by Tracey Ward
“They don’t believe us,” I whisper to Gav.
He smiles. “I know. I didn’t think they would.”
“I’ve never been to port before. I had no idea we were so aloof.”
“Always. I’ve only ever been on shore in Zealand, but it’s the same. The crowds are smaller but we treat the people with the same distrust. No one is allowed on the docks while we unload.” He points to an Eventide man standing in the shade at the top of the ramp, a grim look on his face and a thick booklet in his hands. “That’s our Portmaster. He oversees all of this, including the trades with the merchants. He won’t come down until the end when a security detail pushes the crowd back and allows one merchant through at a time. He’s why we weren’t allowed any closer. He doesn’t like anyone but Eventide on the dock while we’re here.”
“Who do they think we are if not Eventide?” I hold up my hand, showing him my brown skin. “It’s not exactly like we blend in here.”
He shrugs. “They probably think it’s makeup. And the tattoos, those could be drawn on.”
I drop my arm, shaking my head in disgust. “I washed up on the Gaian shore and they took me in immediately. I walk up to an Eventide ship and announce myself to my own people, and they call me a liar. Do you ever wonder, Gav, if we aren’t all of the awful things people think we are?”
“I think we’re a lot of them, yes. And I think that’s something I want to change. Now more than ever.”
“Why now?”
“Because I’ve lived on the outside. I’ve seen us through their eyes, and it’s not pretty. Even in Camdon where they practically worshipped us, it was out of fear. Or a deranged jealousy. You were almost killed for the color of your skin and the shape of your eyes, all because we’re a myth. I plan to dispel that myth. I want to make us real to them, make them real to us, because how beautiful would it be to see Eventide walking the souk?”
I smile at his passion. “It would be lovely.”
“I want to see it happen.” He looks down at me, smiling affectionately. “You’re the start, Liv. Do it for me while you’re here. You’ll be the example I give every time I’m told it can’t be done. That we can’t be accepted or safe. I’ll point to you and the Gaians and I’ll make them see how wrong they all are.”
“He’s coming!” the man calls, reappearing at the end of the dock. He moves toward us slowly, his eyes wary. “Allister Pamuk, he is coming. The third Dasher will be in port soon.”
Gav nods courteously. “Thank you.”
“He won’t be happy if this is a trick. He wanted me to tell you that.”
“Understood.”
“You’d be lying to a Councilman. A crime like that would fall under Eventide law. Not Porton.”
“I realize that. I know the law.”
“I hope you do.”
It takes another twenty minutes for the third Dasher to dock. It pulls in behind the Lion. Its bow is empty.
When the gangplank comes down I feel faint. I’d like to say the heat is getting to me, but I’m barely breathing. I’m taking short shallow breaths as I wait for my father to show.
A rush of men exit the boat, six of them running down to the dock. They push back against the crowd. Merchants and citizens grumble their protests but never too loudly. No one causes a stir. The men flank us, three on each side, before going still.
I turn to my brother urgently. “This could all go very wrong.”
“It more than likely will,” he agrees seriously.
“Before it does I want you to promise me something. I want you to swear to me that you’ll meet me right here on this dock on this day every year. When you marry I want to meet your wife. I want to hold your babies in my arms, even if it’s just for a minute. I want to see you grow old and white, and the only day that we won’t meet in this moment is when one of us is gone for good. Can you promise me that?”
Gav smiles sadly, gathering me into a crushing embrace. “I swear it.”
“Then this isn’t goodbye.”
“It’s see you later.”
He squeezes me even harder once, straining the strength of my ribs, before he releases me to face the ship. He’s quick to hide his eyes but I see them. I see the shine in them. They’re the same as mine.
A small crowd emerges from the darkness in the hull. Mostly men, they’re all well dressed and manicured. Unlike the other Eventides we’ve seen they’re ready for dinner not labor. They make their way slowly down the ramp. A woman opens an umbrella. It’s vibrantly red, the sun shining down through it bathing her in a crimson glow.
In the center of the crowd is a man with brown skin and shockingly white hair. Thick eyebrows. My lips. Gav’s nose.
They close in on us, my father taking the lead. My heart begins to slow. It slides out of my throat down into my chest where it beats sluggishly. The drop in blood pressure makes me lightheaded, but I feel a strange sense of euphoria. Almost weightless. Like flying.
In my mind my father is a large, hulking man. He’s tall as a mast, broad as the sky. He towers over me with fierce eyes and a withering glance.
This is not that man.
I’m no larger than the last time I saw him, just as he’s no smaller, but he is lesser somehow. He is less than burying my mother. Less than a monster clawing at the door. Less than a madman with a knife and a heart full of hate.
Or maybe he’s not less than he was. Maybe I am simply more.
Father scans us critically from head to toe before grinning, extending his hands in a welcoming gesture as though he’d embrace us.
He won’t, he doesn’t. He never did.
“My children,” he greets us gladly. “You’re alive.”
Gav nods to him. “Father.”
“Father,” I parrot mechanically.
