The Diminished

by Kaitlyn Sage Patterson

  “It’s astonishing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “The excess steam from the solar panel system is piped through the floors and around the pool, so the whole room stays comfortably warm,” Quill said. “There are bathing suits in the room over there. No one will notice if one goes missing. Meet you back here?”

  “Bathing suits?” I tried to keep the laughter out of my voice, but I couldn’t manage it.

  Quill blinked at me. “Did you not wear a suit when you dove for the temple?”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “I might write a letter to Anchorite Lugine just to let her know that such a thing exists. I can’t wait to see what this suit of yours looks like.”

  Without waiting for a response, I skipped across the warm tile floor and into the changing room. Turned out, a bathing suit was more or less the same as my underthings, but cut from a thicker fabric. I found a drawer full of the things and rifled through until I found a pair that looked as though it would fit. I shucked out of my clothes and slipped into the striped top and bottoms. Untying the ribbon that held my braid, I shook loose my curls and left the changing room.

  Quill hadn’t yet emerged, but my whole body tingled at the idea of swimming. I shifted from one foot to the other at the edge of the pool, trying to be patient, but I couldn’t wait.

  I dove.

  The water was startlingly warm after years of the freezing Penby harbor. It wasn’t hot, not like a bath, but instead the perfect temperature. Just cool enough that I could have floated there happily for the rest of my life, and warm enough that I’d never start to shiver. I kicked down to the tiled bottom of the pool and turned happy somersaults there. It wasn’t deep—maybe twice as deep as I was tall—and when I looked up through the water, I was startled to see stars overhead.

  I floated back up to the surface and lay on my back, staring out through the glass roof of the pool and marveling at the vastness of the sky overhead. I’d never seen stars like that. Even high on the temple roof in Penby, the lights of the city drowned most of the stars. But here, in the middle of the Tethys, the sky was awash with pinpricks of distant, ancient light.

  “How’s the water?”

  Quill’s voice startled me, and I flipped my body beneath the surface, suddenly, inexplicably shy. Everyone I’d ever dived with back in Penby had seen me in a lot less than this bathing suit, and mine was a body like any other, after all. Quill stood at the edge of the pool, hands on the ladder, and dipped a toe into the water. His bathing suit, like mine, was nothing more than a pair of undershorts, and the sheer beauty of his strong, lean muscles and smooth brown skin made my heart seize in my chest. A smattering of tight curls of hair sprang up across his muscular chest, and I caught a glimpse of a tattoo on the underside of one of his arms.

  Hot blushes burned across my cheeks, and I forced myself to look away. “You can’t possibly be serious,” I said teasingly. “Just jump.”

  “Not a chance. A body shouldn’t take a shock like that.”

  He eased himself down the ladder, and the long, elegant fingers of one hand kissed the top of the water, making little ripples that reached out to me like invitations. I needed to get myself together—no good could come of indulging myself in this flirtation.

  “You say that to the girl who spent the past fifteen years of her life swimming in the Penby harbor half the year.”

  Quill grinned at me over his shoulder and lowered himself another inch into the water. I had to do something. Had to stop staring. I swam toward him at the shallow end of the pool, made scoops of my hands and directed the biggest splash I knew how to make at his unsuspecting back. The water rushed over his head, soaking his long, twining locks and tensed shoulders. Quill froze, and a moment later, he let go of the ladder and flopped backward into the pool, laughing.

  “I’m going to get you for that, imp.”

  “Try and catch me,” I said, ducking under the water.

  I swam to the other side of the pool. Not so slowly that it would feel like taunting, but slow enough that Quill could catch up. He was a strong swimmer, but it would take a lot of practice for someone to be able to keep up with me after my years in the water. When I surfaced, I saw Quill draw his hands back to splash me, so I somersaulted toward the deeper end of the pool.

  I wanted him to catch me. I wanted it with every bone in my body, and I was a Dzallie-damned fool for it. Quill made me feel like I could be myself. Without apologies. Without restraint. Just me.

