“What’s her problem?” Taavin muttered.
“She got what she wanted, and doesn’t know how to feel about it,” Vi answered easily, beginning a quick inspection of their new vessel.
The ship was fairly simple, one mainmast and a foremast. The rigging she’d already used on the davits was some of the most complicated of all the ropes. There was a tiny cabin that was half in the hull and half beneath a shallow quarterdeck. A break in the smooth lines of the deck toward the bow betrayed a storage area Vi inspected immediately, confirming rations within.
“You think she regrets killing Fallor?” Taavin followed behind her.
“Regrets? No.” Vi shook her head. Thinking of Arwin right now felt like looking into a mirror that reflected what was inside, rather than out. Vi could recognize emotions and feelings—all the ones she didn’t want to see. “But I don’t think it’s so black and white. Fallor betrayed her, yes. But she also loved him, once. Those feelings were real to her before the discovery that they hadn’t mattered to him.”
“This isn’t Jayme,” Taavin whispered gently. Vi slowly lowered the storage hatch and turned, looking up at him from her crouched position. “Arwin has known who Fallor was for a long time.”
“Some emotions are as sharp as knives that don’t dull or rust with time.” Vi stood, looking out over the water and seeing the dark bird gliding on the ocean breezes. “Even if you’re right, after dreaming of his death for so long… how would it feel to actually get it? To have it be so easy?”
“I don’t know.”
“Me neither.”
Jayme’s death had been swift and sudden, and perhaps easier. Vi didn’t have to live with the knowledge that the woman who had wronged her was still out there breathing. The chapter was closed, and while she still carried the wounds of it, she could try to move forward.
Arwin had been in stasis for years. Vi could only imagine how she must be feeling now.
The woman in question landed lightly on the deck, a pack over her back and Vi’s bag strapped across her chest. She tossed them haphazardly into the cabin, reporting, “No problems with them.”
“Arwin.”
“What is it, princess?” Arwin sighed, leaning her staff against the entrance to the cabin. There was no door, merely a curtain stretched across the opening to keep out the night’s chill and salt spray. She looked at Vi warily and, for a long moment, they merely held each other’s gaze.
Vi didn’t know what she’d intended to say. Had she wanted to tell Arwin that she understood in some way? Did she want to say it was okay to feel whatever it was she was feeling?
“Thank you for your help.” In the end, Vi couldn’t pry. Just as she didn’t want anyone to pry about Jayme, she wouldn’t inflict that on Arwin.
Rather than retorting back with something about having no other choice, or begrudging them both, Arwin gave a grunt in acknowledgement. That was the best Vi could hope for, and she let the matter drop.
“Taavin, how much do you know about rigging?” It was past time for them to be on their way.
“I grew up in the Archives of Yargen and spent most of my time making use of the fact. I may not have had a chance to apply knowledge very often, but I certainly collected it.”
“Good, let’s give you a chance to practice, then. You and Arwin will help get the sails ready while I plan a headway.” Vi started for her satchel in the cabin, retrieving her journal and a compass. She didn’t even make it back out before they were bickering.
“I wouldn’t untie that.”
“You said to untie this.”
“No, untiethisone.” Taavin tapped on a rope knotted to a peg. “Not that one.”
“Well you should be more clear.”
“I’m being perfectly clear.”
Vi ignored them, starting up to the quarterdeck. Consulting her maps and the compass, she quickly decided on the best headway. “Lower the sails. Taavin, as we sail out, please hide the ship.”
“Why?” Arwin asked.
“I don’t want anyone from Toris seeing us leave.” She didn’t want to give Adela any warning that they were coming. Though, despite her best efforts, Vi fully expected the woman to know. She was far too cunning not to. Vi was beginning to doubt that anything happened on the seas without Adela somehow knowing.
The wind hit the sails and Arwin finished tying them off as Taavin intoned, “Durroe watt radia.”
Light swirled out from him in glyphs that slowly wrapped up the whole vessel. They spun slowly over the deck, cutting through the walls of the vessel harmlessly. Magic settled on every surface with a dull shine.
