I gasp, my eyes snapping open. Where is the air?
Something brushes along the curl of my spine, languid, hot to the touch. “The sea is far,” Eurus murmurs, with a gentleness I did not think he was capable of. “It cannot touch you.”
Releasing a shuddering breath, I sag fully against him. “I feel it on m-my skin,” I whisper hoarsely.
“And whose fault is that? Had you not fought me, you would not have slipped from my grasp.”
If my throat were not so completely ravaged from swallowing salt water, I might laugh for how warped his perspective is. “In what world would a woman taken against her w-w-willnotfight her captor?”
He is quiet, but it is the sort of quiet offered to contemplation, space granted to allow thoughts to settle into their decided forms.
Carefully, the East Wind asks, “You said your mother tried to drown you when you were a child. Why?”
What does it matter? I wonder. “My father w-was a fisherman,” I whisper. “That’s how he and my m-m-mother met. Each week, she purchased fish from him at the market. According to Nan, my mother never cared for children, but my father loved m-me, and I do believe a part of her loved me, too, when he was alive.” I frown, unable to guard against the melancholy settling like a fog over my heart.
“A storm capsized his boat. My mother was d-devastated. I can only imagine the difficulties in raising a daughter alone. One day, she cracked. Dragged me down to the beach and sh-shoved me under.” I shudder. “In return for sacrificing me, my mother hoped the Master of Sea m-might return the husband she’d lost.”
Of course, death is not kind. One cannot call back someone who is already gone. It hurts, knowing I was not enough to love, but I was enough to sacrifice.
“She sounds nearly as bad as my father,” Eurus comments.
And what had Eurus’ father done to him? “Why didn’t you kill my lady wh-when you had the chance?” I whisper drowsily. Sleep, that peaceful rest, beckons.
“Because she needs you. And I figured it would hurt her more, knowing I have taken you from her. Knowing you are mine.”
My face warms. I turn it into his shoulder so he cannot see how that word—mine—flusters me.
“Rest, bird.” The East Wind disentangles himself. “If you have need of something, the manor will see to it.”
He slips out into the hall as silently as he arrived. I study the closed door long after he has gone.
The next morning, I’m woken by an intense bout of coughing. My still-bruised sternum twinges from the force of my hacking. Beneath the blankets, I shiver, my sweat-slickened skin feverish to the touch.
Sunlight pours through the window. It is well past dawn, I realize in shock. I never sleep so late. Then again, my slumber was fitful. Too hot, too cold. I doubt I got more than a few hours’ rest.
As I sip from the glass of water on my nightstand, the East Wind stomps into the tower, a rough breeze trailing his entrance. “Why are you not up?” Legs braced, arms crossed over his chest. His displeasure is plain.
I stare at him from beneath the stack of blankets, feeling too poorly to react to his anger. “I’m not feeling well.” The words are garbled, my throat painfully scratchy, as if stuffed with fistfuls of sand.
“That can’t be. You received enough rest.” He heads for the window. Admittedly, it is a lovely day, with blue skies and nary a cloud. Perfect weather for gardening. “Get up,” he says. “We have work to do.”
He meansIhave work to do. “I can’t.”
“What do you mean, you can’t? I told you the poisons must be completed before we travel to the City of Gods.”
“I’m s-sick!”
“And?”
Oh, dear. He hasn’t the slightest clue what it means to feel unwell. I imagine immortality comes with certain benefits. “Have you ever suffered from illness before?”
“I am a god,” he states, as though the answer were obvious.
That settles things. “When mortals become ill,” I explain, my lips cracking painfully, “our bodies need food and rest to r-recover. If we push ourselves, we may make ourselves sicker.”
His wings rustle in what I believe to be impatience. “So you need, what… more rest? Something to eat? Did you ask the manor to make you lunch?”
“I was sleeping.”