  A hand closed around my ankle, but I slipped out of his grasp. When he wrapped his fingers gently around my wrist, though, I let him pull me to the surface. His eyes, like glimmering amber, were something other than playful as he laced his fingers through mine.

  I knew better. I knew it wasn’t right or fair for me to let the bubbling flirtation between us go any further. But when he pulled me through the water toward him, I let him. And when he brushed my long, dark hair over my shoulder, I met his eyes. And when his arms went around my waist, I let him pull me close. I’d never kissed anyone before. Never imagined what it would be like to kiss someone. I never thought I’d have the chance.

  So when his lips met mine, damp with pool water, I didn’t expect the electric need that ran through me like a bolt of lightning. I didn’t expect to wrap my arms around his neck and bring him closer. I didn’t expect the greed and the power and the flush of joy that threatened to drown me. He was gentle and acquiescent, like a slow-burning fire, to my overwhelming, hungry desire.

  I never wanted to stop kissing him. I didn’t think I could.

  He held me close as he kissed me. His arms slicked around me, steadying, as I pressed him into the cool tile side of the pool. He drew back for a moment, only to lay a line of kisses from my jaw to my collarbone.

  I wanted things from him that I couldn’t even name. When I pressed my lips to his again, he let go of restraint, whirled us around so it was my back against the tile wall and drew me deeper into the kiss. Filled with that unfamiliar, fiery need, I wrapped my legs around his waist and gave myself over to the burn.

  Later, we lay side by side on deck chairs, wrapped in towels, our pruned hands interlocked, staring up through the glass ceiling at the sky. While we’d hauled ourselves apart before our scant bathing suits had come off, our wild, exploratory hands had roamed across the landscapes of each other’s bodies.

  The two halves of the moon hung huge and silver overhead, washing the room to shades of gray. I thought about the whales, those sleek gray creatures cavorting in the waves, racing the enormous ship. They were so playful, so happy. Seeing those whales leaping from the water had delighted me, and I found myself wishing I was as carefree as they were, flipping through the dark jewel of the ocean without a second thought for the monsters that lurked below.

  I would miss the ocean. More than anything from Alskad, I would miss the ocean when I made it to Ilor and sealed my terrible fate. But even more than the ocean, I would miss this feeling. I was so glad for this night—for the one, precious memory Quill had given me. I’d finally had one normal moment in a lifetime of standing out.

  “Will you miss the sea?” I asked.

  Quill turned to me. “I’ve never felt entirely comfortable on the water. Swimming’s a different thing than living on a ship. The fact that a ship made of iron can float—and not just float, but speed—across the sea feels like impossible magic. It doesn’t matter how much I understand the science of it, I can never quite forget the weight of the ship and the fact that there’s a whole, vast world filled with ferocious beasts we haven’t even begun to imagine beneath us. It could swallow us at any moment.”

  “You’re scared!” I teased, punching him lightly in the arm.

  He gave me a wry smile. “I’m smart enough to know I belong on land, is all. What about you? Will you miss it? You likely won’t end up close to the ocean. Most of the wealthy folk live farther inland
, close to the mountains.”

  “Yes,” I said simply. “I haven’t ever been away from the water. I’ll miss the challenge of diving and the way it sounds beneath the waves—but I won’t miss numb fingers or jellyfish stings. I already miss the seals, though.”

  “The seals?” Quill asked.

  I smiled. “They’re almost like puppies. The ones in the harbor grew up with us divers, and they’d get in the water and play with us while we dove.”

  Somewhere, far across the ship, the bell tolled three o’clock in the morning. I bit my lip, not wanting the night to end. I knew I could count my future with Quill in hours, minutes. Like this perfect night, he and I would be over far too soon.

  I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the deck chair. “We should get back. What if Mal’s gone looking for you?”

  Quill sat up slowly and pulled me across the gap between us and into his lap. “We should. But first...”

