The corner of Melodie’s mouth lifted, a quiet acknowledgement of what she already knew. "Ask him yourself."
Vivienne spun, scanning the deck—then stopped short.Gus!
He stood near the mast, bandaged and bruised, his injured arm secured in a makeshift sling. Recovery dulled the luster of his imposing presence, but his eyes—rich, earth-brown and filled with unwavering belief—found hers instantly.
"I knew you’d make it back," he said, his deep voice a whisper of its usual strength, but unshaken.
Vivienne’s chest tightened, a tangled knot of relief and lingering fear. In three steps, she was there, wrapping her arms around his broad waist, careful to avoid his healing arm. The top of her head barely reached his chest.
"We made it," she whispered, her voice thick, the truth of it overwhelming. "I’m so glad you’re okay."
Gus rumbled a tired chuckle, though it came out more like a pained sigh. "You think I’d let a little cut stop me?" He pulled back just enough to look down at her. "When it’s my time to cross into the eternal glade, the goddess of life and death herself will have to drag me there herself."
Vivienne laughed through a fresh wave of tears, shaking her head.
"Oh, that reminds me." Gus reached into his vest, fishing out a tiny roll of parchment and cradling it in his broad palm.
Briar got my message? And she wrote back?Vivienne’s fingers trembled as she took it from him, unfurling it as though it might disintegrate in her hands.
Two lines, short and simple.
Glad you are safe. We are good. —B
Please get enough to eat. —J
She clutched the tiny letter against her chest, trying to contain the flood of gratitude and emotion swelling inside her. "Thank you for keeping this safe for me, Gus."
"Of course." He ruffled her hair, his voice dipping into quiet amusement. "Though I’ll admit, I read it first, and it took me a minute to figure out who it was for. I don’t know who this ‘J’ is, but I like them already."
Vivienne let out a watery laugh. "Johanna. She’s basically family. And she owns the best bakery in Fendwyr." She wiped at her damp cheeks, sniffing. "I’d love to take you and Millicent there when we’re back."
Gus’ grin warmed. "Millie and I would love to." He scooped her up in a one-armed hug. Her feet dangled off the ground as he held her in a tight, brief embrace before setting her down.
Behind them, the rest of the returning crew climbed aboard.
Melodie moved swiftly, tending to Lewis first, whose bruised and bloodied face was a roadmap of Enyo’s cruelty. She slathered a thick salve onto his swollen skin, her touch gentle despite his flinching.
"You’re meeting me in the infirmary in twenty minutes," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Lewis, still reeling from the shock of surviving, nodded meekly.
She turned next to Owen, baffled as she unwound the bandages on his arm. "You’re lucky," the doctor muttered, inspecting the wound. "I don’t understand how something this severe resolved itself so quickly. There’s discoloration, but otherwise…" She looked at him, suspicious. "You appear to be healed."
Owen merely smiled, exhaustion dulling the usual sharp edge of his expression.
"I’ll tell you all about it later."
Melodie snorted, unconvinced, but let it go for now. “You’re meeting me in the infirmary after Lewis.”
As Dr. Mercer patched up Florence, Captain Garrett stepped forward, surveying them with a keen, knowing gaze.
"As grateful as I am to see you all aboard," his voice clearing the hushed murmurs, "we do not stand here in the same number as when we began this journey."
A weighted quiet settled over the deck. The names, the faces of those lost, floated through like ghosts.
Garrett's voice carried a quiet respect. "Let us continue to acknowledge the sacrifices made by the brave men and women who serve our crown and our lady Zephyrus."
Heads bowed. A moment of silence followed, thick with understanding—for what they had endured, for the names they could no longer call out to in the dark, for the privilege of still being here, standing side by side. Survivors.
