Page 18

Bastian

I don’t have cause to stretch myself magically all that often. Small glamours are easy enough to pull off, but anything large runs the risk of exposure. My parents trained me to control my magic to prevent it from accidentally slipping free, but even since joining the rebellion, there hasn’t been much opportunity to see what I’m truly capable of.

The risk was too high with the possibility of endangering Siobhan and the rest of the rebellion. A valid fear, because all it took was one mental shield that prevented me from using my magic and it all ended.

I’m pathetically grateful Siobhan wasn’t swept up alongside me when I was taken captive. She would consider it the preferable option, certain that she would be able to fight her way free, but it’s more likely that they would have taken us both, and gods forbid the C?n Annwn realize exactly what a treasure they held in their hand. I may be noble by birth, but I’m not delusional about my role within the rebellion. I play support. End of story.

Even now, as I fight to maintain the image of the phantom Audacity , sailing so far away that I can barely make it out, I’m aware that I’m replaceable. I have been since the moment I was born, first to my family and then to the rebellion. It’s strange something that stung so sharply with one situation is almost comforting in the other. I chose to follow Siobhan. That’s the difference.

The duplicate Audacity is far in the distance now, reaching the edge of my range. I grit my teeth and pour more magic into the glamour. I can see the ships following it, phantom shapes in the fog. “Just a little longer…”

A soft breeze, warm and deeply unlike the wind lashing at my face and hair, caresses the shell of my ear. “Bastian, you can release the glamour now.”

“Okay.” I let it go with a whoosh that slams into me and has my knees knocking together. Every muscle feels strangely liquid, my bones brittle, my head swimming in a way that has nothing to do with the violent rocking of the ship. I cling to the edge of the crow’s nest, determined to keep my feet. If I go down now, I’m not sure I’ll be able to get back up again. Siobhan has enough to worry about taking care of Nox without adding taking care of me to the equation.

I glance down at the deck, my gaze instantly drawn to the woman in question. She stands tall and strong, cradling Nox in her arms. Nox looks so damn small, and the care Siobhan takes with them, holding them close even as she speaks with Poet, makes my chest ache. I’ve held Nox like that, too, what feels like a lifetime ago.

I’m a greedy, unforgivable bastard. No matter how much I love Siobhan, I cannot fully exorcize my love for Nox. Even going without seeing them for fourteen years, that emotion never went away. I’ve heard all the stories of their exploits, how they worked their way up through Hedd’s crew until they became quartermaster, about everything they’ve done since becoming captain. They were already impressive when we were young and foolish and filled with so many dreams that the world was eager to crush. Now they’re on another level entirely.

An invisible massive hand wraps itself around my waist. Before I realize what’s happening, I’m lifted neatly out of the crow’s nest and brought down to the deck next to Siobhan. The moment I touch down, my knees truly do give out, and I collapse at her feet. I catch sight of a haggard-looking Bowen on the upper deck. He nods to me and then allows Evelyn to guide him down the stairs to the hatch where the crew’s quarters lay.

Our sails are filled with so much air that the masts’ creaks can be heard even over the wailing of the wind. It sounds like the screams of lost souls, if I believed that sort of thing. I don’t know that I do. Death is one giant unknown, and while various islands in Threshold have different cultural and religious beliefs, I’ve always found the mystery to be more attractive than answers. I rub my hand over my face. “How is Nox?”

“Unconscious, but they were running their mouth before they passed out, so I suspect they’ll be fine.” Siobhan shifts Nox into a singular muscular arm and holds out a hand to pull me to my feet. She puts a little too much strength behind it and I actually elevate several inches before landing hard on the deck again. If she hadn’t kept hold of me, I would be right back where I started. She winces. “Sorry. I’m a little distracted, too.”

“Understandable.” Things were so much easier when we thought we might die before the end of the day. No need to have tough conversations in those circumstances. The danger hasn’t passed entirely, but it’s abated enough that we’ll probably live to see another day. A pair of crew members scramble up the rigging to the crow’s nest; they’ll keep watch for the C?n Annwn.

We’ve done all we can do.

Poet approaches, looking just as harried as she always seems to be. Her frustration is apparent in every word she speaks. “Take the captain to their cabin. Both of you stay there with them and ensure they get their rest and manage some food when they wake up. Keep off the deck in the meantime. You look like you’re about to pass out, and I don’t have time to worry about one of my people tripping over you.”