  He kissed me again, and this time, he was the lightning, and I was the fire, and together, we burned.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  BO

  Thamina and Birger left later that morning, due in large part to Gunnar’s and Karyta’s assurances that they would keep an eye on me. I heartily protested the necessity of such a measure, wondering the whole time if either of them had been bought, as well. If they had, it was likely that Karyta’s brother had been, too, and then I’d have to hire a new cook for fear of poisoning. I didn’t like to think of them in such a distasteful light, but Claes’s warning echoed in my head. I had to be more vigilant. More aware.

  A note arrived not an hour after they left.

  Dear Lord Ambrose,

  I’ve made several discoveries regarding the X.A. account we discussed earlier. However, I need you to verify some facts before I move forward. The necessary documents should be stored in your father’s study and labeled X.A. or G.O.A.T. Under no circumstances should they be given to a messenger, as they are the sole copies and cannot be lost. If you are able, please join me tomorrow at The Turnspit Dog, a tavern on West Riverton Road, between eight and ten in the evening. Dress plainly. You must go unrecognized. I am,

  Your most humble servant,

  Gerlene Vermatch

  While Gunnar took most of the afternoon to finish a long list of errands I’d concocted, I searched the study for a file labeled X.A. or G.O.A.T. and came up empty-handed. I spent ages tearing through my father’s desk drawers, to no avail, until I remembered that he’d had a safe built into the floor beneath his desk at our country estate. I lifted the rug and, sure enough, there was a safe, its face covered in dust.

  Luckily, the combination was the same as the other safe at our country house, and it only took me two tries to get it open—my hands were shaking too much on the first attempt. Inside, I found the file Gerlene needed, along with a small sack of gold drotts. I so rarely had need for coin, as every merchant in the city simply put my purchases on credit and billed the household later. Still, I might at some point want the anonymity of physical money, so I tucked the coins into my pocket and the file under my arm.

  Back in my room, I locked the door and settled myself onto the floor by my large, curtained bed. The papers inside the file were neatly organized into three sections, each sealed with wax and tied with a ribbon. Before I could begin to read, however, Gunnar knocked and announced dinner. Quick as I could, I slid the file and the money into a bag and tucked it away beneath my bed.

  I desperately wanted to know the contents of the documents, but I also felt the burning need to be near Claes with what little time he had left. So after dinner, I pulled the file from its hiding place and slipped down the hallway and into Claes’s room. He was asleep, the curtains drawn and his bed piled with blankets. He looked so gaunt. So pale. He was still refusing to come to meals and now would not even take broth or tea. I knew that he was ready for death, and I was glad for the fact that his door wasn’t locked, glad to spend this little time near him.

  I pulled an armchair up to his bed, opened the file and began to read.

  * * *

  Some time later, I rested my head against the back of the armchair, my mind reeling and my heart racing, like I was on the verge of a swoon.

  “Bo?” Claes’s voice was hardly more than a whisper. “You look as though the Shriven are knocking down your door.”

  I reached over and took his hand in mine.

  Claes shook his head and wheezed, “Tell me what’s the matter.”

  Everything that could have been, every lie I’d ever been told, every horrible moment since my father’s death flooded through my shattered, splintering heart—and all I wanted was to have someone else share the burden of what I’d just read.

  If it had been a month earlier, I would’ve put him off, knotted these secrets up inside me and lived with the uncertain ache of questions I could never ask. But between Claes’s gaunt face and his every rattling breath, I didn’t think he could possibly live much longer. And when he was gone... Well. I couldn’t bear to think of it. In a rush, I told Claes all about X.A., about the things I’d learned in my father’s journals and files. And while I couldn’t yet manage to voice my suspicions, I gave him all the pieces I’d put together myself, the facts that could only lead to one possible conclusion.

  When I finished, Claes brought my hand to his dry, cracked lips and said, “The gods work in mysterious ways.”

  I sucked in a breath. “How can you be so apathetic? Not two weeks ago, you said that you’d spent your whole life working to get me onto the throne. I’ve spent my whole life training for something that—” I choked on the words.

