Page 23 of The Searching Songbird

He felt his own lips curve up in an answering smile as he led them down the length of the deck, warmth seeping through his arm and into his chest from where her hand rested against his sleeve. Trust, yes, that's exactly what he needed, and, if he wanted to gain her trust, he'd need to get close to her. Spend time with her. Certainly, he'd need to stop avoiding her, at the very least.

Not that he wanted to spend time with her, of course. He was just doing his job.

That's all it was.

Chapter Twelve

“Whaddya say, lass, ye ready to rattle some floor boards?”

Dom sat perched on top of a barrel in the center of a wide, open space at the bow of the ship, fiddle in hand as the rest of the crew draped themselves here and there around the edges. A bottle was being passed around, and a few of them had started a game of dice. Lily looked around at the rag-tag group and smiled as her eyes met Draven's. He was leaning against a stack of crates, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched her and Dom take their places in the center.

“I'm ready when you are,” she replied, dragging her gaze away from Draven's and giving her tambourine a little shake.

“Ol' Tom Bones and the Cuckold's Wife?” Dom suggested as he positioned his fiddle between his chin and shoulder.

“Keeping it classy, I see,” Lily teased. “Sure, why not? We are surrounded by sailors. I doubt you could find a more appropriate audience outside of a tavern.”

Dom chuckled. “Yer my kinda lady, ye know that? Alright, then, let's give 'em somethin' to stomp their feet to. He slid his bow across the fiddle strings, letting loose with a lively tune.

Lily waited for him to finish the intro before adding her voice with the first verse. As with many of the tavern songs and sea chanteys she knew, this one called for the low, sultry tones of an alto, as opposed to the clear soprano that most people associated her with. Either Dahlia or Rosemary had always taken the lead on the lower songs, but, the truth was, she could do them all. Low, high, sultry, or sweet. Whatever the song called for, she could adapt her voice to meet it.

The crew cheered and whistled their appreciation, calling for more before the last notes had even been struck. Dom immediately led into another song, raising his eyebrows in Lily's direction as he waited to see if she knew the tune. She grinned in response before launching into “Black-Eyed Susan.” He smirked, mouthing “too easy,” and as soon as the song was finished, he picked up another, more obscure one.

Lily just smiled, her eyes sparkling with restrained laughter. “Too easy,” she called out over the fiddle, recognizing the intro to “Dead Man's Dance.” Dom chuckled, dipping his bald head toward her in defeat. They played together for a full hour, with several of the men joining in on the choruses or beating out a rhythm on one of the many barrels that lined the deck.

The stars were out in their full glory by the time Dom finally set his fiddle to the side. He threw an arm around Lily's shoulder and pulled her in for a side-hug.

“Ye sure know yer music, lass,” he said, giving her a quick squeeze before letting her go. “I don' think I've ever heard anythin' so fine in all me life, an' I've heard a lot.”

“Only because I had such a fine accompanist,” she countered.

“An' I think I'd best have me a pint 'fore ye really get me head turned.” He grabbed his fiddle and headed over to a group of sailors who were standing around a barrel of ale, frothy beverages half-drunk in their cups. They let out a boisterous cheer as he approached and made short work of finding him a glass of his own. Lily laughed as she watched him finish off the entire pint in one long gulp. She was still smiling as she made her way down the railing, moving far enough down the starboard side that the sound of the noisy sailors became more of a gentle hum mixed with the wind and waves.

Just two more days until we arrive in Flores. Not even, really, seeing as we're scheduled to arrive by mid-morning.

She strained her eyes, trying to make out the shadow of the coast that lay to their right. Was that Eldour, or had they already moved past the border into Roshka? Her grip on the railing tightened as she thought about what awaited her there, and the smile slipped off her face.

“You really do have a remarkable voice, you know.”

Lily let out a yelp of surprise at the sound of Draven's deep voice. She turned to face him, one hand gripping her chest as she waited for her heart rate to slow down. “Would it kill you to make a little noise when you're walking, instead of slinking around like a cat?”

“Yes, actually, it would,” he replied, an amused smirk peeking out from beneath his beard.

He took a place on the rail beside her, his gaze skimming over the water briefly before turning to settle on her face. “And I meant what I said. You're an amazing singer.”

She felt her cheeks warm and hoped he wouldn't notice in the dark. “Thanks. Hopefully, the people in Flores will agree with you.”

“Is that why you're going there? To sing?”

She sucked on her lower lip, giving him a quick sideways glance before looking back out over the water. Was it too soon to mention her other reason? The main reason for her journey to Flores?

“That's a part of it,” she hedged. “They're supposed to have quite the music scene there.”

“Have you ever been?”

“I've traveled through Roshka, with my family, but we never passed through Flores. My brother-in-law, David, has, though. He's traveled all over studying music and collecting songs from different regions. He's very talented.”

Draven shifted beside her and the muscles in his jaw seemed to tense. He cleared his throat. “And now it's your turn. You must be pretty excited.”