Chapter 10 #2
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten that knife, Odelia,” Rune says suddenly, pulling me back to the present. His focus weighs on me like a cloak, but I try not to look at him. Try to force my muscles to relax, my jaw to stop clenching so hard I’m sure my teeth will crack.
“What knife?” Tavi asks. But the accusation is thrown more at her captain than at me.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he gives a dramatic, affected sigh, like he’s a rich mainland lady putting on airs for court. “I can’t let you keep it.”
That makes me face him. “You’d leave me defenseless on a monster-infested island?”
Again with that infuriating smirk. “One look at you and the monster will go running, I wouldn’t worry too much. Besides, ask Bear what he thinks Tavi would do if you tried to pull it on the wrong person.”
Otto perks up, like he’s just now joining the conversation. “Hm? Ask me what?”
Rune stops rowing and reaches a hand out, effectively stranding us in the water. “Hand it over, Odi. Or I’ll have to come over there and take it from you.”
It’s a habit to resist at this point, but he’s huge.
Easily half the weight in this boat right now, and my stomach already churns at the thought of him disturbing our balance and flipping us in.
So with an annoyed huff I tug up the hem of my trousers and pull the knife from where it hides, wrapped and tucked into my boot.
“My paring knife!” Bear says as I pass it to Rune, his brows pinched in a way that makes him look older. “You stole it from the galley?”
“I—” I hesitate, but there’s no reason. “Yes. Did you expect any better?” I shrug, looking away from the disappointment that’s loud and clear on his face.
It’s just another reminder that they don’t know me.
What I’m capable of. “Can we go now?” I say to Rune, trying to keep my voice neutral.
Water laps hungrily at the edges of the boat.
He still watches me too closely. Those in the boats behind us slow as they near, likely wondering what made us stop.
Rune picks up the oar on his side, and the cut of the flat through the water is the only sound as we move on.
Sweat beads on his brow. The muscles of his forearm flicker as he and Tavi push and pull in tandem until, finally, we scrape against the sandy shore.
Before anyone else can move, Rune leaps over the side, soaking himself up to mid-thigh and pushing further aground.
His light-coloured pants cling, almost transparent now.
Yet another image to banish from my mind.
Bear leaps out to join him, tugging from the front, Tavi pulls the oars in and they clink as she lays them in the bottom of the vessel before she steps over too. I rise and, keeping his attention trained on the island, Rune reaches a hand out, again.
But I can’t take it.
Even though my legs feel like jelly and my stomach feels like it’s one more giant-man-sized row away from emptying itself, I can’t nurse the too-soft thing that’s growing in my chest. Every other part of me is a jagged edge. Sharp. Better to put it out of its misery.
I ignore his offer and step out, but the silt shifts, sucks my boot down to the ankle, and I wobble, reaching for him anyways.
He pulls back just as our hands brush, leaving me reaching into open air.
There’s a moment of slow, unstoppable inertia, then I go down in a clumsy splash, soaking one leg in the water completely.
Some of the crew that have landed laugh openly, but Rune just strides past, pulling his hair into a knot on his head, leaving me to sweep my hands in the water to remove the gummy, clay-like silt that clings to them.
I deserved that one, but knowing it doesn’t stop the flame in my cheeks.
The embarrassment doesn’t last long. The moment my boots hit dry land, a weight lifts from my shoulders. The earth sings.
I feel it in every solid, unyielding step.
The ground is soft at first, but I follow the others towards the tree line, relishing the way it shifts and solidifies, pulling my attention from my too-busy mind and firmly into my body, into the sensation of solid earth.
This time, when my animal whispers, it’s not in fear.
It’s anticipation. Memory. The wind whistling past my ears.
The blur of green and brown and the trailing pinpricks of gentle pastels.
Soon, I whisper back.
The strip of beach is thin, crowded by gangly trees that link branches as if to ward strangers away.
“To me!” Rune shouts, drawing the group together.
There’s plenty of us, including Tavi, Bear, Elio, Rune, and myself.
Most of the rest are from the day crew, since the others needed to sleep.
Luckily, the island itself is small and we can’t stay overnight, which means less supplies to carry.
With any luck, it’ll only take an hour to get to the centre of the island.
