"What are those things?" Lewis asked, his chest still heaving. "You called them something..."
"Apocrita," Cirrus confirmed. "We've run into them a time or two on previous voyages, but I've never seen so many or seen them so agitated."
Vivienne squeezed the water out of her sopping-wet hair before rifling through the contents of her canvas bag.Oh, thank the gods. She was grateful its waterproof waxing had held up and prevented the destruction of her mother's journal.
"Remember when I said I was done with 'new'?" Lewis panted. "Let's not do this again,ever."
She couldn't help but laugh, trying to suppress her churning anxiety. They’d been fortunate to survive several dangerous situations.How long can we stay alive once our luck runs out?
32
The group thought time might help the fiery ache of the venom, but the pain never dissipated. If anything, Vivienne thought it was getting worse.
"Lewis, is there anything we can use for these stings?"
He sat up, the effort scrunching up his face. "I still have some yarrow in my bag. We can start there. I've seen some Ironbark Moss and Silverleaf, but we'd have to go harvest it."
Lewis tried to stand, but his stung leg gave out.
"I'm the only one without injury to a limb," Cirrus noted. "Blume, if you tell me what these plants look like, I can find them and bring them back to the group."
Lewis dove into descriptive instructions with Cirrus about the broad Silverleaves and the thick, dark green moss that only grew on ancient trees. While Lewis confirmed Cirrus' understanding, Vivienne turned her attention to the commander.
"Thank you," she whispered. "I don't think I would have?—"
"You would have made it," Owen interrupted. "I only helped a bit."
"I'm not great at asking for or accepting help."
Sarcasm flashed in Owen's dark eyes. "Tell me something I don’t know."
"There's plenty of things you don't know, commander."
"Good thing I travel with an Antiquary." He grinned.
"In the river, you... you called me by my first name," she noted, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"The timing of our circumstances didn't allow for propriety," Thorne explained. "Next time we're swimming away from crazed insects, I'll be sure to address you properly.”
"I'd prefer a written invitation to my rescue with a wax seal," she taunted. "Scented with cologne for good measure."
He raised his eyebrows, a smile curling on his lips. "I assume it should be delivered via horse-drawn carriage and to great fanfare? Trumpets, perhaps?"
She gave a playful shrug. "If there are no horses and trumpets, don't bother."
Thorne breathed a chuckle. "In all seriousness, I will revert to calling you Miss Banner.” He scanned her face, searching for a clue. “Unless you prefer otherwise?"
He had said her first name in a way no one had before, equal parts steadying and distracting. She wanted him to say it more. To explore all the layers in his voice.
"I prefer Vivienne and I’d like to call you Owen, if you’re okay with that." She smiled at him. "Oh, the horses and trumpets are only available as a part of the premium traveler's plan."
"I'll start saving up for premium then, and I’ll adjust to you using my first name." Owen smirked at her, his eyes looking deep into hers. "Vivienne."
"Well, that's great," Lewis exclaimed. "Another symptom of the venom. Our commander is acting like a human instead of a statue. He's lost his mind."
"I still see a statue... are you sure you're not the one losing your mind, Lewis?" she teased.
Lewis played along, making a series of ridiculous faces and sending all three of them in stitches. After an emotional, volatile day, Vivienne was grateful it ended with laughter.
