“He’ll come too.”
Ben seemed to calculate for a moment, then leaned around her to look at me.“Well, are you coming?”
***
I had watched Mary and Grant play cards before, but that night, as I watched them win and lose and win again, I realized two things.The first was that they played more than cards—the two of them were working in concert, tactfully fleecing specific targets while the locals, sailors, and petty officers all around were none the wiser.The second was that they communicated through subtleties of movement andphrase that I only started to catch after my second drink, when I lost the will not to openly admire Mary.
I saw their hands lingering on the wood of the table at the same time, and knew without a doubt that Tane was in on their little scheme, whispering cues onlyghiseaucould hear.It was admirable and deplorable, but for once in my life I could not care.Mary was happy, and I could not help but share that, warmth growing between us.My veins hummed with a pleasant lightness, Ben was relaxed, if subdued at my side, and so far no one seemed to have recognized us.
Illya joined us at some point during the night, depositing a bottle of vaguely red cinnamon liquor on the table and initiating a drinking game that, while absolutely nonsensical, succeeded in getting half the tavern roiling with laughter.After that he had command of the establishment, and, somewhere between my second and third knuckle of the liquor, the tables were pushed back and dancing began.Someone produced a fiddle, someone else a drum.
I sat deeper into my chair, side-by-side with Ben, and watched as five women—three sailors and two locals, one of whom passed off her baby as she rose—took to the empty space and began a southern Aeadine dance, with plenty of heel-swinging, skirt-tossing, and coordinated shouts.After a moment two more women joined them, the cheers of the tavern-goers grew and, attracted by the sounds, more people crowded in from the street.
“It’s the Shepherdess!”Mary shouted, too loud in my ear.She shoved her drink into my hand and tugged her skirts up through her belt, grinning at me.“I know this one!”
All I could do was laugh—truly laugh, deep and relieved and freeing—as she launched into the fray.The other women greeted her with whoops and laughter and reaching hands, the fiddle flew, and the steps of the dance became even more rapid.
“How profoundly rural,” Ben commented.When I did not reply, he tipped his head to the side to consider me.“You look like an imbecile.”
I met his gaze, fully aware of the wideness of my grin.Thoughts and worries crowded the back of my mind as they always did, and the Dark Water lingered in the edges of my vision.But I had no headache, and, between the drink and the music, I could ignore the wider world.
For now.
“Now that you cannot be healed, what will you do with her?”Ben asked.
That made my grin falter.The women’s dance ended with a roar of laughter and cheers.The dancers sagged, breathless, Mary in their midst with her fraying braid flung over her shoulder.Then the music struck up again, and the women reorganized into a new dance.Mary did not seem to know this one as well, but that did not dissuade her, and the others swept her along.
“I haven’t the faintest idea,” I replied to Ben.
“What does she want?”he prompted.
I sipped at Mary’s drink instead of replying.
“How long do you think you have?Before the Other takes you?”
His questions were starting to grate, and my peace to fray.The Dark Water swelled, leaving the corners of my vision and broadening to veil the room.Mary’s form became a whirl of teal and grey, reflecting off the obsidian waves around my ankles.The moody red pulse of Ben’s magic washed over half my face.
“I would give myself a year,” I replied.The words came with a surprising lack of emotion—it was a thing I simply knew now, even if I had not examined the knowledge beforehand.I blinked the Dark Water back to the edges of my vision.“This matter with Hae has shortened my time significantly.”
Ben stared at me, as inscrutable as always.
I emptied the glass.Cinnamon burned up into my nose and tugged me fully back into the human world.
“I would have done it.The… healing.”
It took me a remarkable length of time to realize Ben had truly spoken those words.I turned to find him watching Mary dance, and I saw not sadness in his eyes, not truly, but something close to it.
“You are sure?”I asked, the secret of what Mary and I intended to do rattling about in my skull.
“Yes,” he replied.“After the Mereish Fleet was turned back.We will both need our powers at their fullest until then.I understand that, short of a miracle, my career is over.My life as it is, is over.I must change too.”
I could not contest that.In fact, I could hardly speak.I wanted to blame the alcohol in my veins for the sudden rush of emotion and the hot, damp blur in my eyes.How could Ben be speaking like this?Was he lying?Did he suspect I was hiding the cure from him and intended to use it whether he agreed or not?
The temptation to tell him was strong.Fortunately, Ben looked away as the song ended and more dancers flooded the floor, the women partnering up with one another and random men.
Mary glanced at us, mouth open, perhaps to call for me to join.But when she saw the seriousness of our expressions, a little of the mirth faded from her eyes.
A stranger stepped up and offered his hand.Mary curtsied and joined the dance with him.
