Her brow raises, a playfulness I’ve not seen before dancing in her eyes. “Rebellious act then? Daddy issues?”
I release the chuckle trapped behind my lips. “I think we’ve had enough truths for now,” I say, as I rise from my chair. “Stand and tell me how that feels.”
Odi slides off the bed cautiously, but still manages to stumble when her feet hit the ground. Reflexes have me reaching out to steady her. The wall I built to keep us apart begins to crumble when she leans into my touch without hesitation, her body pliable and soft, like she feels safe.
She clears her throat, trying to hide the flare of colour in her cheeks. “Much better . . . thank you.”
Part of me doesn’t want to let her go, but the sensible side roars for distance. Nothing good waits if I linger. With a curt nod, I release her and retreat towards my desk. Odi smooths the folds of her billowing trousers, fabric that only teases theshape it’s meant to hide. It takes everything in me to drag my gaze away.
“You know you didn’t have to go diving into the cenote alone. If we’d made a plan I could have helped.” Her voice is low, and if I were a fool I might say it verges on emotional.
I try to focus on the papers sprawled on the wooden surface but her words dance around me. Dropping the ink pen onto the desk that I’d picked up without thought, I glance over my shoulder. “Are you saying you were concerned for my wellbeing, little doe?”
Odi folds her arms across her chest and rolls her eyes. “I’m saying you could have spared yourself a night of fever and pain.”
I turn to fully face her before leaning against the edge of the desk. “And not have you attend my wounds?” I fold my arms across my chest, brow raised. “Not a chance.”
A tiny smile forms on Odi’s lips, and my heart swells at the sight of it. She’s smiling atme. . . not at Otto’s chatting, or Soraya's song, but me.
I spin back around before I say something stupid. We have one part of the key now, yet there are still three more to find. And we aren’t going to find them inside my sleeping quarters. So despite my still aching body, I allow a grin to dance on my lips as I pick up the treasure map, turn, and hand it to the enticing woman behind me. With a small branch of trust growing between us, I let the words tumble from my lips. “Where to next, Odi?”
YOU,ME, AND THE CHAIN YOU LINKED BETWEEN US
15
ODELIA
Despite the show of confidence, Rune sleeps much of the next few days. When he wakes, it’s brief, and red spots mar the sharp of his cheekbones. He eats only a little more each meal, despite Otto’s attempts. Still, he is healing; The thrall squid punctures scab over. The risk for infection lessens each day. And the gleam in his eye always finds me.
I stay, guarding, careful to not get caught too close again, ignoring how the phantom warmth of his arms and the gravity of his presence make war with my willpower. I have the strangest feeling that if I were curled against him the next time he woke, he’d be pleased. The thought tempts me more than once, but I beat it back down, reminding myself of the harsh reality that spans between us—there is no world in which that sort of indulgence ends well.
A soft knock at the door floods my body with hyperawareness, but it’s Tavi, carrying food.
“Otto said you like the redfin, so he put extra.”
I nod, assuming there’s nothing more to say. But there’s something uncharacteristically hesitant about the way she setsthe plate on the desk and turns back to me, though not a thread of her attire is out of place. Her unnervingly green eyes scan my no-doubt-crinkled clothes and the tangle of hair bundled on my head, as it has been every day since we left the island.
“I wanted to thank you.”
Thank me?I feel my eyebrows rise. “Why?”
“For helping.” She jerks her chin to a sleeping Rune, the words coming like a rope being coiled with every insistent pull. “With him. It’s rare that I freeze. You didn’t.”
“I’m sure it’s much harder when you actually care for the person you’re treating.” It only takes a moment for me to realise how heartless the words might sound, but I purse my lips closed, refusing to clarify with the experiences of treating those on theSea Bane.
She glances between me and Rune, her eyes catching on the fork I’d rested just beneath the chair before burning into me again. I shrug. Old habits die hard. They won’t give me a real weapon, and I want to have every chance of subduing anyone that makes it in here.
“I also wanted to let you know,” she goes on slowly, “some of the crew are blaming you for the deaths. They plan to challenge Rune as soon as he grants a meeting. They want blood.”
My mouth is dry, but I swallow, nodding. I’d expected nothing less, but it still makes any semblance of peace in me flicker and wink out. The animal in me stirs. I shake the sensation away, already mourning the food I won’t be able to eat as my body braces for the chance of future violence.
When she goes, the smell of the redfin she brought overpowers the room, twisting my stomach. I can’t let Otto know I hadn’t been able to stomach it, so I unlatch the round window, intending to toss it to the sea. Except, when I brace to dump the plate over, a small, winged shadow darts for the fish, its sharp talons biting into my thumb.
“Vicious seas,” I hiss, the pain sharp as a horrid bird screech sounds from above. The entire plate falls, its splash muted by the crash of the waves asThe Gilded Hartplows on. I guess we picked up a little feathered stowaway on the last island. Either that or it’s a young storm roc—as if we don’t have enough trouble to deal with.
When we’re two days from the next island, Rune wakes with the sun, his movements rousing me from the nest of pillows and blankets I’d arranged in his giant chair. I scrub the wispy hair and sleep from my face before I stand.
He freezes, his eyes trailing me from my bare feet to the shirt I’ve been sleeping in.
