“That I died,” Lark says in a raspy voice. “They cut my throat.”
Nightglass flinches at his words and puts a protective arm around him. My throat dries up, and I bring my hand to my mouth to stop a gasp from escaping.
“You mean...” I stutter, not wanting the truth to settle.
“Aye,” He quickly nods. “I think we were all having the same nightmare.”
“Oh, Lark,” I take his hand in mine and give it a squeeze. “You know that something like that would never happen. Your father would never let any harm come to you, right?”
His posture straightens. “I can defend myself.”
A quiet laugh bubbles out of me, and I nod. “Yes, of course you can.”
“Lass,” Nightglass says, nodding towards my head. “Let’s get you to Harrow. There’s a pool of red on your white hair. Doesn’t look good.”
“I’m aware,” I straighten and smooth the folds of my dress. “But we can’t lose any more time. We have to leave the sea, or risk falling asleep again. And I need you in the crow’s nest to watch the Glim.”
“I obey the captain only.” He replies shortly.
Heavy footsteps make me turn my gaze towards the steep steps. Sable descends into the orlop, his eyes widening as he takes the scene in.
“Is Lark okay?” he asks Nightglass, his face twisted with concern as he strides towards us and inspects the boy himself.
“He’s good, just a little frightened, eh?” Nightglass says with a wink, ruffling his son’s hair.
I press my lips together and catch the exact moment it dawns on him that we all shared the same dream. His eyes widen.
“Wait,” he says, his gaze flicking towards me. “We were all stuck in the same dream?”
“Yes, Cap’n. Seems like it. Eryse came down here to check on Lark, same as you.”
He presses his lips together and scans the little pirate again before giving a curt nod. “Praise the seas, it was just a dream. Bring him to Harrow, just to be sure. Go to your station after. We have to follow the Glim and leave this bloody sea as soon as possible.”
“Aye, captain,” Nightglass replies with a nod and heaves Lark off the barrel.
Finally, Sable’s eyes meet mine. Something flashes through them, but before I can grasp what it is, it is gone again. More members of the crew gather around us now, checking on the little pirate. Even though it warms my heart to see how they all care for him, my stomach tightens. It seems as though he’s not willing to acknowledge what happened between us, out there on the sandbanks. Even though it was a dream, I experienced it as if it were reality. For me, the kiss was real, and so was him telling me that I am his hope, and that he is willing to fight for his crew and himself. But maybe for him it’s nothing more than a dream, a world in which he was not cursed, and I was not broken. That’s why he was so careless, why his shadow was with him. It all comes crashing in on me again, the ugly truth we call reality, like a wave crashing into cliffsides.
He leaves without another word.
Chapter Thirty-One
Therearealotof things that I would like to do right now, and letting myself into the captain’s cabin is not one of them. Not even the sea itself could get me to go after him now like a whelp. If he can act as if none of this ever happened, then I can too.
Grunting, I push my shoulder against the door and turn the iron handle. Sable’s cabin looks like it did before, though someone has carried the lanterns back outside. With my hands curled into fists, I stride towards the wooden shelves that dozensof books rest upon. The colors have faded from most of them, a clear sign that they have been here for quite a while.
This is going to be difficult, considering the fact that I cannot read. But I’ll be damned if I don’t at least try. I sigh and take the book that Sable showed me before from its shelf, along with a few others that look similar enough to be helpful. The heavy-looking, worn working desk in front of the stained-glass window looks exactly like the right place to get to work, so I carefully place the books between the clutter and sit down in the red leather chair that rests in front of it.
The desk is crowded with journals, each covered with a thin piece of leather. Ink pads, bottles, and pens are scattered across it, along with the odd golden coin and a few bone charms. He really must like those charms.
Shaking my head, I try to get my mind free of the captain and open the book I know has the sirens in it. From looking at the drawings it explains the different types of sirens that live in the Six Seas. The Sea of Dreams siren looks delicate, ethereal, and not obviously dangerous — but I know from personal experience with my swarm that sirens usually are. The next page shows a sleeping sailor, and right next to him, a skull, which must symbolize death. I sigh. We really should’ve turned to the next page.
As that was the last entry about this sea, I take the next book and flip through the thin, fragile pages. This one has fewer drawings, and more writing, which makes it harder for me to understand anything.
Dream.
Wind.
Squinting my eyes as though it’ll help me understand the words better, I flip to the next page. There are more long words that I do not understand, and my inability to read has never feltmore painfully inconvenient than it does now. I turn the page again.
