Dragonoak (13 page)

She was
right. She should've been there.

Someone
should've been there.
Anyone. I should never have had to face that alone, yet how was
Kouris to know what I was going through? I'd left with a friend and
I'd been gone for days, just as I always had in the past. Katja
knew what she was doing. Knew that Kouris wouldn't think to look
for me.

I sat
up, rubbing my hands against my face.

Easing
herself to her full height, Kouris opened up her arms and I wanted
nothing more than to rush into them. I wanted to cling to her and
feel her arms wrapped tightly around me as I listened to her hearts
pounding, wanted to know that I was safe, that I was free, but I
couldn't bring myself to move. Not even towards Kouris, who I
trusted over all others.

“I need
to...” I murmured, running my fingers over my bloodied arms and
face, pulling the scraps of my shirt back over my stomach. “Need to
wash.”

“Aye,”
Kouris said, arms falling back to her sides a moment
later.

I worked
on swinging my legs over the side of the bed while Kouris picked
out some whole, clean clothes. Usually she'd sew up anything I'd
torn and patch up worn fabric, but there was no saving what I was
wearing. I found my feet more easily, this time, and Kouris
gathered up the pieces of bread I'd thrown across the room without
a single word.

I kept
the blanket pulled around myself, sweltering as we made our way out
of the hut. Night had fallen and the tavern lights had pulled the
pirates towards them, but I couldn't risk them seeing something
bright burning in the distance. I walked with the blanket pulled
over my head, taking slow, unsteady steps, and let Kouris' shadow
engulf me.

“... if I'd known. If I had
any
idea,” Kouris kept saying, “I
would've been there in half a second, yrval. You've gotta believe
me. I thought... thought you'd gone off with Akela after
all.”

I nodded
for her benefit, barely able to take in her words, barely able to
register her hurt over my own. There was a rock pool minutes from
the hut, creeping into a cave at the foot of the cliffs, but the
journey there lasted a lifetime. I all but collapsed into the water
once we reached it, and Kouris sat atop a rock with her back to me,
giving me all the time I needed to peel my filthy clothes off and
submerge as best I could in the shallow water.

The light spilling from my skin lit up the surface of the
rock pool like a moon that had drifted too close, and I saw the
blood clearly enough. I scrubbed at my arms and stomach until I was
scratching, ducked my head under the water and pulled chunks
of
something
from
my hair, but no matter how thoroughly I cleaned myself, an oily
film continued to cling to my skin. In the end I gave up and pulled
myself onto the rocks, putting on the clothes Kouris had brought
for me without waiting until I was properly dry.

I stared
out at the ocean, and Kouris kept her back to me until I spoke
up.

“... I
miss Claire,” I said, words trickling out of me.

“Haven't
heard you mention her in a good long while,” Kouris said, leaning
forward so that her elbows were rested on her knees. “I miss her
too, though. I've made a lot of friends in all my years, but she's
one that I won't ever be forgetting.”

“I just,” I said, plunging my hands back into the water. “I
keep thinking about how
scared
she must've been, at the end. When everything in
Isin came crashing down, when there was nothing but fire. We left
her alone to face that.
I
left her alone. I should've been with her that
morning, but I... I loved her and I never
said
anything.”

“Come
now, yrval,” Kouris said, trying to soothe what roiled within me
with mere words, “We don't know that she's—”

“You
don't think she's dead?” I asked, voice rising, trembling. “You
were there, Kouris. You saw what became of Isin. Do you really
think Claire would run away if there were still dragons there? If
people still need help?”

There was nothing Kouris could say. Slumping forward, I
pressed my forehead to my knees, shaking, not wanting Kouris to
reach out to me, but not wanting her to stay still, either. I raked
up small stones and smooth shells from the bed of the rock pool and
clutched them in my fists, reminding myself that I had to breathe,
I had to breathe, even if I didn't
need
to.

“Charley's dead too, isn't he,” I grumbled into my
lap.

Kouris
moved closer, close enough to place her hand on the rock next to
mine.

“I'm
here if you need me, yrval. I won't be going anywhere.”

I
couldn't bring myself to take her hand, but the fact that it was
there was enough. I covered myself with the blanket as we headed
back to the hut, dropped it on the floor and collapsed into my bed.
Kouris hovered in the doorway, holding back her goodnight, and when
I fixed my eyes on her and could neither bring myself to ask her to
stay or leave, she settled halfway between the bed and the
doorframe.

Hours
passed and I stared at the ceiling, no strength left inside of me
to stay awake with; yet every time I closed my eyes, I found it
impossible to mute my mind. It wasn't that I was afraid of sleep. I
just...

I didn't
want to drift into that darkness again.

“Kouris?” I whispered, not waiting for a reply. “When you
were beheaded, you saw something, didn't you?”

The
floorboards creaked as she turned towards me, face lit up by my
skin.

“Aye,”
she replied, “There was something there, alright. Trees and
sunlight and a hundred other things it hurts to think
about.”

I
dropped my arm off the side of the bed and Kouris wrapped her
fingers around my hand, holding on until dawn broke and I drifted
off to sleep.

*

For a
month, I stayed in the hut, occasionally heading out in the dead of
night to sink into the rock pool. I helped Reis out with accounts,
fetched whatever they needed from around the hut, and took it upon
myself to make every meal. The glow beneath my skin dimmed but
wouldn't fade completely, no matter how I tried snuffing it out;
holding my breath didn't work, and neither did sitting out on the
edge of the pier during a storm; and eventually, I began to forget
it was there.

Until I
was faced with the prospect of anyone else seeing me.

