by Tracey Ward
I shake my head, pushing myself up into a sitting position against the headboard. I’m careful not to use my left arm. I’m certain my shoulder couldn’t take the strain.
He sits down by my legs, his body blocking the door behind him. He feels so much bigger now that he’s close. Broader. I feel small, almost fragile sitting here next to him, and I wonder if I’ve made a mistake. Who is this guy really? Is there anyone around to hear me if I scream? Would anyone really care?
I lick my lips nervously as he opens his hand. Inside it are two black elastic bands, each one with a small, smooth stone adhered to the inside. I don’t know what they are, but I’m pretty sure he can’t kill me with them.
“What are those?” I ask curiously.
“Acupressure bands. There’s a point on the inside of your wrist that can be pressed to reduce nausea.”
I smile skeptically. “You’re joking.”
“No, I’m not.”
I watch him, waiting for him to break. Finally he chuckles.
“It works. I swear,” he promises. “I’ve tried it.”
“When did you need it?”
“The fishing boats. The first time I went out on one I hung over the side losing my lunch the entire time. I couldn’t get used to it. A guy in the souk sold me these and swore they’d help. I had almost no hope they’d work, but even a little hope was enough to get me to try it.”
“You couldn’t handle being on the water?” I ask, taunting him.
He laughs. “Asks the girl who can’t walk on land.”
“That’s brutal.”
“Don’t dish it if you can’t take it.” He holds up the bands expectantly. “You ready to try them?”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Give your wrist, underside up. Clench your fist tightly.”
I do as I’m told. He takes my hand in his, quickly pushing one of the bands down. Using two of his fingers he measures out the spot on my wrist in the tender space below the joint. When he presses the small stone to the spot I’m surprised by how warm it is. It’s borrowed heat from his hands, hands that are engulfing mine and burning them up until I feel like my entire body is sweating from head to toe.
He pushes down on the stone firmly.
“Ouch,” I gasp.
“Sorry,” he mutters, adjusting the band to be more secure. “I forgot to warn you it was going to hurt a little to find it. But that means it’s in the right spot. Are you ready for the other one?”
“More ready than I was for that one.”
He grins without looking at me. His eyes are on my hands, swapping them out and deftly pushing the second band down my other wrist. He repeats the process, asking me to tell him when it hurts for him to push on the stone.
“There,” I tell him when I feel the dull pain. “That’s it.”
He adjusts the band again, his eyes intent on my arm. It gives me a chance to study his face. His skin. It’s so much lighter than mine but it doesn’t look sickly the way I thought it would. His complexion is smooth, unlined even though he’s a few years older than I am. His features have that same rounded feel to them that the other Gaian’s have, but his jaw is square and strong. He’s handsome in a way. Not the way I’m used to, not like the boy with the beautiful hands and the ear for music, but in his own way there’s something appealing about him. Maybe it’s his grin or his eyes. They’re very honest. Blunt and blue and round.
“Do I pass inspection?” he asks without raising his head.
I blush furiously at having been caught staring for the second time today. “You’ll do. I guess.”
“That’s flattering,” he chuckles, turning his eyes to mine. He’s still holding my wrist. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You’re beautiful.”
My blush deepens as my heart hammers in my chest. It makes my stomach flip and I wonder if it’s nerves or nausea. My body is so turned around. My brain so lost in flight that it doesn’t know where to land.
He squeezes my wrist once before letting go. My skin feels cold without him.
“You look like you’re going to be sick again. I probably shouldn’t have said that,” he says apologetically. “But the weight of your compliment threw me off balance. I’m not used to that kind of flattery.”
“Neither am I.”
He stands slowly, backing away several steps. “Leave the bands on for a while. It won’t help instantly but if you give it time it should take the edge off.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Liv.”
I feel myself smile when he says my name. His accent is strange, making my own name sound foreign on his tongue. He’s speaking the same language but he adds emphasis to words I’d normally roll right over. I imagine the other boy and the doctor did too, but I didn’t notice. I wasn’t paying attention. Not the way I am right now as I watch him grin one last time and turn toward the door.
“Wait!” I blurt out anxiously.
“What’s wrong?”
The words are hard to come by. The thought has formed in my mind even though I haven’t put a voice to it yet. I haven’t wanted to because part of me knows the answer, but I have to know. I have to ask.
“How many other survivors are there?”
His face clouds, his broad shoulders falling.
My hopes fall with them.
“None,” he answers reluctantly. “There have been… others, but you’re the only survivor.”
You’re the only survivor.
The entire crew. The staff. The families.
My mother.
My brother.
All gone.
All dead.
My eyes clench shut against the truth. I release a breath, emptying my chest. My lungs. My heart. It’s too much. Too many lives, too big a loss. I can’t stomach it, and yet for the first time since I woke up I don’t feel like vomiting. I don’t feel like anything.
There’s a hand on my arm. It’s warm and soft. Large. Strange. It’s no one I know because everyone I knew, everyone I loved, is drowned at the bottom of the frozen sea. They’re in the dark, in the night.