“We walk in pairs!” Rune calls. “We should reach the stones within the hour. From there, we’ll reassess and decide what’s possible before sundown.
Don’t get separated. If you do get separated, find and follow the shore until you see the ship.
There’s no point getting lost in the trees a second time.
” His expression is more serious than I’ve ever seen it, a small furrow in his brow betraying whatever worries he’s shielding from the crew.
Both his weapons are strapped to his belt—a sword and a dagger, both made of that same bone.
His sky-blue eyes skate over each face, hesitating on me a beat longer than necessary.
“Pair up,” he says, and before I can stop and watch the others ignore me, he beckons me over. “I don’t need you running off.”
I feign a look around. “Where would I go? I’m more concerned you might leave me here.”
He lifts a brow, a bit of his usual mischief shining through.
“Don’t tempt me.” The crew lines up, and we lead, stepping into the dappled shadows.
Leaves crunch under our steps. I want to memorise the sound.
“Besides,” he continues, “on the rowboat I got the impression you’d suffer more if I took you back on the water. ”
Was it so obvious? “I all but drowned a few days ago.” The way he glances over tells me he doesn’t believe my casual shrug.
“Couldn’t have been the first time right? In your line of work.”
“My line of work?” I almost laugh. “Don’t you mean being a filthy rat-infested, scum-eating pirate?”
“What is it with you and eating things?”
I can’t help the choked laugh that shocks us both. To save face, I feign a cough, and when I risk a look back over he’s smoothed his expression as well, sky-blue eyes trained on the dense trees that swallow us now.
“What about you? Any close calls with a watery grave?” I ask, if only to fill the silence.
“Are we making small talk now? Was dropping you all I needed to do to get you to open up to me?”
Someone stifles a laugh behind us and I whirl to find a stone-faced Tavi and a bashful Bear. “Sorry,” he says. “It was just so petty.”
I don’t disagree. Rune sucks his bottom lip between his teeth; he obviously can’t argue either.
“No,” I say, turning back around. “I just think if we’re going to be stuck together for the next month or so we ought to . . .” I wave a hand, unsure what it means.
“Do you think we’ll become friends, Odi?” His tone is sickly sweet. Teasing.
I mask my irritation with purr. “Well I’m already sleeping in your bed.”
This time the subtle cough comes from Tavi, and I don’t have to turn around to know I’m right.
Rune finally grins. “Fair enough. No, I’ve never almost drowned in my line of work. I’m a strong swimmer.”
Bear’s chuckle continues for a moment, then the only sound is the chattering of whatever insects call this island home. “This is where you ask me a question,” I say, keeping my attention locked on our surroundings.
“Fine. Why do you want this so badly?”
I don’t need to ask him to clarify what he means. “With enough coin I could go anywhere. Be anyone.”
He shakes his head. “You could do that without the treasure, without the danger.”
Says the man who was going to send me into an earth prison before the map came into play. “You made it implicitly clear I wouldn't have that opportunity.”
He shakes his head. “No. Before that. Before any of this. Why decide you need the map? You have to worry your crew will notice you stole it. You could have vanished anywhere. Found work. Now you have a target on your back.”
“No one would allow me to work for them. Not if they knew who I was. If I was ever found out—”
“Surely the bars and temples on the mainland have seen their share of reformed pirates.”
I press my lips together. He’s not wrong, but they’ve never seen Nisse, Captain Ivor’s right hand, the ocean’s reaper, death’s mistress, or whatever other absurd name the rumors are favoring this month.
“No. With enough coin, I can find a forest, far away from any cities or towns, far away from any nooses they might hang.”
“You’ll be alone.”
“Yes. Which means I’ll be safe.”
Again, we fall into silence. The crew still rustles through the underbrush, but there’s no breeze to stir the canopy overhead.
The chirps and trills are silent. I slow, eyes catching on a clump of yellowing leaves with veins of red caught in the light, like stained glass.
I pluck just one and tuck it into my pocket.
Rune watches, his face impassive enough that I don’t think he’ll ask about it, but I can’t help but slow even more, a strange wariness blooming in my gut.
The ground hums beneath my boots, but not in a way that touches my ears. It’s almost like—
The animal in me freezes.
“What is it?” he asks, like the alarm is plain on my face.
