It was so sudden. So unexpected. It sent a jolt of warmth through me. Her vanilla and flower scent enveloped me one last time. “You too, huntsman.”
I wanted to grab her and kiss her, but I didn’t move. Just stood there, frozen.
She smiled, her face far more beautiful than any sunrise.
And just like that, she turned and was gone.
I needed to distract myself.
The first thing I did was get clothes that fit.My men weren’t at the inn, though, but the keeper showed me the room anyway. After I cut my messy, matted hair, trimmed my facial hair, bathed, and changed into clothes that fit, I felt more like myself. I felt like I could shoot a harpoon or run along the beach or take another long walk.
Washing felt like I washed awayher.
Memories.
Feelings.
It’s all behind me,I told myself.
It was back to work now.
We had twins to find. The ship to fix. The mystery assassins to bring to justice.
I ate alone before looking for my men, hoping the food would give me the boost I needed.
But it didn’t taste good.
Because it’s not her food.
I was going soft, and it killed me.
Keep moving, Alaric.
Every small thing left me more winded than I hoped, but I did keep moving.
I found my men near the harbor, piles of wood and supplies all around as they repaired the Crimson Wake. She looked rough, but definitely getting better.
“Captain!” My cousin embraced me, followed by another clap on the back and hug from Thatcher. Behind them stood the survivors of my crew. They looked unharmed, unscathed. The cheers of the rest of the crew startled a flock of seabirds into flight.
What a relief.It was so good to see everyone.
“We thought you were dead,” Destin said.
“I thought I was too.” I rubbed my freshly-shaved chin. Destin and Thatcher brought out some mugs and motioned to the other men.
“What are you doing?” My voice was harsh.
“Drinking because we survived. You ought to get an ale too,” said Thatcher, but before they could burst open a keg, I stopped them.
“We have to be aware. What if those assassins come after us? You can’t fight if you’re drunk.”
“I fight best when I’m drunk,” Thatcher joked, and I gave him a look.
The crew didn’t dare laugh if I didn’t. I forgot they feared me, especially when Malia hadn’t.
I immediately got back to business. “What news?”
Thatcher unwillingly put the mugs and keg away. Destin motioned for the men to keep working, then watched as I slumped onto a crate. I felt every mile I’d walked. Destin knelt beside me, his hand steadying my shoulder without a word. For a heartbeat, it was like the old days, when the world was narrowed to the creak of timbers and the trust between us.