And they’re never coming back.
“I’m so sorry,” he tells me. “Did you have family on the boat?”
I nod stiffly. “My mother and Gav, my broth—“ I can’t hold my composure if I finish that sentence, so I abandon it entirely. I open my eyes, gesturing to the door. “Can you go? Please? I… please just go.”
“Yeah, of course. But if you need anything—“
“I won’t. Thank you.”
I watch him as he leaves. I’m counting the seconds until he’s gone, until I can crumble to nothing and no one because that’s what I am. I’m no one. I have no allies, no family, no friends. There’s no one left in the world who knows me or loves me. There’s no one left that I love. That I even know.
“What’s your name?” I blurt out desperately.
The guy hesitates, his dark eyes surprised but sweet. “Easton.”
I nod jerkily. “It’s nice to meet you, Easton.”
“It’s nice to meet you too, Liv.”
I smile weakly by way of reply.
When he’s gone, a small nod and a compassionate glance his only goodbye, I slowly sink down into the bed and hug the pillow tightly to my body. I pull it out from under my head and press it against my face. I use it to muffle the broken sob that bursts from my throat, aching and angry as I cry for the family I’ve lost, the people who sailed on without me, and the year I may spend here in this cave without a friend to my name.
The pillow holds the staccato breaths I breathe into it, whimpers echoing in my ears and bursting hot against my face. They rebound off the soft linen, wafting back on the crisp scent of apples.
Chapter Nine
Gray
I’m only the beach an hour before I’m relieved. Krysan shows up to take my place, telling me Captain Fuller wants me back on duty with the girl.
“Great,” I mutter. I slap him on the shoulder as I pass him, heading up the beach. “Have fun, man. This detail’s a blast.”
“Hey, hold up. That’s not it.”
“What’s up?”
“The souk crew is back. Easton’s with them.”
I feel myself sag with relief. “He’s home?”
“Safe and sound,” Krysan confirms happily. “Captain said you could take a twenty to go find him and say hey, but then it’s back to babysitting.”
“His words or yours?”
He grins. “Mine, but his words were worse. He says you can’t handle anything more.”
I curse under my breath, clenching my jaw tight.
“Yeah, I know,” Krysan sympathizes. “I thought it was kind of harsh.”
“Yeah, but it’s not wrong.”
“What happened to you?”
I dig at my shirt, lifting the hem to show him the dark bruise on my side. He whistles when he sees it.
“I took an oar in the rib.” I drop my shirt, tucking the hem back into my pants.
“When you were saving that girl?”
“I didn’t save anyone.”
“You didn’t bring an Eventide back in the boat with you? That’s the story that’s going around.”
“No, I did, but…” I take a breath, avoiding his expectant eyes. “She was there. In the water. I grabbed her. That’s it.”
“Yeah, you saved her. When Ashley told me the story I thought she had the wrong brother,” he carries on, smiling obliviously. “But it’s true, it was you. That’s crazy.”
“Yeah. I’m claiming temporary insanity.”
“Must be in the blood, huh?”
“Insanity?”
“No. Bravery.”
I ignore him. I’m looking down the beach where the salvage crew is circling around a new piece of debris. They shout for Fren who rushes down the beach, his big boots flinging rocks up behind him. He looks at what they’ve found, rubs his hand over his face tiredly, and points up the hill.
“What’s the commotion?” Krysan asks curiously.
“Must be another body.”
“Is that them up there under the blankets?”
“Yeah.”
We stand silently watching as they pull the wood and debris off the body, clearing it slowly. Carefully. A cart is brought down. Another blanket. The surf rises up, tries to reclaim its kill, but the people surround it. They hold onto it and pull it from the eager grasp of the tide. They raise it up over their heads to walk it to the cart, water pouring from its long hair, its dangling fingertips. The stretched skirts of its dark dress. Everything about it reminds me of the Eventide I pulled from the water, everything but its life. That’s gone. That I can’t feel the way I felt hers, and for a split second I imagine that it’s her they’re lifting. Her that’s dead and gone, about to disappear under the weight and darkness of the blue blanket, and something inside of me hurts.
And something else, something infinitesimal but insistent, is relieved.
“I gotta go,” I tell Krysan. “Good luck out here.”
“Yeah, thanks. Oh, hey!” he says suddenly. “Your brother. He’s in the warehouse.”
“Thanks. I’ll find him.”
I don’t, though. I don’t know how to explain why, but I know I can’t face him. Not right now. Not when he’ll see the truth inside me, even if no one else wants to.
Chapter Ten
Liv
Less than half an hour after Easton cinches the black bands on my wrists I’m feeling better. Not perfect, but better. I’m able to stand and pace the room without throwing up. It’s a start, but to what I don’t know. I have to get out of here, that’s all I can think about. I can’t be alone like this.
Not here. Not anywhere.
The door opens as I’m making my second pass across the room. No knock, just opens.