For a
month, I'd hidden away in my room every time somebody came around.
Atthis visited once a week, asking after me, and though there was
no anger in his voice, no blame directed at me, I couldn't bring
myself to face him. I'd thought I'd be able to be around Akela, but
with every day that passed, I became more and more aware of what
she'd seen, and began to imagine what she'd think the next time she
laid eyes on me. Kouris told me that people asked after me around
the docks and taverns, but I was more reluctant than ever to let
them know what I was.

I'd
intended to stay inside until I felt better, but that was a vague,
unattainable concept. Nothing changed within the burrows driven
into my head, the paths that thoughts flowed through, and every
morning when I woke – when I so rarely managed to sleep for more
than an hour – I grasped at the chains that were no longer around
my wrists.

It was
only the ocean that drew me out. Listening to the wind on the waves
wasn't enough for me anymore; I missed feeling it surge and pulse
beneath my body. When I told Kouris that I thought I might try
fishing, so long as no one else was around, she was only too eager
to help. She couldn't stay inside with me forever, I knew that, and
though I didn't resent the time she spent in Mahon, down at the
docks and within the taverns, it did nothing to help with the
tunnelling emptiness that opened up when the sun set.

“We've
got a boat for the day. Not exactly hard when you drop Reis' name.
Or when you're nearing on nine foot tall, I suppose,” she'd said.
“Akela wants to know if she can come along. Says she'll make a cake
for the occasion.”

I didn't
have the words to express the fact that I didn't want her there,
though I wanted her there, and in the end answered with a
nod.

Akela
brought the boat around the next morning. It would've been big
enough for five people, had they all been human, and she'd packed
it full of more ale and cake than we ever could've worked our way
through. Steeling myself, I walked down the pier to jump onto the
deck, and Akela grinned at me as though I wasn't broken, as though
she wasn't angry that I'd avoided her for so long.

We
headed out further from Port Mahon than we needed to. It faded in
the distance until there was only the ocean all around us, gentle
waves sparkling with light. The months of ash were drawing to a
close, but the sun couldn't begin to contend with my skin, and for
a few hours, the rest of the world disappeared while we drank and
drank as we pretended to fish.

Kouris
had always told me the pane didn't take well to water, but she had
no problem stretching out on the deck and snoozing in the
sun.

“Are you
hearing Atthis' good news?” Akela asked me, idly pulling in her
line and frowning at the untouched bait.

“Kouris
said something about it. He got a letter from Kastelir, didn't he?”
I said, and didn't have to force my hopes down. A letter was just
that; a piece of parchment that wasn't going to get us
home.

“Yes, yes! He is going to visit someone, I am not knowing
who, hoping he is able to pay enough to send a letter, and it is
turning out that they are already receiving one from Asar. Months
ago! Of course, nobody is caring about such a letter, and Atthis,
he has a little gold left. They are letting him take it,” Akela
said, claiming another drink, “And are you knowing which part is
the most amazing? It is from his
son
, Goblin. Now, the letter, it is
not being addressed to Atthis, it is only a general plea for help,
yes? But still. It is something!”

“I
thought his son's name was Galal,” I said, scolding myself for not
being able to muster the enthusiasm to give any other
reply.

Shrugging, Akela said, “Ah, it is close enough. You see,
Atthis' son, he is a soldier, and he is working for me. Very small,
very cute, yes. One day, I am forgetting his name, and so I am
using the first word that comes to mind. Somehow, it sticks!
Secretly, I think perhaps Atthis, he is calling him
Goblin
by mistake,
sometimes.

“He is
very happy to be hearing this news. To know that his son is not
only alive, but that there is a resistance in Kastelir!”

I
hummed, hoping I sounded pleased for him. Hoping I was smiling.
Atthis had received the sort of news that all of us were aching
for, and I ought to have congratulated him. I should've found him
and told him that I was happy for him, that there was hope anew for
all of us within that letter. Instead, I'd only hid away from
him.

“Atthis,
he's... are you living with him?”

“Yes,
yes. Reis, they are finding a new place for us. Another apartment,”
Akela said, glancing away as we both felt a shift that could've
turned the conversation sour. “It is strange, no? Here I am, living
amongst pirates, sharing an apartment with a King! I am almost not
believing it myself.”

I
managed a smile at that. I didn't tell Akela I was glad that she
was there, though I wanted to, and as she closed her eyes, leaning
back and soaking up the sun, I moved to the stern of the
boat.

Leaning
over the edge, I trailed my fingers through the water. Kastelir
wasn't gone, not all of it. There were still people fighting for
it, people fighting the dragons, and all we had to do to get back
was cross the ocean. All we had to do was keep sailing across the
endless waters.

I moved
onto my knees, stared down at my broken reflection, and gentle
waves scattered misplaced light around. It was deeper here than it
was around the rock pool. Deeper than it was anywhere. I leant
down, arm slipping into the sea as the surface lapped around my
elbow, and I thought that it might be deep enough to wash my skin
clean of the light I was plagued with.

I didn't
dive in. Not exactly. I let myself fall forward, and the moment I
hit the water, the moment the sea wrapped all around me, I knew it
didn't matter. I didn't have to be scared; I was stronger than all
of this. Bubbles burst to life all around me, and I sunk until my
body wouldn't carry me deeper, stretching out and kicking my legs,
swimming down, down, into the darkness.

My lungs
ached for air but I didn't need it. They threatened to burst within
my chest but my mind only became more focused on the bottom of the
sea, the bottom of everything. I'd be able to reach it, if I only
kept going.

But I
thought of Kondo-Kana, drowned in the ocean.

Asar
wasn't at the bottom of the sea. I wasn't ever going to reach it if
I kept swimming down, down, trying to bury myself in the heart of
Bosma.