He lowers his hands. “I couldn’t believe it when they told me you were both here. I thought for sure you were liars or con artists. I was going to have you flogged,” he chuckles.
The crowd behind him laughs.
Gav and I do not.
“How did you survive?” he asks.
“We were rescued,” Gav explains. “Each by a different city. Gaia and Camdon.”
“Gaia and Camdon,” he repeats to himself, glancing over his shoulder. A man I recognize, Patrice, pulls out a pad to make a note. “We’ll have to thank them. But first, let’s get you both on board. Get you out of those clothes, bathed, dressed. I’m sure you have incredible stories to share with us. You’re just in time for lunch. I’ll have the dining room set and every chair filled.”
“I’m not hungry,” I say quietly.
He looks at me with a frown, this expression as familiar to me as my own face. “Then you don’t have to eat, Livandra. But you will be present.”
I shake my head, my hair whipping behind me wild and free. “I won’t.”
“I don’t understand you.”
“I’m not going with you. I’m not coming home.” I lick my lips. They’re cracked copper. “I’m staying here. I’m happy here.”
My father’s hand darts out quick like a snake. He takes hold of my arm, turning it out to show my tattoo to the sun. “Your place is with the Eventide.”
I try to pull my arm away but he refuses to let me go. His fingers dig in painfully.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Gav take a step forward. I shake my head sharply at him.
He stops short.
“You never listened to your mother,” Father tells me quietly, “but, by God, you will listen to me. You will get on that ship, change out of those clothes, wash the filth from your body, and be seated at the dining table before I get there. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I whisper tremulously, “I understand. But I’m not going to do it.”
His face quivers, his composure cracking. Sweat glistens on his lip as his face turns as red of the umbrella behind him. “I will not be defied.”
I put my hand gently over his where he holds me. His eyes spark with surprise, his mo
uth opening only a sliver. He thinks I’m putting hands on him to fight him.
He’s right; he doesn’t understand me at all.
I step closer to him, invading his space. “You can force me onto that ship, but think about it long and hard before you do. Think about how old you are, about your health. How much help you’re going to need in the coming years. How vulnerable you’ll be when the arthritis in your knee makes it impossible to walk. When you’re bed ridden. When you need a nurse to administer your medications to you. It’s a tricky thing, managing pain. I’ve done it. I learned it with the Gaians. I learned how to do it right, and I learned all the ways that it can go wrong. All of the ways accidents can happen every. Single. Day.” I slowly pull his hand away from my arm. “Think about that before you ever put your hands on me again.”
He stares at me blankly, his eyes empty, but a vein in his temple throbs violently.
“You’ll be banished,” he hisses angrily.
I laugh, taking a step back. “I’m banishing myself.”
I look at Gav one last time. I smile at him. I take his smile with me.
Then I turn my back on my old life, my old self, and I walk away through the crowd.
“Livandra! Livandra!”
Allister’s cries are impotent and insipid. They’re waves crashing on the shore. They’re water over a stone. They’re a waste of air, because I’m already gone.
I was lost to him the moment Grayson found me.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Gray
“Livandra!”
“Oh, he’s mad,” Easton mumbles.
“I can’t see over the crowd,” I snap. “What’s happening?”
Easton cranes his neck to look. He’s standing on the rim of a fountain in the middle of the square. We’re on the edge of the crowd surrounding the docks. It’s been growing the longer Liv and Gav have been standing there. More people eager to see what drama the Eventide have brought them.
We got here just as the ramp came screaming down but I insisted we hang back. I don’t want to interfere or make things worse with Liv’s dad. I just want to be here when it’s all over. When she’s taken her licks from him and her brother is gone. I don’t want her to be alone for that.
“She’s coming!” Easton shouts down to me excitedly. “Her dad is seriously shaking. He looks like he’s going to explode.”
“But he’s letting her go?”
“Oh yeah. Their security just closed behind her. Whatever she said to him got her out of there but he did not like it. I don’t think she’s going to be welcome on that boat ever again. Here she comes! She’s almost out of the crowd.”
Easton jumps down to come stand behind me, wheeling me slowly forward. The sea of people parts ahead of us, letting Liv out.
She looks better than I thought she would. A lot better. There are no tears, no fear in her eyes. She’s even smiling to herself.
It fades when she sees me, though. Her expression morphs into something of disbelief.
“Easton? Grayson, what are you doing here?”
Easton rolls me to her, closing the gap between Liv and me, and I’m suddenly very aware of how horrible I both feel and look. I’m not exerting myself beyond sitting and still I’m sweating through my shirt. My face feels tight from the sun and dry air, like my skin is turning to brittle paper. Sweaty, brittle paper.
It’s not my finest hour.
“We came to be supportive.”
Her face twists with concern, picking up on the strain in my voice. “You should be in a hospital.”
“Five out of five of my doctor’s would agree with you,” I chuckle breathlessly.
“You shouldn’t have left the hospital. Is your treatment finished?”
“Basically.”
“No,” Easton corrects. “He has one more.”
“Traitor.”
“I don’t lie to family, Gray.”
