by Lisa Daniels
Wait, she realized with a cold rush of horror. Didn’t he recently lose his family…? Oh, sky curse her, she was about as subtle as a brick. She knew about that, yet decided to completely forget about it and speak ill of the dead.
What a genius. She glowered, and saw him now sitting next to Rukia and the scholarly crew member, and they seemed to be having a lot more fun than her. A small knot of jealously stirred. Irrational, but there all the same. She turned her attention back to the shifting skies and the land below, wondering how long it’d take before they reached the seas. Before they finally crossed the border into Zamorka.
A part of her hoped that they wouldn’t even make it that far. That something would turn up, forcing them to end their journey early. But she also somewhat understood the need to look into a potential cure for the Creeping Rot. Maybe there were some answers in Zamorka. Or maybe they’d just all die, and only the bones would be left to tell their tale.
She slouched back downstairs to see what Alex and the rest were getting up to, wondering if they’d progressed to arms and legs yet, or whether Alex had finally run out of magic.
A shame magic couldn’t quite fix her big mouth.
Chapter Four– Janus
It didn’t take very long before Janus decided he hated sailing. Being stuck on a wooden prison, as luxurious as they’d tried to make it, still felt horrid when big, sloshy rains pelted the deck or found ways to leak down the stairs along the corridors. During the first proper storm they had, both air witches were in the alcove, splitting duties, he presumed, so that one helped protect them from the brunt of the weather, and the other focused on getting them through it. Neither focused on keeping them particularly warm. Or stopping the rain sleeting their deck.
Worst came the hailstones, when they drifted high. Those tiny white bastards hit like rocks, and the whole deck rattled with the sound of impact. Hiding inside his cabin room did nothing to stop the noise—he still heard it like an incessant ticking clock, making it hard to sleep. He also wanted to shift into dragon form for some freedom, but the captain didn’t want any of them hopping off, even if they could fly. If a sudden storm or hurricane hit them, or worse, then there might be a high possibility of losing someone.
“Saw it happen once,” Captain Eswick said, his mustache twitching as he spoke. “One of the serpent lords, telling me that we’d be fine, he could easily land back on the deck if he wanted. And we flew… and the barometer went crazy. Sudden pressure drop. Next thing we knew, we were in the mouth of the underworld itself, bits of wood flying everywhere. Never saw that lord again.”
“And what was the lord’s name?” Janus had politely inquired, with a mind to background check the story.
“Lord Feylen,” Eswick said, “from Feylok Island. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”
Come to think of it, Janus did hear about someone from Feylok Island dying on a trip. He didn’t know the specifics, however, as it was before his time, gathering connections and expanding his wealth. People liked the brutal efficiency of the Ruthe family. He had cousins, uncles, aunts, but didn’t speak much to them. But they all carried that family trademark of working for their pay.
“Yes, I’ve heard about him. I’m surprised you were the captain then.”
“Oh, I wasn’t a captain. I used to be a deckhand back in those days,” Eswick said, smiling. His peppery hair looked as though tiny snowflakes had landed within the black. Janus accepted his words for now, though a part of him still wanted to break free anyway. He doubted people would allow a dragon to sprawl out upon the deck.
Getting caught out in storms within open sky, however, wasn’t something he liked experiencing. It made the Elegant feel like a badly put together collection of wood and metal, and he just hoped the air witches could take away the brunt of the storm, and easily manage the part they did get affected by.
He also remembered how both air witches wanted no one talking to them, no one interrupting them. Because it took all of their energy to prevent the storm from messing with the ship.
At least they collected a lot of electricity, he supposed.
The landscape below them was invisible in the clouds now, but the captain seemed confident of their direction. “When we cross the seas, we want to make sure we’re high above Zamorka, so nothing sees us coming in, if possible. We’re so high up in the death zone now that we need the witches working day in, day out, to make sure we don’t succumb to oxygen deprivation and thinning air pressure.”
Death zone. What a terrifying concept. A section of sky that even he couldn’t penetrate. The air witch on duty now, Rukia, was reading a book and chewing on some kind of protein bar. That didn’t seem safe to Janus. Doing something when one lapse in concentration might kill them. But they didn’t die, so she obviously could handle some distraction.
He felt pretty sure that his parents would be angry at him for wasting so much money on a fool’s errand. Even with the knowledge that the disease would take them, and many others.
His first parents, though, the ones who were taken by the disease, quarantined on Serpent Isle… they would want this. Just like how they agreed to be isolated for everyone else’s safety—they would applaud him for taking the trip, risking his own safety to secure the lives of countless others.
Two sets of parents. Two types of lessons.
But who was right?
Meridas sauntered onto the deck, his face slightly flushed as if he’d spent his time laughing or being embarrassed, and he seemed to breathe easier in the fresher air.
“They’re playing Daggers and Demons downstairs right now,” Meridas said with a broad smile. “You’re missing out on quite the fun. Or are you concerned you’ll lose your tough man act if you’re seen reveling among the commoners?”
“You’re cheerful yourself for a man who might not make it out of their trip alive. Considering we are currently dealing with the unknown.”
