Chapter 15
YOU, ME, AND THE CHAIN YOU LINKED BETWEEN US
ODELIA
Despite the show of confidence, Rune sleeps much of the next few days.
When he wakes, it’s brief, and red spots mar the sharp of his cheekbones.
He eats only a little more each meal, despite Otto’s attempts.
Still, he is healing; The thrall squid punctures scab over.
The risk for infection lessens each day.
And the gleam in his eye always finds me.
I stay, guarding, careful to not get caught too close again, ignoring how the phantom warmth of his arms and the gravity of his presence make war with my willpower.
I have the strangest feeling that if I were curled against him the next time he woke, he’d be pleased.
The thought tempts me more than once, but I beat it back down, reminding myself of the harsh reality that spans between us—there is no world in which that sort of indulgence ends well.
A soft knock at the door floods my body with hyperawareness, but it’s Tavi, carrying food.
“Otto said you like the redfin, so he put extra.”
I nod, assuming there’s nothing more to say.
But there’s something uncharacteristically hesitant about the way she sets the plate on the desk and turns back to me, though not a thread of her attire is out of place.
Her unnervingly green eyes scan my no-doubt-crinkled clothes and the tangle of hair bundled on my head, as it has been every day since we left the island.
“I wanted to thank you.”
Thank me? I feel my eyebrows rise. “Why?”
“For helping.” She jerks her chin to a sleeping Rune, the words coming like a rope being coiled with every insistent pull. “With him. It’s rare that I freeze. You didn’t.”
“I’m sure it’s much harder when you actually care for the person you’re treating.” It only takes a moment for me to realise how heartless the words might sound, but I purse my lips closed, refusing to clarify with the experiences of treating those on the Sea Bane.
She glances between me and Rune, her eyes catching on the fork I’d rested just beneath the chair before burning into me again. I shrug. Old habits die hard. They won’t give me a real weapon, and I want to have every chance of subduing anyone that makes it in here.
“I also wanted to let you know,” she goes on slowly, “some of the crew are blaming you for the deaths. They plan to challenge Rune as soon as he grants a meeting. They want blood.”
My mouth is dry, but I swallow, nodding. I’d expected nothing less, but it still makes any semblance of peace in me flicker and wink out. The animal in me stirs. I shake the sensation away, already mourning the food I won’t be able to eat as my body braces for the chance of future violence.
When she goes, the smell of the redfin she brought overpowers the room, twisting my stomach.
I can’t let Otto know I hadn’t been able to stomach it, so I unlatch the round window, intending to toss it to the sea.
Except, when I brace to dump the plate over, a small, winged shadow darts for the fish, its sharp talons biting into my thumb.
“Vicious seas,” I hiss, the pain sharp as a horrid bird screech sounds from above.
The entire plate falls, its splash muted by the crash of the waves as The Gilded Hart plows on.
I guess we picked up a little feathered stowaway on the last island.
Either that or it’s a young storm roc—as if we don’t have enough trouble to deal with.
When we’re two days from the next island, Rune wakes with the sun, his movements rousing me from the nest of pillows and blankets I’d arranged in his giant chair. I scrub the wispy hair and sleep from my face before I stand.
He freezes, his eyes trailing me from my bare feet to the shirt I’ve been sleeping in.
His shirt.
The heat of embarrassment crashes through me—at first I’d only worn it because monster gunk meant the clothes they’d given me were in desperate need of a wash, then the waist of the bottoms felt too constricting for the way I had to curl into the velvet chair to sleep.
After a couple weeks being tended by the chef of The Gilded Hart, I was well nourished, already filling out with muscles and curves that had struggled to stay on with the rations of the Sea Bane.
“Your ankle looks better,” he says, his voice heartachingly soft.
“You look less like you’re dying,” I counter, hoping the unimpressed lilt in my voice breaks whatever's trying hard to settle between us.
He just smirks, his attention tracking to my throat as I swallow. “What happened to your hand?”
I look down at the bandage. Otto had fervently insisted when he came to check on Rune and saw the gash on my thumb. That’s deep, Odi. Birds don’t have the cleanest talons you know? If it gets infected you could lose it. Might be hard to use any stolen kitchen knives.
“Nothing,” I say, crossing my arms to hide it.
We’ve more important things to discuss. “Tavi said the crew is calling for my head.” I’m careful to keep my voice neutral.
