She was speaking to him again, her voice suddenly older, more mature. “Oh, Bek, I’ve let you down so badly. I left you, and I didn’t come back. I should have, and I didn’t. It was so wrong of me, Bek.”
She was crying. His sister was crying. It was astonishing, and Bek would have felt a sense of joy if he hadn’t been so frightened that it wasn’t his sister speaking. He fought to say something, to stop her, but no words would come out.
“Little puppy,” she whispered sadly, and her hands reached down to cup Quentin’s face. “Let me make you all better.”
Then she leaned down and kissed him gently on the lips, drawing his breath into her body.
Rue Meridian was sleeping in a makeshift canvas hammock she had strung between the foremast and the bow railing, lost in a dream about cormorants and puffins, when she felt Bek’s hand on her shoulder and awoke. She saw the look on his face and immediately asked, “What’s wrong?”
It was a difficult look to decipher. His face was troubled and amazed, both at once; it reflected uncertainty mixed with wonder. He appeared oddly adrift, as if he was there almost by accident. Her first thought was that his coming was a delayed reaction to what she had told him hours earlier. She sat up quickly, swung her legs over the side of the hammock, and stood. “Bek, what’s happened?”
“Grianne woke up. I don’t know why. The magic, maybe. I was using it to try to help Quentin, to heal him the way Brin Ohmsford did Rone Leah once. Or maybe it was when I cried. I was so frustrated and tired, I just broke down.”
He exhaled sharply. “She spoke to me. She called me by name. But she wasn’t herself, not grown up, but a child, speaking in a child’s voice, calling me ‘poor baby boy, little Bek,’ and telling me not to cry.”
“Wait a minute, slow down,” she said, taking hold of him by his shoulders. “Come over here.”
She led him to the bow and sat him down in the shadow of the starboard ram where the curve of the horn formed a shelter at its joining with the deck. She sat facing him, pulled her knees up to her breast, and wrapped her arms around her legs. “Okay, tell me the rest. She came awake and she spoke to you. What happened next?”
“You won’t believe this,” he whispered, clearly not believing it himself. “She healed him. She used her magic, and she healed him. I thought she was going to kill him. She called him a puppy—I guess that’s what she thought he was. I tried to stop her, but she did something to me with the magic so that I couldn’t move or speak. Then she started on him, and I was sure she meant to help him by killing him, to take away his pain and suffering by taking his life. That’s what the Ilse Witch would have done, and I was afraid she was still the witch.”
Rue leaned forward, hugging herself. “How could she heal him, Bek? He was all broken up inside. Half his blood was gone.”
“The magic can do that. It can generate healing. I watched it happen to Quentin. He’s not completely well yet. He isn’t even awake. But I saw his color change right in front of me. I heard his breathing steady and, afterwards, when I could move again, felt that his pulse was stronger, too. Some of his wounds, the ones you bandaged, have closed completely.”
“Shades,” she whispered, trying to picture it.
He leaned back into the curve of the horn and looked at the night sky. “When she was done, she came back over to me and stroked my cheek and held me. I could move again, but I didn’t want to interrupt what she was doing because I thought it might be helping her. I spoke her name, but she didn’t answer. She just rocked me and began to cry.”
His eyes shifted to find hers. “She kept saying how sorry she was, over and over. She said it would never happen again. Leaving me, she said. She wouldn’t leave me like before, not ever. All this in her little girl’s voice, her child’s voice.”
His eyes closed. “I just wanted to help her, to let her know I understood. I tried to hold her. When I did, she went right back into herself. She quit talking or moving. She quit seeing me. She was just like before. I couldn’t do anything to bring her back. I tried, but she wouldn’t respond.” He shook his head. “So I left her and came to find you. I had to tell someone. I’m sorry I woke you.”
She reached out for him, pulled him close, and kissed him on the lips. “I’m glad you did.” She stood and drew him up with her. “Come lie down with me, Bek.”
She took him back to the canvas hammock and bundled him into it beside her. She pressed herself against him and wrapped him in her arms. She was still getting used to the idea that he meant so much to her. Her admission of this to him had surprised her, but she’d had no regrets about it afterwards. Bek Ohmsford made her feel complete; it was as if by finding him, she had found a missing part of herself. He made her feel good, and it had been a while since anyone had made her feel like that.
They lay without moving for a while, without talking, just holding each other and listening to the silence. But she wanted more, wanted to give him more, and she began kissing him. She kissed him for a long time, working her way over his mouth and eyes and nose, down his neck and chest. He tried to kiss her, as well, but she wouldn’t let him, wanting everything to come from her. When he seemed at peace, she lay back again, placing his head in the crook of her shoulder. He fell asleep for a time, and she held him while he dreamed.
I love you, Bek Ohmsford. She mouthed the words silently. She thought it incredibly odd she should fall in love with someone under such strange circumstances. It seemed inconvenient and vaguely ridiculous. Hawk would have been shocked. He never thought she would fall in love with anyone. Too independent, too tough-minded. She never needed anyone, never wanted anyone. She was complete by herself. She understood his thinking. It was what she had believed, as well, until now.
She put her hands inside of Bek’s clothing and touched his skin. She placed her fingers over his heart. Counting the beats in her head, she closed her eyes and dozed.
When she woke again, he was still sleeping. Overhead, the sky was lightening with the approach of dawn.
“It’s almost daylight,” she whispered in his ear, waking him.
He nodded into her shoulder. He was silent for a moment, shaking off the last of his sleep. She could feel his breath on her neck and the strength in his arms.
“When we get back to the Four Lands,” he began, and stopped. “When this is all over, and we have to decide where we—”
“Bek, no,” she said gently, but firmly. “Don’t talk about what’s going to happen later. Don’t worry about it. We’re too far away for it to matter yet. Leave it alone.”
He went silent again, pressed against her. She brushed back her hair where it had fallen into her face. His eyes followed the movement with interest, and he reached out to help. “I have to go down into the Crake,” he said. “I have to get Quentin’s sword back. I want it to be there for him when he wakes up.”
She nodded. “All right.”
“Will you look after Grianne for me while I’m gone?”
She smiled and kissed him on the lips. “I can’t, Bek.” She touched the tip of his nose. “I’m going with you.”
When she said it, Bek panicked. He kept the panic in check on the surface, but inside, where his emotions could pretty much do whatever they wanted to, he was a mess. All he could think about was how afraid he was for her, how frightened that something bad would happen. It had already happened to Quentin, and his cousin had at least had the protection of the Sword of Leah. Rue wore a splint on one arm and had no magic at all. If he agreed to let her come, he would be taking on the responsibility for both of them. He was not sure he wanted to do that right after failing Quentin so miserably.
“I don’t think that is a good idea,” he told her, not sure what else to say that wouldn’t make her furious and even more determined.