“The point of us going into the unknown is so that it can be known. That’s kind of why we make expeditions in the first place. And why we’re bringing scholars.”
“And who has ever made it to Zamorka?” Janus held Meridas’ gaze, witnessing the flush in his cheeks disappearing.
“Us,” Meridas said. “Along with two people who can trace their bloodline back to the place. And I don’t exactly see anyone else lining up for the job, do you?”
“No,” Janus grudgingly agreed. There wasn’t much more to say after that. He left the people on deck to whatever it was they wanted to do, and made his way below to the kitchen galleys, casting his attention along the open spaces in the ship until his eyes settled upon Evelyn, also taking time out in the galley to eat some stew.
He didn’t know what to make of her. An air witch, sure. A talented one, about as apathetic of the trip as he was. And one who seemed to have little to no regard for his own background. He used people’s emotions as a playing point all the time in his business dealings… but something about how easily she’d dismissed his parents’ morals got on his nerves. He supposed he was more bruised about it than he wanted to admit.
People expected a certain thing out of him. They pounced on weakness. He knew that. He’d have to take some careful measures to make sure something like that didn’t contain any sting to his persona. She glanced up from her bowl, noticed him, then held her gaze in an almost defiant way, rather than look down as someone contrite might do.
Some of that anger stirred in him again, even though it’d been nearly a week since their conversation on deck. Before the storms and the wet and the dull moments of sailing that sent him almost mad with boredom.
So he strode right up to her. He didn’t know what he was going to say, or what about this woman vexed him so. “Bored of watching body parts being cut off?”
She paused in eating her stew, wrinkling her nose. She had all her hair tied back into a fluffy black cloud, and she didn’t appear too impressed with his comment. “What do you want?”
“To talk to you.”
“Abo
ut?”
He gritted his teeth against the hostility. “You. And me.”
“What about us?” Now a little smirk appeared upon her lips, enough to make him want to slap it off.
“Is it me who has been avoiding you the past week, or is it you?”
This gave her pause in her attitude. “Me, I think,” she said then, and he raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. He thought she’d accuse him. Because he was on a level. After all, he did run out on her on a not-yet-finished discussion. She pushed her stew aside, the steel of the spoon glinting in the orblight. “I figured I touched a nerve. Which was surprising, given the reputation you hold. But at the same time… I was thoughtless. Obviously, the things that happened on Ruthen Isle compelled you to… be here.”
He relaxed slightly. “This is intended to be an apology?”
“I’m sorry,” she replied, but didn’t take her eyes off him.
“Accepted.” He drummed his fingers upon the wooden table she ate from. “Do you know of the fall of Serpent Isle?”
Evelyn nodded. “Not well. I know it was the main island of the dragon shifters. And it was struck by the Creeping Rot. People hoped the Rot had died with the island.”
“I was one of many children evacuated from that island. My birth parents died on it, and the Ruthes took me in and gave me a future. They may be many things, but clearly there was some kindness there, to adopt a child to take on their name.”
Gevard and Yera Ruthe. Stern, with faces rugged and set as if always expecting attack. Giving him chores, but teaching him how to do them properly first. They never assumed he could automatically do something. They always gave him a chance before punishment.
“You must have hated them as a child,” she said, before wincing.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I did. I wanted my real parents back. Not these imposters. It took a while for us to really warm up as a family unit together. But I’m glad we did in the end. Being here… it’s trying to honor all my parents.” He swallowed a lump, feeling slightly stupid for having realized this fact only just now. He also felt stupid, because once again, he was revealing far too much to a total stranger. One who he wasn’t sure had even earned the right to listen.
He did, somewhere, want someone to know him. And strangers were a great sounding board when they were completely removed from politics and the everyday life he endured.
“I get that. I mean, I can’t relate in that way completely, but I get that need to want to do right by them, somehow.” She gave him a tired smile. “Can’t be too easy, being Janus Ruthe.”
He made sure to sit opposite her now, tucking the chair in with minimal scraping. He pulled out a little bottle of Black Fire, and offered her the special whisky. She smiled, but declined. “Not my thing, but thanks, anyway.”
“Can I get you something instead?” he asked, unscrewing the cap and taking a small swig of the whisky himself. “Coffee? Tea?”
“No coffee,” she said adamantly. “I’m quite the fan of water. Which, as you can see, I already have.”
“How boring,” he said. “Drinks are usually a great ice breaker.”
“They’re bad for you,” she replied, “and I’d rather not have anything impairing me when it comes to air witch duties. Unless you don’t mind blacking out for a moment or two because there’s no oxygen.”
“Noted,” he said dryly. “Do you even spend much of your time on land?”
“Sure. Visiting exotic places, like Birdfoot Island...” And she was off, suddenly animated, eager to talk about all the places she had been. Which was a lot more places than he’d heard of. Tiny, isolated floating islands which traded all manner of strange goods, from animals to delicacies that people paid so much gold for.
He felt a tiny bit jealous of her travels, of experiencing so much, despite the fact that she seemed much younger to him. He straddled the ripe age of thirty-four himself, but she couldn’t have been older than twenty-seven.