“I wanted to be here for you,” I tell her sincerely. “I didn’t want to get in the way. I just wanted to be here in case you needed me.”
She smiles, her eyes glistening in the sun. “I do. Thank you so much.”
“How’d it go?” Easton asks. “From here it looked intense, but I’m no lip reader.”
“It’s probably better that way.” She sighs, pushing her hair away from her eyes. It whips behind her like a flag on a mast. “He was angry, but I reasoned with him.”
I look at her skeptically. “He could be reasoned with?”
She shrugs, her face falling. “Yes. You just have to get on his level. Explain things in terms he can understand.”
“Will you ever get to see Gav again?” I ask gently.
She brightens instantly. “Yes. Every year. He promised to meet me here on the dock every time they come to port.”
“Will your dad try to stop him?”
“I’d like to see him try. Gav takes his seat in two years. After that he’s a Councilman and my father is just a man. He won’t even have power over a dog at that point.”
Easton steps forward to hug her briefly. “I’m happy for you, Liv. You did a brave thing.”
“Thank you, Easton. I’m so glad you’re both here.”
“Well, we’re your family now. And if you thought it was hard to get rid of your dad…”
“Too soon,” I growl at him.
Liv laughs, shaking her head. “It’s not too soon. It’s perfect.” She giggles airily, so exuberant I think she can fly. “Everything is perfect. I can’t imagine how this day could get any better.”
I take her words as a challenge, standing before I know what I’m doing. My brain is catching up with my heart, but it has a lot of ground to cover because my pulse has run away from me. I’m looking at her face, seeing her in the sun, feeling this impossible, painful elation knowing that she didn’t get on that boat. Some part of me worried she would, but here she stands and she’s mine and I want to know that this feeling is forever.
It’s agony to get on my feet. I feel woozy the second I do it, the heat rolling up off the concrete under my feet like it’s a tangible force battering me back and forth. My hands shake. My vision jolts in time with my heartbeat.
I pull off my shirt, dragging it abrasively over my ruined back.
Liv’s eyes are huge. “Grayson, what are you doing?”
She looks to Easton for help, for confirmation that I’ve gone insane, but he only smiles. She turns back to me, her mouth open in silent shock.
I stumble closer to her, stepping into her space. She lets me, lifting her hands to my shoulders to embrace me. To steady me. I’m disgusting, coated in sweat and fear and pain, but she doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t blink as I stare down into her eyes that are brimming with love and laughter, my hand on her side where her words are hidden. Where I want them to be mine.
“I’m asking you to marry me,” I tell her solemnly.
I tear the bandage off my side with a sharp hiss, exposing my skin. My tattoo.
She smiles when she looks down to see it. She laughs. She cries. She reaches for me, pressing her mouth against mine.
Her words whisper over my lips.
“A bursting lemon sun—“
“—awaken sleeping stars.”
THE END
Thank you for reading The Seventh Hour!
I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please consider leaving a review.
Keep reading for an excerpt from my YA Sci-Fi Romance, Sleepless.
Prologue
Nick
The first time I saw her, I was dead.
I was rolling down the river with two coins for the Ferryman, heading out onto the infinite, black sea. Worst of all, I was going without a fight.
How she found me is still a mystery or a miracle, depending on your perspective. Any way you slice it, I’m lucky she was there, though showing gratitude for it wouldn’t come easy for a long time after. How she put up with me for as long as she did is pure miracle, no mystery about it. She’s as close to an angel
as I’ll ever get. Whenever I think of her, I always remember the way she looked there by the river; long auburn hair, glistening hazel eyes and a T-shirt that read Zombies Hate Fast Food.
When she reached out and took my hand, it shattered my world. Her eyes and the warm press of her skin against mine changed everything. Suddenly I was gasping for breath, fighting for life, and as she lowered her face to within inches of mine, I felt my heart slam painfully in my chest. She parted her lips, making me believe she would kiss me goodbye. If that had been the last sensation I experienced in this world I would have died a lucky man. Instead, she whispered one word against my mouth. One word that would press air into my lungs and pull me back from the void.
“Breathe.”
Then she was gone.
Chapter One
Alex
I wake with a start. My eyes immediately find the black sparrow decals flying across the white paint of the wall beside my bed, calming my racing heart. I trace one with my fingers, smiling at the familiar feel of its edges. This is what I always do. This is how they tell me that I’m home.
I actually hate birds. They’re too quick and erratic with their sharp claws and beaks. They’re like flying, disease carrying knives. But more than anything I hate them because they remind me of the Dragon.
“Are you here?” Cara calls.
“Present and accounted for.” I drop my hand from the bird just as my bedroom door swings open. My sister stands in the doorway. Watching.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“I’m glad you’re home.”
I chuckle quietly. It could go without saying but she says it every time. “Me too.”
“Where’d you go? Do I want to know?”
“Transylvania,” I lie.
“Okay, so I don’t want to know.”
I shake my head. No. She doesn’t want to know.
“I had the Dragon Dream,” I tell her, changing the subject. “It brought me home.”