He did not answer. He was no longer there. He was somewhere far away, where shicts were. And she was not.
“Naxiaw?” she called into the darkness.
And it did not answer back.
TWENTY
For a long time, Dreadaeleon did not look at either one of them. Denaos bore a scowl so fierce that the boy didn’t dare risk having it turn on him. Asper’s despair was so deep that he felt it might swallow him up if he even looked sideways at her. Fortunately, both their agonies were directed at the sight on the beach before them.
Still, it seemed like someone should say something.
“So, uh,” he said, “that’s bad, right?”
“In the grand scale of things?” Denaos asked, shaking his head. “Not so much.”
“And in the immediate?”
“Yes, idiot, it’s bad.”
Like calling me names is going to help, Dreadaeleon thought resentfully. But he supposed there was little that would.
Their boat sat, snugly ensconced between two rocks, the sand beneath its rudder and its tail end only just brushing the water that had, this morning, been keeping it afloat. Like it was testing the water before it was ready to go and get them the hell out of here, Dreadaeleon thought.
Either way, there it was. Stuck in the rocks. And the water was there. Receded from the shoreline. There was little to do about it.
“Gods damn it!”
Except that.
“Hongwe, you scaly, slithering idiot.”
And that.
“Why the hell wouldn’t you tell us the tide was going out?” Denaos demanded of the lizardman standing beside them.
“You go to an island full of longfaces to rescue a friend that was probably dead. I thought you had enough to worry ’bout.” He inclined his crested head to Asper. “Good that you’re alive, though.”
“Uh. . thanks?” Asper replied.
“Then why wouldn’t you move the boat?” Denaos asked, tone growing sharper.
“I did,” Hongwe protested. “I moved it behind these rocks when I saw longfaces on the beach. The tide left before they did. It’s not my fault.” He thrust a scaly finger at Denaos. “You weren’t supposed to take this long. ‘In and out’ you said, ‘very quickly’ you said.”
“I was trying to sound like I knew what I was doing,” he snarled. “I didn’t actually know how we were going to do any of that.”
“Then I’m not sure why you’re upset that things aren’t going as you didn’t plan.”
“I. . but. .” With words failing him, he turned to his second most tried-and-true method of conflict resolution. “You!” he barked, shoving Dreadaeleon fiercely. “Fix it!”
“How?” the boy asked.
“Magic it out. I don’t know.”
“I could try shoving it out, yes, but that would rip up the boat.”
“Can you lift it out or something?” Asper asked.
Yes, absolutely, he thought. I mean, it’ll speed up the Decay in my body, make me die quickly, and I’ll probably come spurting out of two or more orifices as I do, but at least it’ll be more humane than sacrificing a stupid lizard for a magical gem of untold power and wonder that could actually, you know, cure me.
“No,” he said.
“Why not?”
He blinked and said with a straight face, “The flow of magic is just a hair too whimsical today.”
She stared at him for a moment before sighing ruefully and looking away.
She believed that? I can’t believe she’s that dumb. Or does she just think that whimsy is something that would be a problem for you? Maybe she- He stopped himself, rubbing his temples. Keep it together, old man. Netherlings all over the place. Now’s not the time. You can still come out on top.
How? he demanded to himself. How can you possibly do something about this? You’re drained. You’re dying. And she’s . . she doesn’t think anything of you. But him. . him she thinks is just so. . so. .
His temper flared inside him and he instantly felt wearier. Even thinking an outburst drained him. He rubbed his eyes and sighed.
The netherlings had to be halfway to Jaga by now, he reasoned. Little choice, then, he reasoned. He had to do something to get them off the island. There was a way, he knew, not a good one, but there were no good ways out of it. And so he chose the one that wouldn’t end with him soiling himself.
Look, he thought, not to himself, I know I called you some bad names and I said that about you earlier, but. . if you’re listening to this, I could use you right about now.
He heard steel sliding out of a sheath. He heard Asper curse. He heard Hongwe mutter something reverent in his own language.
Greenhair had come faster than he expected.
He looked up and saw the siren rising out of the sea, striding out of the surf, the salt and her silk clinging to her pale body like a second skin. She wore a knowing look on her face as though she had been waiting for him all this time.
Like she knew you were going to mess everything up, given enough time.
“Do not chastise yourself unduly, lorekeeper,” the siren replied liltingly.
Ah, right, she reads thoughts. . or just mine?
“No.”
“Then you probably know that you shouldn’t come any closer,” Dreadaeleon said, eyeing the dagger flashing in Denaos’s hand, “at least until I can explain why you’re here.”
“Explain the presence of the woman who betrayed us and sold us to a bunch of longfaces who would eagerly finish the job if they knew we were fifty feet away from them?” Denaos flipped the blade in his hand, drew his arm back to hurl it. “Let me save you some time.”
“Wait!” Dreadaeleon cried out.
He jumped up and wrapped his own scrawny arms about Denaos’s, hanging from it with all his weight. Lamentably, he wondered if that would do any good.
“You can’t kill her!” he cried out.
“I assure you I can,” Denaos grunted in reply as he shook his arm and tried to dislodge the boy, “and with amazing efficiency and minimal mess, once you let go.”
“She can help us!”
“Hold on,” Asper said to Denaos before looking at Dreadaeleon. “All right, Dread, we’re listening. . how can she help us?”
“I. . don’t actually know.”
Asper nodded considerately. Then she looked to Denaos. “Just use your other hand.”
“Lovely,” the rogue quipped, flipping the blade to his free hand.
“The lorekeeper does not speak false,” Greenhair replied, apparently not at all concerned about the fuss, or the knife, directed at her. “You are in need of much that I can grant.”
“Such as something fleshy to sink this steel into?” Denaos asked. “I quite agree.”
“Look,” Dreadaeleon attempted to protest, “ordinarily, I’d agree, but we’re on an island full of longfaces with a stuck boat and a bunch of other longfaces marching-”
“They’re on boats.”
“-sailing-”
“Oars.”
“-oaring to kill our friends. Point being, options are limited.”
“Options are never so limited that we have to deal with the monster that sold us to other monsters.” The coldness of Asper’s voice betrayed just how much fury she was trying to contain.
“Look, I know she-”
“No, Dread,” she continued with a tempestuous calm, “you don’t know. You can never know and I hope to whatever god watches over you that you don’t ever have to know what she did to m-” She caught herself, bit her lower lip. “All you need to know is that she did something terrible, to all of us, and that if you try to stop Denaos, I’ll try harder to stop you.”