  “You cannot know the will of the gods, Bo,” Claes said with a sigh.

  The wire-taut anxiety that’d threatened to drown me flashed into anger, and it was all I could do to keep myself from punching through the damned bed frame. “When did you turn into such a flaming devotee?”

  “I’ll be meeting the gods soon, my love,” he whispered. “I should not want to offend them. You should consider it, you know—finding your way back to the temple. We’ve been too lax in our worship.”

  A moment later, his eyes fluttered shut and his breathing slowed. I left him there, furious at him, yet even angrier with myself for the rage I felt toward him, whom I had loved so well. I found myself unable to face the possibilities I’d laid before Claes, and in some ways, much as it made me loathe myself, it was easier to be mad at him than to sort through my own mess of a life.

  * * *

  With the next day came an endless stream of visitors, and I found myself unable to tear my eyes away from the mantel clock as the day wore on. Whenever I managed to get away to check on Claes, he was asleep, and by the time I managed to extract myself from the last of my distant relations, it was well after seven in the evening.

  I didn’t know the tavern Gerlene had named, The Turnspit Dog, but West Riverton Road was halfway across the city in Oak Grove. I’d never been there—the families in my social circle had moved closer to the fashionable parks long ago—but if I hailed a driver, I could be across the city in less than half an hour.

  When the clock struck quarter to nine, I returned to my room, where I stuffed Gerlene’s note into a bag with the files and money I’d found in my father’s safe and hoisted it all onto my shoulder. I hadn’t thought through how I would leave without alerting Gunnar or Karyta. They certainly wouldn’t allow me to go out unescorted at night, so I would have to sneak out. There was sure to be a servant posted by the front door, so that was an impossibility. I couldn’t go out the window; my room was on the fourth floor.

  I’d never been properly grateful for the freedom and solitude of my life in the countryside. In the city, with the endless duties at court, the social calls and the propriety required of my position as the crown prince, I was hardly ever alone. Taking a deep breath and hoping for the best, I crammed an old kni
t cap I’d found in the basket of servants’ winter things into my pocket, opened the door a crack and peered into the hallway.

  “Anything you need, sir?” Gunnar’s deep voice was slurred with sleep. He’d been slouched in the wing-back chair in the alcove outside my room, but leapt to his feet when he saw me.

  I clenched my teeth. With a watchdog like Gunnar, I’d never get out of the house in time. “Nothing, Gunnar. You can go to bed,” I said.

  “I don’t mind, sir. I’ll stay out here in case you need anything.”

  “I’m fine, really. Just looking for a book to lull me to sleep.” I gave him what I hoped was a disarming smile. “Why not get some rest? I’ll be asleep soon. Early morning and all. I’m exhausted. Please, go to bed.”

  Gunnar gave me a skeptical look, but bowed and said, “Thank you, sir. Sleep well.”

  After Gunnar disappeared into the servants’ stairwell, I closed my bedroom door and watched five minutes tick slowly by on the clock on my mantel. I put my ear to the door and listened. Silence. I called Gunnar’s name softly, and then again, a little louder. When no response came, I eased my door open again and crept into the dimly lit hallway.

  The fourth floor was quiet. I snuck down the stairs, sticking close to the walls, where dark alcoves and potted plants might hide me should the need arise. I paused on the second-floor landing, peering down over the railing. As I’d expected, one of the servants was waiting by the front door, in case of a summons from the palace or some sort of emergency. The house’s main staircase had been designed to descend dramatically into the front hall, so I couldn’t go that way without being seen.

  The grandmother clock in the hallway chimed nine o’clock. That only gave me an hour to get out and across town. I took a deep breath and scurried to the servants’ stairs. I prayed to my chosen god, Gadrian the Firebound, that no one would be on them and eased the door open. I glanced up and down. Empty, thank the gods. I sprinted down the stairs two at a time, slid through the door at the bottom and dashed across the hall into the sitting room.