Both Nisse and the animal in me have learned well enough that predators can scent fear, and there’s every chance Rune might come to agree with the demand for blood if they learn about my past.
Rune sobers, and he leans to the nightstand to pull out a dark shirt and slips it on. The irritated swirl of skin on his forearm disappears under the long sleeves. “They’re loyal,” he says. “Protective. I’ll talk to them.”
“And if they can’t be swayed?”
He lifts a brow. “Then I supposed I’d give you a turn, seeing as how you’re so personable.
” I blink, a jumble of words all tangled on my tongue, wrestling for purchase.
His smile grows as the silence goes on. “As soon as you’re decent, I’ll address the crew.
” He moves to open the door, but pauses with his hand on the knob.
“Unless you wanted to keep the shirt? I don’t mind.
” Then the light of morning blasts into the room and he’s gone, clicking the door closed softly behind him.
I dress quickly, putting on another set of Soraya’s clothes and tucking the shirt into the chair.
Outside, the barest shadow of the island is visible on the horizon.
Rune stands near the mizzen mast, bodies already crowding nearby, vying for his attention.
A few turn to me, some curious, some suspicious.
What sort of bounty refuses to leave her captor’s sickbed?
“To me!” Rune shouts, and all eyes find him. The weight of their gazes leave me, a few more shuffle from the bunk room, including Reid, whose red-faced glare flits to me like a moth to flame. The hatred in his eyes solidifies my shoulders and makes my hand twitch for the grip of my absent bola.
“First.” Rune’s voice draws me back into the moment, and I breathe deep. I can’t afford to tangle with Reid. There’s enough confrontation brewing with the crew as it is. “I’d like to thank Elio for standing in as captain while I was otherwise indisposed.”
Elio lifts his eyes to the sky as if pleading for help, and Rune starts to clap. The crew joins in, some laughing when a sharp cat call sends red flushing over the first mate’s face. Tavi’s arms are crossed at the back of the group, her lips lifted into what the daring might assume is a smile.
“Second,” Rune continues as the applause dies down, “I’d like to thank those that fought next to me on Serpent’s Tooth. My heart aches for those injured and lost. I’ll always regret that I wasn’t there when they were sent to rest, but Nareth is honoured by their sacrifice.”
“Honoured, and ready to see us home, right?” someone calls, to a few murmurs of approval.
Rune shakes his head. “The fight is only begun. We’ve faced worse and we’ll face worse still, far beyond the map’s challenge.
Only the willing should go, but we may hold the key to some of Nareth’s most precious history, and I won’t be swayed by insects, no matter their size.
” His voice lifts in challenge. “Will you?”
Some jeer against the thought, confident, others look to those beside them, their amusement tentative. A few shake their heads, anger evident in their crossed arms and clenched jaws.
Rune nods. “We land in a day and a half. We’ll make camp on shore, then send scouts to pick the best path forwards.
All are welcome to stretch their land legs, but I need a list of volunteers willing to go further inland.
We’ll need hunters to focus on rations, and those willing to go with us for the key.
We can expect the same level of risk as on Serpent’s Tooth.
Those that wish to stay aboard may do so without ridicule. Let every man choose for himself.”
“Or woman!” Soraya calls, and Rune nods.
“Or woman. Those for the shore lift a hand and say aye.”
“Aye,” several voices reply, Soraya included,
“Those for inland, lift a hand and say aye.”
The ayes are quieter, but still plenty. My shoulders drop a fraction and Rune’s grin is triumphant enough to kindle something warm in my chest. Almost imperceptibly, he nods. His crew is with him, and he’s with me. We’ve got the first part of the key.
And the next island awaits.
No greater beast than a man’s mind,
and the fear that seeks to claim it.
It’s the shortest clue on the map and already it has my legs fighting to spring.
The crew tucks as much as will fit in the rowboats—tents, food, torches.
This island is bigger—at least five leagues across.
Even from here we can see the trees are shorter, the brush higher and more intrusive than forest on the last island.
Since the map gave us so little to go off of, searching will be a multi-day affair.
“Ready to do it again?” Elio surprises me, which isn’t easy to do. He clasps an arm across the deck railing and heaves a sigh, his other hand casually adjusting the shark-tooth pendant on his chest. “No telling what hides in those trees.”