“Is there a problem with the boat?”
She lifted a hand to his face, and for a second he thought she might cup his jaw, might smooth her fingers over his cheeks. But then she pressed her palm to his nose and pushed him back. He had to bite his lips to keep from grinning too hard, even as he stumbled at the strength behind the shove.
“No.”
“Then what is the problem?”
He watched as her face changed and Nes disappeared before his eyes, some horrific memory yanking her down to her own depths. He took her hand, thumb slipping inside to caress her clammy palm, his fingers skimming her knuckles until he felt the pulse at her wrist. It could have been a stone skipping over the water the way it tripped through her veins.
Toran felt the urge to smooth it out, to do anything to pull her back to the surface.
“I can’t swim.”
The words were weak and muffled, and he wasn’t sure they’d come from her lips.
“You can’t swim?”
“Don’t make me repeat it,” she hissed, that bite returning. “Why do you think I live in the only city sector without canals?”
If he were honest, he’d thought she didn’t have a choice. “We won’t leave the boat.”
She shook her head and shoved her hands in the pockets of her skirt. Through the fabric, he could see how her fingers danced, fidgeting with something she kept deep inside.
“We made a deal.” He nodded to her pocket, to the ring he was sure her fingers continuously turned over. “We’re in this together. I can’t go without you.”
It wasn’t a lie. He hadn’t been out on the water since Loriana drowned.He didn’t want to face the ocean alone. He knew it was irrational, but he had visions of finding Loriana’s bloated body floating on the surface. And, for some reason he couldn’t name, the thought of Nes being there with him made it all easier to swallow.
Nes huffed out a breath. “What if the boat tips? That thing looks about as reliable as a one-wheeled carriage.”
He snorted. “It’s held more than three people before.”
“How?”
“We’ll be all right. The ocean is calm today and, if we do somehow tip, I won’t let you drown.”
“Even if that means drowning yourself?”
He stopped smiling at that. He’d seen her fear but hadn’t realized how deep it ran. “You’re really that scared?”
“I’m not scared,” she shot back, chin high. “I’m just keen on survival.”
So were they all.
Toran studied her. “If I die,” he said, “I promise I’ll save you first.”
“Careful there, Captain,” she said. “Deals can be broken, but promises are meant to be kept. I fully expect you to pay up.”
“I will. Should the time come.”
She raised a brow at him as she pushed past. Her shoulder brushed his arm, and she slowed at the contact.
He watched as Nes climbed into the boat on shaky legs. For all her bravado, she couldn’t seem to hide her body’s reaction. She sat in the bow on the small triangular bench while he settled onto the long one at the stern, Genna in the middle.
Genna gently pushed them away from the dock, and they drifted out into the open water. The boat didn’t rock, didn’t tilt. It bobbed on the surface as Genna began to row. Nes hunched down, clinging to the wood shaping the rowboat.
The ocean was quiet, but it was not soundless. Their boat glided along the water, ripples butterflying in their wake, a softshh, shhunfurling with every pull of the oars.
Leaving the docks, they headed for the sloping rock wall beneaththe castle. The seawall rose high above them, the tops of the rock curled out as if trying to mimic the waves. The castle sitting atop the stone, with its dark blue spires and beautifully painted stained glass, looked like a palace built for the Goddess, Nephele. It loomed above them as they rowed closer.
