There was no control. As soon as his blade came near me, something inside me snapped. Broke free. Everything that happened afterward is a blur. I remember little more than a faint echo of how my voice had sounded, so it is difficult to ascertain where the words came from or how I was able to wield such ancient magic. I swallow. I also remember the desire that rushed through me, taking over me, like a wave crashing in and flooding a ship. The desire to drown him.
Maybe he was right, and I am a monster.
I don’t know the code they follow, but whatever punishment they have in store, I will accept it without a fight. If they ask me to walk the planks and follow his path into the darkness, I will. And I will make sure Sable does not jump in after me.
What I don’t want is for him to see me as a monster. The way he quietly whispered to me yesterday and carried me here gives me hope he doesn’t. I can’t name what it is that I feel about him, but I do care what he thinks of me. Care about him. I know I shouldn’t. It is against everything I was taught to believe. But, in all the chaos and suffering of the last few weeks, he is the only one to fully try to understand me. The only one to succeed.
Faint shuffling starts in front of the door. I get up quietly, creep toward it, and press my ear against the cold wood. I can make out hushed voices coming from the corridor.
“Captain says it’s better she stays in there,” someone whispers. It’s Grim. “Just until we’re through the Sea of Shadows.”
I hold my breath. The Sea of Shadows. That’s where we’re aiming for. I glance toward the foggy glass window. This explains the darkness outside. The sun doesn’t rise here, not fully. I’ve never personally been here before, but I know what the sea is known for. Nothingness. Not death. Not bones. Just a never-ending black void.
This is where the dark water sirens live. They’re vicious, primitive beings. The worst of our kind. I hesitate, guilt pressingheavily against my ribs. After what I’ve done, I have no right to talk to the crew. No right to speak at all. But I know I will not forgive myself if I stay silent now.
Slowly, I open the door with shaking hands.
I’ve never felt so small. The guilt almost knocks me out as Grim and Nightglass stare at me with wide eyes.
“Eryse, you shouldn’t leave the cabin—” Nightglass begins.
I interrupt him, my voice thin. “You have to plug your ears.”
Grim shakes his head. “Plug our ears? We don’t fear you, we know—”
“No, not because of me.” Relief crashes down on me like a wave on the shore. They do not fear me. “It’s them. The dark water sirens. They will not let you pass without trying to attack.”
I swallow hard, my fingers still clinging around the doorknob. They exchange looks, uncertainty lingering between them. That dark, dangerous siren part of me begs me to stop talking, urging that I shouldn’t feed this information to them. To pirates. I push her far away.
“Okay,” Grim nods once and turns to Nightglass, who stands next to him with squared shoulders. “Burn some candles, give wax to each man. Start with your son.”
He bobs his head at Grim in understanding and hurries out onto the deck.
“You have to stay in there,” Grim jerks his chin toward the cabin behind me. “Orders from the captain.”
“And where might the captain be?”
“That’s none of your concern. Trust that he’s doing what must be done.”
By the look on his face, I know that asking more questions wouldn’t bring me more answers. As I glance over his shoulder through the open door leading toward the deck, the crew of the Noctis is moving with purpose. They’re working together in silence, bringing a bunch of things up from the hold.
“What are you doing?” I furrow my brows as our eyes meet again. “Let me help.”
“We’re lighting the deck. Otherwise the darkness will swallow the ship whole. But you,” he points one finger at me and then into the cabin, “will stay here.”
“No,” I reply sharply and plant both feet into the ground. “I will help.”
Uncomfortable silence stretches between us until he exhales through his nose and shifts his weight.
“Fine, but only until we’re through the intermaria. You can help to fasten the lanterns and light them.”
I jerk forward, ready to at least help them make it through the sea alive without another man drowning. Grim’s arm curls around me and pulls me back.
“You should change,” he nods toward my blood-soaked gown. “Better not to remind them.”
“Oh. Yes,” I reply quietly, avoiding his gaze as heat floods my cheeks. Deep splatters of red cover the bodice of my dress.
I return to the cabin with no further words, suddenly all too desperate to get out of this cursed dress. I quickly find the chest that Sable pulled all those dresses out of for me. I kneel in front of it and open it slowly, the hinges creaking as the lid lifts. I glance over my shoulder at this as if he might crash into the cabin any moment and tell me not to go through his stuff. But he doesn’t. Somehow, his absence unsettles me more than the danger closing in on us.
