“Yes,” I nodded.
He released me again and marched toward the door, that time not letting anything stop him. When he was gone and I was alone, every emotion I would have been feeling cowered away behind their thick prison doors, held at bay by Vidar’s sobering words. We weren’t out of danger yet and until we were, we did not have time to comfort the pain.
Smile, little rabbit. You have not been killed.
You’ve just been dying all along and never knew.
~The Teeth of Misfortune
After hours of walking from one place to another on the Weaver, giving aid where it was needed, the damage to my body finally forced me to give in to rest. Without the sea to speed up healing, I was a lumbering, racked with soreness and fatigue. I helped Addison arrange her heavy equipment. I checked on Meridan, whose wounds would heal with a little time, and I helped keep watch around the ship for any disturbances in the water.
But hours upon hours passed and there was nothing. The one thing I was avoiding was a visit to the hold. I didn’t have the energy for that task yet.
I saw Vidar at the helm as I retreated to our quarters, glimpsing briefly at the linen-wrapped body secured on a plank near the railing outside his doors.
Gus had been meticulously bound by the crewmen in white sheets and set aside, but even covered the way he was, his death still loomed over everyone. The whole crew loved him and yet noone was afforded a moment to express it while we were fleeing skrylls of sirens and xhoth. No one had seen anything breach the surface in some time, but it didn’t mean they weren’t still around us. There was a second ship that was close enough to see, but far enough away that we could avoid a collision. I still couldn’t believe anyone had come to our aid and no one could ask why in the chaos. We didn’t have the time or the ability to stop and speak with each other.
It was a task for another day, but until then, I retreated to bed, promising myself an hour or two of sleep in hopes that it would help mend the damage that Lyla had done.
“He exists!” Lyla shouted. “I know he exists. I’ve seen him. I grew up with him. While you grew up on the surface with mother. In warm water. With sunlight.”
“No.”
Darkness surrounded me, dense, cold, and overbearing like the deep chasms of the ocean where no siren was meant to go. Even light feared the depths and yet, somehow, I was there, floating. Caught by a frigid current that kept pulling me deeper.
“Don’t you remember the way we embraced each other in mother’s belly? Or the way they tore us apart as babes? The way mother brought you up to the light and father dragged me down to the shadows of the deep?”
“You’re lying,” I whispered.
I could not tell if my eyes were open or closed. I could not tell if I was breathing. When a faint, red glow brightened from below, warmth accompanied. It was not the kind of nurturing warmth I longed for. It was vicious and hateful. I could see my tail stretched out beneath me, barely moving. The red light was so… unnatural, undulating behind fleshy layers of veiny film that spread as far as I could see.
I tried to swim upward, but there was nothing there. No beacon to tell me I was going the right way. Nothing to hear my screams. Nothing to take my hand as I was drowning. Looking down, something began to stir behind the fleshy membrane. Shapes, dark as night, all coiled together like a den of vipers. They pressed against the red, fleshy wall, squirming as if trying to get through. Still, I could not flee.
Helpless. I was helpless. Like a baby not yet free of my womb.
The membrane began to tear and split until thick, black appendages began to uncoil from the abyss, reaching. I screamed, but nothing came out. Above me, the blackness opened up, letting faint strings of blue light in from whatever surface taunted me from above. I reached for it, but nothing was there to take my hand as the long tentacles uncurled toward me.
“Even now, I’m not good enough for him,” Lyla whispered, her voice all around me.
I woke tangled in sheets, reaching out for Vidar only to find empty space where he usually slept beside me. My wounds felt like deep bruises as I moved, which was marginally better than the sharp sting I was feeling the night prior. I stirred carefully, slipping on a cotton underskirt in place of my usual pants. I ventured out into the bright daylight barefoot to see the other ship stationary right beside the Storm Weaver. The eerie sound of creaking wood filled the air as the galleons drifted parallel to each other on the gentle waves.
Finally, after the mad retreat, it seemed both vessels could take a moment to breathe. Vidar was standing at the railing, thumbs hanging on his belt. On the other ship, I could see Nazario’s familiar dark hair and leather tricorn hat. The two captains were discussing something by the looks of it, but as I approached, they seemed to conclude whatever it was. Vidar turned to face me, the shadows under his eyes dark and heavy.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“There is an island a day from here. It’s small. Green. My father buried men there in the past. We’ll regroup and get our bearings.”
“You’re going to bury Gus.”
He nodded. “He hated the sea. He said it all the time. He was only out here because of me. I’m not dumping him in it to rot.”
“I think it’s a good idea.”
Our gazes lingered for a moment as if we were both seeing a side of each other that we’d never seen. Despite sharing dreams we often couldn’t even remember come morning, we were still getting to know each other. Now, I was seeing Vidar broken. Even if he was wearing a very intricate mask, I could feel it between us like a knot between muscles.
“You should sleep,” I said.
“I was about to,” he nodded. “But I need to know you’re alright first. After everything… I should have asked sooner. Really asked, I mean.”
