“Well, thank you.” My fingers close around the familiar compass. It feels heavier than its metal, as heavy as my heart. This compass saw me through the worst of my days. It guided me through countless storms.
It was the first thing I bought for myself—a free woman, out on her own, finding her own way.
It was by this compass that I convinced Kevhan I was a ship captain—a pathetic façade, but it worked. Such a seemingly insignificant thing felt as if it held my freedom in its spinning pointer. It guided me into the unknown for five years…and now, its time is over. That freedom, however fleeting and limited it might have been, is gone.
I place it in the chest. If my compass returns to my family…they’ll know I’m not coming back. My life ended with that shatter across the glass. I close the top of the chest. My fingers splay across the surface as I hesitate. It feels as if I just closed the lid of my own coffin.
Farewell, Captain Victoria.
“Now, how do we get this back to Dennow?” My words are level, fueled with purpose.
“We’ll cross the Fade again.” Ilryth has the decency not to press me on the emotions that I’m sure he knows are swirling within.
“And you’re willing to risk taking me across once more?” I know how important my role is, not just to him but to the entirety of the Eversea and everyone beyond. This is the path I’m now choosing. The last course I’m charting in my life.
“I gave you my word. And, as I told you, our word holds weight here in the Eversea.” He meets my eyes with brief intensity and then shrugs. “Besides, you’ll need to tell me how best to leave this so your family finds it. It’d be pointless to go without you.”
Reaching out, I take his hand in mine. The same hand that plucked my compass from the darkness and carried it back to me. “Thank you, Ilryth,” I say with all the sincerity in the world.
His face relaxes into a smile, a tender and earnest one. “For you, Victoria, anything.”
The words crash upon me like a wave, carrying me back to that moment just on the other side of the Fade. The moment where I realized, undeniably, that I would like to kiss him. As I stare into Ilryth’s warm eyes, it dawns on me that these urges might not entirely be one-sided. But…acting upon them would be our undoing.
I force a smile, feign ambivalence, and say a simple, “Thank you.”
* * *
This time,I don’t think Ilryth told anyone we were leaving. I would’ve expected to hear another objection from Sheel had he known. Another song of protection echoing over the duchy.
We swim off as night falls. I hang on to Ilryth’s shoulders again, riding on his back while he holds the chest. At least, this time, we didn’t take Dawnpoint, so its barrier of protection still stretches the length of the Gray Trench at our right as we head in a westwardly direction.
I’ve no doubt that we’ve timed our departure perfectly to avoid any of Sheel’s patrols. I regard the swirling depths of rot warily, peering into the darkness for any sign of a wraith that might creep over the edge…or the curl of a massive tentacle.
But everything is quiet.
After what feels like an hour of swimming, Ilryth banks and descends in a wide arc. Far beneath us is a landscape that resembles the tide pools of the lighthouse island I lived on with Charles. Rocks have been smoothed by time and currents, cradling ponds that look like slowly spinning mercury. The area is illuminated by glowing amber vents of steam and heat that rise from the molten earth below. Stone archways encircle the area, much like the anamnesis altars in the trench, separating it from the black sand of the sea floor that stretches around as far as the eye can see.
“What is this place?”
“These are the traveler’s pools. Almost all water is connected, somehow. If not on the surface, then through underground channels and unseen rivers. There are few corners of this world where the magic of my people cannot reach,” he explains. I vaguely remember the mention of this when I first asked about going to the trench. “We use these channels and connections to speed our ability to traverse long distances.”
“This is what you were telling me about earlier—the stable pools akin to the magic you used to take me here.”
“Yes, I used a vial containing a drop of this magic—the relic and song I mentioned earlier.”
“I still find myself envious of this ability,” I admit. “To easily transport oneself from one place to another would’ve completely changed my world. Though, I might have been out of a job if it were that simple.”
“Then I suppose it’s good you didn’t have it.”
“‘Good’ is relative. I’d rather be out of a job and still have my crew—and the crews of all the other vessels that sank trying to complete dangerous routes—alive.” My tone seems to sober him, and rightfully so.
“It’s not your fault they’re gone,” he reminds me, the words an echo of what he said in the trench.
“They followed me, thinking I would keep them safe.”
“And I know how hard it is when someone who trusted you with their life ends up losing it.” The words could be curt. But they’re not. Instead, they’re full of understanding and tenderness. “Sometimes, we make mistakes, and must live with those consequences. But sometimes fate simply deals a cruel hand and the blame rests at no one’s feet.”
He would know as well as I. The urge to wrap my arms around his middle so I can press my cheek against the dip between his shoulder blades is almost overwhelming. We can understand each other. In ways I never expected, I find myself sympathizing with a siren. We came from vastly different worlds. Different expectations and upbringings. And yet…there’s so much about him that I understand on an innate, almost visceral level. So much that enables him to connect with me more than anyone else I’ve ever met.