I shake my head. “Listen.”
His attention stays locked on me, his eyes tracing my expression. “It’s . . . quiet,” he says.
“The insects stopped.” I should have noticed. “Do you feel that?”
The earth’s rumble grows until the rest of the group is looking around in alarm.
It moves through our legs, loud enough to reach our ears now.
Above, birds flee, taking off in a blur of wings.
Rune’s blade shinks as it comes out of its sheath and the others follow suit, turning their backs to each other so we’ve got eyes on all sides.
I reach for my hip, seeking a weapon that isn’t there.
Trembling leaves overhead shake down in a feathery rain.
Then it stops.
“The fuck was that?” Elio says, his head on a swivel, but the forest is unchanged. Slowly, the insects begin to chatter again. A bird darts past, close enough to shift the air around us. Some flinch, but I just flick my eyes to the nearest weapon. Tavi definitely notices.
“Just a land tremor,” Rune calls.
All are weary as we shuffle back into our line and walk on, their uncertain murmurs rising like a wave. We haven't made it eight steps before there’s a muffled shout, followed by the sound of skittering rocks.
“Corrin!”
Rune flies towards the commotion, pushing through the other bodies that begin to gather. I’m on his heels. A thin man kneels beside a barrel-sized hole in the ground, the corded muscles of his neck straining as he shouts. “Corrin!” The soil at its edges is still crumbling in.
“Back up!” I shout.
“Who the fuck asked you?” someone behind us asks.
I don’t bother to acknowledge them. Rune pulls the kneeling man up by his waist and drags him back, just as a crack splits beneath him and the hole grows big enough to touch the toes of their boots.
“I’m down here! I’m alright!” Corrin’s voice echoes below. The sound seems to shape the crew’s panic into focus, and they break apart in a flurry of activity.
“Who’s got the rope?”
“Here!”
“Everybody back up!”
“It’s secure. Get it down there!”
Rune spins, sweeping his attention over the trees. “It’s happening again.”
He’s right. The ground rumbles. Faint. Adrenaline arcs through me like lighting. It’s no land tremor.
“GET HIM UP HERE,” Rune commands, taking a spot on the rope, the muscles of his arms and shoulders straining as they pull. Their first heave splits the earth further, wedging the rope in a crack of its own making.
“Shit.”
“Back up Corrin!”
“We’ll have to break it.”
“Someone get him a torch.”
I step closer as they drop one in. It falls longer than I’d expected before spinning on the ground. Luckily, it stays lit and Corrin grabs it, the light reflecting off his sweaty, dirt-smudged face. He’s at least a story and a half down. It’s a miracle his legs aren’t broken.
The rumbling grows as three men use fallen limbs to stab at the ground around the rope, trying to make space for him to get up. They’re going too slow.
“Use your sword! You have to dig!” I say.
This time, they listen. Those working the ground use their weapons to chip away at it instead, slamming the blades down and twisting so the crack slowly widens. The ground shakes, the leaves and branches rattle, scraping against each other.
“Don’t stop!” Rune orders. “But get a second rope secured on the other side.”
“Something's coming!” Corrin shouts, his voice high and panicked.
“We’re almost there, Corrin,” he says, but I can see the despair as he watches the second rope get secured. The crack around the rope is only half a man wide.
“There’s something—THERE’S SOMETH—”
The light in the hole snuffs out, replaced by the shine of a segmented exoskeleton.
“The hell!!” someone shouts.
It’s huge. Endless. Its body moves beneath us in waves that rise and fall towards each seam.
I step forwards, but a hand latches around my forearm.
Bear. He doesn’t say anything, just shakes his head, the skeleton hand earring bobbing away.
Rune’s jaw flickers as he watches the creature pass.
His arms are crossed, lips pressed tight. Everyone is silent. Waiting.
The ground rumbles for ages.
When it goes, the quiet stays. The hole is empty.
And even the birds are reluctant to break the tense sorrow that hangs like a shroud.
The odd weight makes my stomach hollow, but I can’t afford to feel it.
Empathy won’t help us now. Rune’s face is drawn, but he agreed to this as much as anyone else here.
Slowly, we gather again. We move on. We haven’t made it to the first key and we’ve already got one man down.
I have a feeling he won’t be the last.