He made the climb up with effort and found almost everyone—including Brot’an—on deck at the port-side rail. Leanâlhâm was the only one missing, likely hiding in her cabin. It was later in the day than he realized, for the sun would soon touch the waters to the west.
Magiere turned from the rail and waved him over.
“Come and look,” she said, sounding pleased, or as pleased as she ever sounded. With her hair loose down her back, she’d forgone both her hauberk and cloak in the warm weather. She was dressed only in black breeches and a white shirt that billowed in the breeze.
Fighting dizziness, Leesil staggered in beside her to see a sprawling small city with four long, sturdy piers jutting out from its waterfront. He looked about and spotted Captain Bassett up at the wheel with the young man who’d upset Leanâlhâm. Neither gave the passengers any notice.
“Prepare to make port!” the captain called.
Those words were music to Leesil’s ears.
The ship slowed further, almost drifting along as it approached the outside pier. Soon the crew hustled about under the captain’s commands. But Leesil mostly watched the waterfront coming closer—and not quickly enough for him—until the ship finally docked.
“A sight for sick eyes,” he mumbled, gripping the rail as he gazed down at the pier.
Both Brot’an and Chap looked at him, though neither responded, nor did Chap raise any annoying memory-words in Leesil’s head. However, Magiere laid her hand over his on the rail.
“One sailor claimed this place has a few cheap inns,” she said. “Do you want to go ashore for the night?”
“Try to stop me.”
But when he looked into her face, really looked, a stirring filled his chest. Had he heard something else beneath her words? Could she be suggesting a night alone with him—and without Chap?
He’d spent so much time worrying about keeping her calm, about keeping her dhampir half from taking over. It had been so long that he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be with her ... in their earlier, better life together.
He didn’t begrudge anyone else a night ashore, including—especially—Chap, but Leesil and Magiere would get a room of their own.
“I will remain aboard,” Brot’an added. “We need nothing onshore, and Leanâlhâm requires seclusion.”
Leesil didn’t agree. What the girl really needed was more human interaction with proper guardianship from someone besides Brot’an. At the moment, he didn’t care enough to argue. Then unbidden words rose in his mind.
—I—stay—too— ... —I—watch—Brot’an—
Leesil glanced quickly at Chap. Other than that he did nothing to draw attention to the dog’s having said anything to him. Of course Chap wanted to keep an eye on Brot’an; they both did. But as little as Leesil trusted Brot’an, he sometimes worried about Chap’s attitude toward the old shadow-gripper. It went beyond distrust.
The captain was in no mood for another altercation. Likely he’d take an even dimmer view of anything between the passengers. Chap wasn’t above being ... well, overly vigilant when it came to Brot’an. Perhaps a subtle warning might temper that.
“Chap says he’ll stay, too,” Leesil announced.
Brot’an didn’t acknowledge this, though Magiere’s brow wrinkled. Perhaps she, too, had concerns about Chap, but she said nothing. Crouching down, Leesil scratched Chap’s neck, pretending to say his good-bye, but he leaned in to whisper, “Watch him.... Learn what you can, but do nothing to get us thrown off the ship.”
Chap wrinkled his jowls and flicked his tongue up over his nose. Leesil let the rude gesture pass. They’d both made their points, and he hoped that Chap took him seriously.
“Are we going?” Magiere asked.
Nothing was going to stop Leesil from getting off this ship with her for a whole night. Not Brot’an. Not Chap. Not even fear of being thrown off for good should Chap do something rash.
“Try to stop me,” Leesil repeated.
Shortly past dusk, Magiere led the way into a small, shabby room at an inn close to the waterfront. To her surprise, she grew suddenly nervous as she dropped her pack at the foot of the bed. For so many moons, she and Leesil had seemed trapped in a standstill, where a thousand words boiled beneath the surface but were never spoken. After what had happened at the journey’s end upon leaving the Wastes, he’d watched her carefully at all times, waiting for her to lose control again.
Always there to calm her, to deal with her, as if she’d become his sole and constant crisis to face. In turn, she’d both resented and needed him. She didn’t want to lose herself—to her other self. He was the one most capable of reaching her when she was pushed too near that edge. But the last quarter moon on the ship had been different.
He’d been so sick that she’d watched over him, and he’d been less watchful while needing her. As annoying as he could be, it was a relief to take care of him ... and embarrassing to remember that she wanted him to need her.
Leesil followed her into the little room and closed the door. Dropping his pack next to hers, he looked about the shabby place: the tiny bed with its worn-thin blanket and the one window, its panes glazed dull by wet coastal winds. There were no table or chairs or even a water basin, but this was what they could afford.
“Not luxurious,” he commented, “but I don’t care.”
The walk here had done him good, and the sickly pallor had faded halfway from his tan features. Unstrapping both sheathed punching blades, he dropped them atop the packs, went to the window, and closed his eyes as if listening.
“Strange how much I hate being at sea,” he said, “but I like hearing the waves against the shore. Reminds me of home.”
Magiere didn’t know what to say. He wanted to go back to their little Sea Lion tavern, to run the faro table while she tended the bar, serving ale and whatever wine had come in from up their own coast. When the nights grew late, and the last of the patrons ambled out the door, it would be just the two of them in their bed upstairs.
He didn’t want to be here chasing after ancient devices wielded by an enemy believed to have waged war on the world. But she had no choice. She couldn’t stop until all five orbs were recovered and hidden where no one might find them ever again.
Leesil looked so young standing by the window. With his eyes closed and only the port lights glimmering upon his face and white-blond hair, she couldn’t quite make out his faded scars.
As if they’d been wiped away forever.
With no warning, a terrible fear gripped Magiere. She sank onto the bed, and the words boiling beneath the surface spilled out before she could stop them.
“Don’t leave me.... Promise you won’t, no matter what happens.”
Leesil turned sharply from the window. “Leave you?”
In three fast, hard steps, he was beside her on the bed’s edge and grabbed her face. The way he looked at her left her stunned. He stared into her eyes like a man who’d been drowning and then thrown a lifeline.
“Is that what you’re ...” he began. “Magiere, you’re stuck with me. Understand? You’re not going anywhere without me.”
Knowing she shouldn’t go on with this, she still couldn’t stop. “What if I lose myself and can’t ... don’t come back?”
She had finally said it. The possibility was now real.
He couldn’t pretend, not to her, that he didn’t fear the same thing. This was the wall of smoke that hid them from clear view of each other. Both of them, not just her, were afraid to step through to see the other in the wake of this ugly truth.
Magiere didn’t see fear in Leesil’s face. His hands never even twitched upon her cheeks.