It’s somebody new. At least I think it is at first, but then I recognize her. It’s the girl who I passed in the hall on my trip to the bathroom. The one who had to come in and clean the floor. She looks about as thrilled to see me now as she did then.
She’s a little younger than me with brilliant red hair and the fairest skin I’ve seen so far. She’s wearing dark slacks that look a lot like the ones Easton had on. Thicker material than the cotton I’m wearing, but cut to fit her better too. Her hair is tied back from her face with a blue cloth that compliments her light gray shirt, and it occurs to me that it’s the same cut as some of the shirts I’ve seen on people on the ships. Not Council members or their families, but I’ve definitely seen them on the crew.
She looks startled when she finds me standing across the room from the bed.
“You’re up,” she tells me.
“I know.”
“Dr. Kanden said you were too sick to stand.”
“I’m feeling better.”
She smiles tightly. “That’s good news.” She raises a bucket in her hand. “I’m here to swap out your puke bucket.”
“It’s there on the floor by the table.”
“Thanks so much.”
I should probably have offered to help her but I’m not in the best condition. I feel less like vomiting but I’m pretty sure the sight of my own sick will send me right back over the edge again. One of the reasons I stood up to the pace the room was to get away from the scent.
“What’s your name?” I ask impulsively, hoping I’ll come off less aloof by asking.
The look she casts me says it’s not working. “It’s Abby.”
“I’m Liv.”
“Great to meet you.”
Her words drip with sarcasm but I ignore it. “Abby, I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”
“Bigger than the one I’m doing right now?”
“Smaller, actually.”
She sets both buckets down before turning to face me. “What is it?”
“I was wondering if you could help me to the bathroom.”
“Seriously?” she chuckles. “You need help? Didn’t your nanny teach you how to manage that when you were like three?”
“No, she did. I meant I need help finding the bathr—“
“Oh my God, I was kidding,” she laughs. “You really did have a nanny growing up?”
I stand up straight, putting my shoulders back. “Yes.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Why is that crazy?”
“Where was your mom?”
“On the ship.”
“Why didn’t she teach you?”
I laugh without meaning to, but the idea of my mother kneeling down in front of a toilet while I sat skirts up to my chin and butt bare to the world encouraging me to ‘go’ is ridiculous.
“Why is that funny?” Abby asks curiously.
“You’d have to know my mother to get it.”
“I’m not really in the habit of knowing Eventides.”
“Why not?”
Her jaw drops. “Are you for real?”
“Yes.”
“Uh, because I’ve never seen one. Not until today.”
“Not even at Porton?”
“I don’t go to Porton, and even if I did you guys wouldn’t be there. You don’t get off your boats.”
“There are Eventide who do. They unload cargo. They trade.”
“They do it quickly. They disappear,” she enunciates slowly, carefully. “Most people, even ones who live by a port, have never seen an Eventide up close. You’re not exactly social people.”
“Is that why you don’t like us?”
“Who says we don’t like you?”
I tilt my head at her, waiting patiently.
Finally she shrugs. “Fine, you’re not our favorite. I thought it was rude to say it, but if you want to know the truth, then there you go. You guys are snobs.”
I scoff. “We’re not snobs.”
“Really? I heard this is your first time on land. Why is that?”
Because my father barely let me onto our own c
ity to mingle with everyone there. He would never willingly put me in the ranks of Moles.
I think it but I don’t say it, because, yes, maybe I am a snob, but that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot.
“Never had the opportunity before,” I lie evenly.
She watches me, waiting. Debating. I give her nothing to go on. My face is a blank slate because if I learned anything on the ships other than the history of Greece, four languages, and how to use a toilet, it’s how to hide inside myself.
“Well,” she sighs, leaning down to pick up my dirty bucket, “welcome to Gaia. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
“I’m sure I will.”
I wait five minutes after Abby leaves before I venture out into the hallway. I want to make sure she’s gone. That I don’t have witnesses to me creeping around in these thin clothes searching for a place to pee.
“Looking for something?”
I scream. It’s embarrassing but I do it. I’m shot. I’m done, toast. Finished. I’m pretty sure when the voice rings out behind my back that I die a little inside, or at least my heart does, because I can feel it tangy and angry in the back of my throat.
“Do you ever stop shouting?”
It’s the guy, the shadow. The one who was there when I woke up. Even as my heart runs away from me, I’m relieved to see him.
“You scared me,” I accuse breathlessly.
He shakes his head with a frown. “You’re jumpy.”
“Can you imagine why?”
“I’ll try.”
“What are you doing out here?”
“Working.”
“On what?”
“Work. What are you doing out of bed?” he evades.
I push my hair back from my face, glancing around the hallway. None of the doors have any signs on them. It’s ridiculous.
“I was looking for the bathroom.”
He points to a door at the end of the hall. “On your left,” he instructs tonelessly.
I turn to head down the hall, but something stops me. I look over my shoulder curiously. “How long have you been out here?”
“A while.”
“Were you there when Abby was here?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you hear our conversation?”