We barely survived the last one. The ship is a wreck, just like the crew who dwell on it. Everyone is exhausted. Morale is low. Lower than the critters who live in the shadows on the bottom of the seabed.
My bones ache from overuse. My mind aches from being in a constant state of chaos. And my heart aches for the folk I’ve lost along the way.
On top of that . . . I’d just told Odi we’re done.
I begin to pace again. Empty whiskey glass in hand.
“So are we going to take a look?” Elio says when I pass him for the fourth time.
I don’t answer. I don’t knowhowto answer him.
So he presses again. “Am I missing something here? This is the next part of the map. Why are we not rushing to assess it?”
With a sigh, I stop and stare out at sea. It’s barely visible in the dark as it gently slaps against the side of the wooden hull. Pinpricks of silver stars begin to appear above, sending a shiver down my spine. I need to make a decision.
“I’m just tired, Elio, and I’ve put everybody through so much.” My voice is heavy.
Odi still hasn’t said a word, so I twist to face her. Her eyes find me like a compass to true north. Her gaze holds me steady, but I can’t read it. It’s as if she's waiting for me to make the call. Perhaps I want her to silently beg me to continue on this journey with her. Because if I don’t . . . I drop her off at the next port we find. And she knows it.
“If this is it, what does the riddle tell us?” I ask her quietly.
She tucks a strand of her loose, dark brown waves behind an ear. “Balance the scales, feather to stone, heavier still, the guilt-sown bone.”
For a moment I'm lost in her voice, the way the sounds roll off her tongue like a poem she’s rehearsed a thousand times before. She doesn’t stumble over the words, every syllable is accounted for. Like she’s whispered these riddles into the dark when no one was listening. She knows them better than anyone . . . they’re a part of her.
This is why I have to keep going. Odelia has made her motivation clear. She’s counting on this to secure her entire future. She hadn't pushed when I’d wavered,hadn't argued or insisted. But it’s her only goal. If I send her off, will I keep the pieces of the key? If I give them to her, if I give up, Odelia will find a way to keep going, with or without a crew she can trust. The thought of anyone else being with her, of her being forced to work with those that might have no qualms about letting her drown or worse, sits heavy on my chest. And so does the thought of searching for years, only to give up the only link to my mother I’ve found.
This is the third key. We’re here now—and the riddle doesn’t sound threatening. I can go. Alone. We’ve come too far, sacrificed too much, to give up while we’restandingon the next piece.
My gaze travels between Elio and Odi before I spin towards the steps to the deck. “I’m going in.”
“I’m coming with you,” Odi says behind me.
I don’t bother to turn around, slinging my answer over my shoulder. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am,” she snaps, her steps pounding down the stairs, voice sharp enough to turn a few heads of the crew. “Because I’m not about to trust you to get the key, and keep it for yourself. We’re in this together.”
This time, I do stop, turning on my heel to look down at her. Her words sting for a moment, falling into that soft spot that’s been growing larger and larger for her each day. I thought we were past the suspicion. I’ve done nothing that wasn’t for her own safety. True, I’d swiped the key from between her breasts, but that was as logical as it was pleasurable.
Brown eyes glare up at me. Stubborn as a barnacle clinging to a rock, she is. I loose my breath, realising quickly that Icould argue with her until both of us were blue in the face but she’d sooner bite her own tongue off than back down.
I straighten, folding my arms across my chest. “Tell me, Odelia—how exactly do you plan on breathing down there without a sea stone?”
The tension between us is so thick I could slice it with my blade, yet Odi doesn’t seem fazed. She squares her shoulders as she tilts her face towards me. If she thinks I’m going to—
“She can borrow mine!” Soraya’s musical timbre interrupts. She limps up to Odi, leaning on a wooden crutch that Otto no doubt found for her.
“You should be resting,” I reply gruffly.
I would think after all this time as captain on this ship, my crew would actually listen to me when I order them to rest.
Soraya simply rolls her eyes at me. “I’ll rest when I’m dead. Besides, I won’t be using it any time soon.” She gestures to her bandaged leg.
A smirk appears across Odi’s lips, as one brow raises. They’ve got me cornered and they both know I have nothing to combat with. Unless . . .
I flick my gaze to Odi’s billowing trousers. “And what of your attire? It didn’t do you any favours in the temple. It spooked you more than once.” Even I know I’m reaching, but I press on with all the confidence I can muster. “If we get separated, you’ll need to be able to move without convincing yourself something is sweeping past you in the dark.”
Tavi drops down from the rigging like she’s been listening the whole time, landing light despite how tiredI know she must be. She leans against the side of the ship next to Elio—who still remains shirtless. “I think I can help with that.”
