying on the island overnight. The most concerning is the line about the beasts. Whoever wrote the clues seemed to think whatever might attack will be the least of our worries.
Rune orders the anchor, and the ship groans as the weight drags the bottom. Nerves bounce off each of the crew, a mix of worry and anticipation. Those that volunteered to go are quiet, studying the sandy shore. Each holds at least two weapons—it remains to be seen if they know how to use them.
Rune’s voice seems louder over the somber crew.
“Odi. We’re up first.” He jerks his head towards the waiting rowboat and extends a hand like he’s going to help me inside, but there’s no way I’m going to touch him.
Not when my entire body is already a bundle of raw nerves.
The water churns below, eliciting the memory of burning lungs and helpless fear.
A few of the crew laugh when I ignore his hand in favor of clawing my hand around the rowboat’s edge, but I’m too busy fighting the swoop of my stomach as it wobbles beneath me to care.
He climbs in next and sits in front of me, more graceful than I, his attention spiriting over my white-knuckled grip on the side.
Bear follows, shaking us further, then Tavi, who sits beside Rune, and uses the pulley to lower us in.
Finally, the boat settles low in the water.
Rune and Tavi man the ores while I fight the urge to close my eyes, knowing the darkness would only make the fear—the memory—stronger.
A larger wave lifts us, shepherding us towards the shoreline, but I gasp, waiting for the flip.
For the boat to tip and the ocean to claim us.
The animal in me doesn’t care that we’re close to the shore.