She huffed, but moved to the door. “Fine.” The cabin door creaked as it swung shut.
I gestured with my hand for Zevrial to continue with his story.
“You were asking when I’d give you the Skinscript you wanted. I told you that I didn’t have any Starshell ink with me,” he said. “You weren’t convinced. You tried to frisk me. That’s how my pants wound up unbuttoned.”
I doubted that even drunk I would have believed he’d hide Starshell ink down his pants. “And then?”
“You tried to kiss me again.”
That I could believe. I couldn’t believe that I’d forgotten it, even in a drunken haze.
“I didn’t feel like tasting your vomit, so I stopped you. But you were unruly,” he explained. His eyebrows lowered, voice lowering an octave. “I don’t take advantage of the vulnerable, and you were completely wasted. But I’m still a man, and you were on my lap, trying to kiss me with your hand down my pants. Even if you were being quite clumsy.” His gaze pierced straight through me. “That’s around when you found my father’s knifeand decided that if I wouldn’t take you, you’d take it instead, and run.”
Why would I take his knife? Yet another unsolved mystery of the intoxicated brain. “Did you get it back?”
He held up a jagged knife, flicking it with his thumb to make a snicking noise. “I would have outrun you even if you hadn’t had that ridiculous dress on. You really don’t remember?”
Soupy fragments of the night before flashed before me. “I remember singing on the table. And you grabbing me off it.” That memory stood out between the gaps of nothingness, his large warm hands wrapped around me as he pulled me toward him. The bartender yelling something at me. “Not much else.” I leaned back. “Sarina’s right though, I shouldn’t bunk close to you.”
He shook his head. “We both know what this is. You’re lying to yourself if you think a few extra cabins between us is going to make a difference.”
“I don’t even know you,” I gestured around the room. “I don’t know your favorite food, what kind of music you like, or even how old you are.”
“Braised pork, anything with a catchy melody, and twenty three,” he said. “But none of that is what matters. You know me, just like I know you.” He held up his fingers and began ticking them down. “You’re determined, stubborn, and absurdly curious. Have a low endurance for running and a high endurance for squabbling. You can’t handle your liquor, you’re anxious just about always, and you care deeply about those closest to you.”
“I’m not anxious all the time.”
Zevrial raised an eyebrow, tapping his chest above his heart. “Beg to differ. Your fear tried to strangle me while you were crossing the gangway.”
My fear, not his. I remembered being unable to calm myself down at graduation. His anger.Shit.
“We’re sharing more than just a heartbeat.” I kept my voice low in case Corra was close enough to the door to overhear.
“I don’t know when it started,” Zevrial confessed. “But yes. It seems some of my emotions are bleeding over to you when we’re nearby, and vice versa.”
That wasn’t good. We still didn’t know anything about this Skinscript we shared, and it was evolving. “Do other Skinscripts change over time?”
He thought about it for a moment. “Sometimes with practice, you can hone them. With Agility you might run slightly faster initially, and if you keep using it, increase your speed more substantially. I knew someone who used their Skinscript enough to reach its upper limits.”
“But a glyph doesn’t change the magic it bestows.” I had to hear him say it.
He paused, mulling it over. “No, they don’t. But I did notice this.” He tugged down the edge of his sleeve until I could see the Skinscript on his chest. The lines near the middle were longer, and a series of smaller whorls looked like they’d appeared around the edges. “The glyph changed.”
I hadn’t bothered to look at mine since the first few nights after it appeared. Pulling down my own neckline, I peered down. Sure enough, my Skinscript had morphed as well. It was still identical to Zevrials, and different from when it first materialized.
Super. This Skinscript was wild, unknown magic that didn’t follow any normal rules. It appeared by itself without Starshell ink, imprinted on two people at once, and changed its magic over time. Next it would grow horns and gore me.
Even if we knew what the glyph meant, it could mean something else in another few months when it transformed into an entirely different glyph.
The Skinscript was changing, and it could change us with it. Would I even recognize myself a year from now? I stiffened.
“All the more reason for you to stay close,” he said, breaking me out of my musings. “We don’t know how it might manifest next. And Sarina can’t help you if it changes again. On top of that, you’ve been identified and branded as a troublemaker.” He stared pointedly at the Luck glyph on my forearm. “We need to find out why. And based on the Skinscript they gave Sarina, she’s been targeted too. Being close to her might even be why you were singled out. Or she might’ve been targeted because of her nearness to you. Staying by her won’t make things better for you.”
“And she’s not the only questionable character you keep around. I felt most of what you did during the final trial. I think that’s when these shared emotions started.” He moved toward me, gripping my chin in one strong hand. “And whatever happened during that trial, you’re going to tell me.”
Stubborn pride had me crossing my arms and preparing to argue that his own character might be the most questionable of everyone around me, but he kept going before I could.
“Because you were terrified. More than the test by itself could have done. You’re not safe, and that means neither am I. We need to stay close until we figure out this glyph.”
