Vi adjusted the tiller, checking her compass as the ship began to turn.
Arwin made a noise of disgust. “Even your magic feels slimy.”
“Slimy?” Taavin asked. Vi was genuinely curious as well. Could Arwin detect a tangible quality to Taavin’s magic, or was this just another opportunity for her to make a jab at the Faithful?
“It slithers, feels like wet seaweed over bare skin.”
“Your magic feels different for us, too,” Vi spoke before Taavin could, stealing Arwin’s attention.
“It does?”
“I wouldn’t say slimy though… uneasy, perhaps.”
“Yet another reason why the morphi are hated without cause.”
“Doesn’t that go both ways?” Vi looked down at the woman on the main deck. “I mean… if you describe Lightspinning as slimy… doesn’t that also sow the seeds of dislike?”
“Don’t talk like you know things, Dark Isle dweller,” Arwin grumbled.
Vi chuckled softly and turned her eyes back to the horizon. There was the same empty feeling she’d known all too well lingering between the spaces of Arwin’s words—the feeling of not belonging. She hadn’t belonged anywhere in her Empire, now she didn’t belong with those of Meru. Arwin was right: she didn’t understand because she wasn’t a part of this world.
But would she ever have the chance to be a part of anywhere?
“Ignore her,” Taavin said, placing a hand on Vi’s shoulder. She didn’t realize he’d even walked over, a testament to how lost in thought she’d been. “Do you have a headway?”
Vi nodded.
“How long until we arrive?”
“Depending on the wind… Perhaps two days? Three at most?”
“I’ll know when we near the shift that surrounds the isle,” Arwin declared with a determined stare over the bow of the boat. “I’ll feel it.”
“That’s helpful, then.” Vi looked back to shore. The land had become a narrow strip of black in the darkening night. The vessel was, indeed, a fast one.
“If we have a couple days, let’s sleep in turns and get decent rest so we’re ready,” Arwin suggested, starting up the quarterdeck. “I’ll take the first.” Coupled with her thoughtful expression, the offer sounded almost like an apology for her earlier remarks.
“All right.” Vi released the wheel and passed the compass to Arwin. “Head due southeast. We won’t start cutting south until we get to the Diamond Sands isles.”
“Simple enough.” Arwin said. “You two get some rest.”
Taavin paused, his gaze lingering on Arwin. Vi couldn’t tell if the woman was choosing to ignore his hesitation, or just hadn’t noticed. Not wanting to risk either, she tugged lightly on Taavin’s sleeve.
“Come on, she’s right. We should catch some shut eye.”
He followed her down into the cramped cabin, crouching through the curtained opening. Vi pushed aside the heavy tarp, hooking it on a peg.
“Leave it,” Vi requested as Taavin went to swing the tarp back down into place. “I’d rather it be open.”
“Are you sure? The moon is full tonight—it may be quite bright.”
“I’ll sleep better if I don’t feel like I’m trapped.” Vi settled her scythe on the floor between the two hanging cots on either side of the narrow cabin.
“Trapped… like on Adela’s vessel?”
She paused for a breath, then sat heavily. Vi rubbed her eyes. At every turn of her journey, no matter how much rest she managed to get at the end of the one previous, she somehow managed to feel even more exhausted.
“Yes,” Vi said finally. “The idea of being tossed around in the hull of a ship again, confined, is one of the last things I think I could tolerate right now.” In truth, there were a lot of things her patience was running thin on. This was just at the top of the list based on circumstance.