“You know, I’m a little envious of you air witches,” he said, after she finished talking about her last run, with the colorful birds capable of mimicking human speech. “I’m a dragon. I can shift into a creature capable of flight, and yet I haven’t seen nearly as much of the world as you have. All these adventures, riding through storms… my ‘travels’ consisted of visiting the other isles and forging connections for my family, for the most part. Or reminding people of the ties they promised.”
“It’s not all fun and games,” she said with a gentle smile. “Some trips are complete failures. Others are embarrassing and boring and people rub each other the wrong way. It can get long and boring when you have nothing but open sky and beautiful weather. But I’d take long and boring over short and devastating.”
Janus snorted. “Swapping tales is how sailors stave off boredom?”
“Yes. Stories. Fake stories, true stories, scary ones and funny ones—they’re evening entertainment. There’s not much gambling because there isn’t much money between the sailors to pass around. People do think of bringing games, but usually they get trashed in a fit of rage at some point, because someone can’t handle losing too well.”
Somehow, Janus could see that happening with the sailors of the Elegant, if the scholars and deckhands ended up mixing together for games. He knew the quartermaster was the one who hoarded some of the more expensive entertainment, to only be released upon request, and returned the moment they were finished with. Perhaps he could join in some gambling games, and offer large sums of money to entice people into it. Might be marginally more amusing than this whole journey so far. “Perhaps I should gamble with you, instead. You have money of your own to put forward, yes?”
One of her eyebrows lifted, and she casually sipped at her drink. He noticed how clean and uniform her nails were. Clearly she enjoyed hygiene. “I have some, yes. But not nearly as much as you. What’s the gamble on? A game? Daggers and Demons?”
He grinned. “How quickly it’ll take before we decide we need a private room together to… explore our differences.”
She hastily put her drink down and wiped her mouth. “Wait. You’re interested in me?”
“Why not? You’re a pretty girl. Mind of your own, interesting life… and here on a mission that may or may not be dangerous. I’d be blind not to notice something about you.”
“Ha.” She gave a strange grin, and he couldn’t quite register the expression on her face. “I’m sorry. I thought… someone like you would not exactly be compatible with someone like me.”
The words had come out of him on a whim, but when they left his mouth, they helped explain just why he focused so much attention on her. He sure seemed to be surprising himself more and more lately. Doubtless this wasn’t the time and place, but boredom… well, that was a good excuse, right? Boredom.
“Maybe not,” he said. “Or maybe we’ll surprise each other.”
Her smile grew wider, more mischievous. “Been a while for you, has it?” She leaned forward, propping both elbows on the table. “Me, too.”
His smile froze, as he hadn’t quite expected that response from her. “Oh.” What should he say to that? “You seem more into this than I thought.”
She shrugged in response. “I’ve not had a boyfriend in a long time. I’ve had a few… quick relationships, but I don’t want to have a relationship with a crew member, and people don’t like having to wait for me when I go on my trips.”
“You wouldn’t want a relationship with a crew member?”
“No. Can you imagine what would happen if it didn’t work out for us? Being stuck together on the ship? One of us would need to leave. It’s not worth the tension.”
His heart picked up in pace, enough to have him rub his hands on his knees, because he became more aware of his body, of the sweat now pooling in his palms. “You don’t consider me a crew member?”
“Not like the captain and the deckhands, no. You’re a rich guest who has his own reasons for being here. This might be your ship, but you never
intended to sail it yourself. Did you?”
He matched her smile, feeling an almost wicked delight boil through him. “How astute. Do you take up the bet, then?”
“No.” She popped the word, running a hand through her curly black hair. “I’m in the habit of betting to win, if I had to.”
It took him a moment to realize the implications of her statement. “You don’t intend to win this bet?”
Her leg lightly brushed his under the table, sending a surge of delight into his stomach. “That’s right. So perhaps you’d better bet on something else.”
Heat rushed through his body, igniting all his senses at once, making him hyperaware of everything happening. The way she breathed, and how her fur-covered chest moved with each breath. The way her lips parted slightly as she smiled and her dark eyes reflected the orblight all around, so she had several chips of light within them. The way she leaned forward, all interest, clearly focused on the topic.
He’d had women interested in him before. He brushed them aside, usually. But for some reason, having this air witch stare at him in such a way did all sorts of things to his insides. “How about a bet to see who will kiss whom first?”
She considered it for a moment. “That’s a game I can get with. I’m in. If I win, and you kiss me first—one thousand gold circs, I think.”
He smiled. “Deal. Do you have the money to counter it, or is there something else you can pay with?”
“A thousand is pushing it for me. Perhaps I’ll think of something else.”
“Deal.” He reached his hand out for her to shake. When their palms touched, it felt like a promise of something more exciting. Already, his mind flicked to the warm notion of them tucked in a bed in darkness somewhere, hands touching other areas of skin, all without their lips touching.
He stood up to go and get some food at last, tucking his little bottle away. She gave him a smirk and ran her tongue ever so slowly over her bottom lip. This will make the trip much more interesting…
Chapter Five – Evelyn