Then she’s off, shouting instructions to the closest group of air-users. Siobhan and I exchange a look, and I can’t help a brittle laugh. “It’s kind of nice being treated frankly.”

“Poet certainly has a way about her.” Siobhan turns, seeming reluctant to release me, and starts toward Nox’s cabin.

Now’s the time to retreat to my bunk. No matter what we said, there’s a lot of mess left between us. Caretaking for Nox may create a bit of a bridge, but there’s still so much left unsaid…and things said that can’t be taken back. I called her a coward. The shame that brings me now cannot be overstated. Siobhan is well within her rights to toss me right out of her life.

We’re doing the thing. We’re going to fight the C?n Annwn and the Council and everyone who would see us fail. I know what Siobhan thinks will happen as a result—that every single member of the rebellion will die—and maybe I’m naive, but I can’t help the hope that blossoms in my chest. By all rights, the C?n Annwn should have found us out years ago. We’ve been operating in the shadows for a very long time, and they never noticed.

If we can succeed in that, who’s to say we can’t succeed in this as well? Especially if our hunch about the horn pans out.

“Bastian. Are you coming?”

My body makes the decision for me, trotting along after Siobhan. Inside Nox’s cabin, the sound of the storm abates so abruptly that I have to stop and adjust to the heavy silence. It’s strange to look out the windows and see the rain, wind, and waves and yet feel so separate from it. Lightning spears through the sky more rarely, but that’s the only indicator I have that we may be moving away from the storm. I glance over to find Siobhan pulling Nox’s tunic over their head, and I immediately spin back around to present my back.

“Bastian.” She sounds so exasperated that I have to fight not to wilt. “They can’t stay in their wet clothing.”

“I understand that.” But I don’t turn around. I haven’t seen Nox without the shield of cloth since the last night we spent together, and I don’t think they’d thank me for witnessing their vulnerability when they’re not conscious to decide if I should be in the room or not. Just because I’ve seen them naked before doesn’t mean that permission survived our breakup.

There’s still the faint rustling of cloth for several more moments before Siobhan finally says, “It’s safe to look now. I have them under the covers.”

I turn around reluctantly to find that she’s done exactly that, carefully tucking the sheets high over Nox’s chest. Which is right around the moment when I realize both Siobhan and I are dripping water all over the floor. “We’re going to have to clean up all this mess.”

“Without a doubt. Do you want the first shower or should I?”

“Lady’s choice.”

Siobhan rolls her eyes, but some of the tension that’s been riding so intensely in her shoulders has disappeared. “In that case, I don’t want to be wet and cold a moment longer than I have to. I’ll be quick.”

I pause long enough to remove my boots and jacket and pull my shirt over my head. That leaves me in my pants only, which is still decidedly miserable, but at least I’m a little bit warmer. If I had Nox’s fire magic, theoretically I could dry all of our clothing in moments, but in reality I’d probably just burn the clothing off by accident. From what I’ve heard, controlling glamour is so much easier than working with the elements. I’m simply tricking the minds of anyone who witnesses my magic into believing that something’s there that isn’t. In a one-on-one situation, I can even fool their senses, but it’s still a trick confined to their brain. Not reality.

The elements, though? They exist in a space outside of magic. Elemental users can coax or bully or persuade bits of the larger whole to obey their will, but it’s not without cost. Nox has proven that twice already in a handful of days. I’m exhausted and worn out and won’t be able to practice any magic until my inner well refills, but I’m nowhere near the level of burnout that Nox seems to be experiencing.

Worry worms through me. Even if magical burnout doesn’t kill the affected person, it’s entirely likely that if Nox does it enough times, they’ll lose access to the deeper parts of the well of their magic—if not all of their magic. The fact that they continue to risk it?

The captain takes care of everyone, but who takes care of the captain? Nox finally has the community they’ve been seeking since they were a child, but they still seem determined to hold themselves back, to shoulder all the burden so their people don’t have to.

Even as I tell myself they wouldn’t want my proximity, I can’t help drifting closer to the bed where they lay. There are shadows under their eyes and lines bracketing their mouth, even in sleep. “You push yourself too hard. You always have.”

“And you don’t push yourself hard enough…except that doesn’t seem to be true anymore, does it?” Their eyes flutter open but they don’t otherwise move their body, pinning me in place with those pale gray orbs. “We’re clear?”

“At least for now. With the storm and the fog and the wave, it will take them some time to figure out they’re no longer chasing us, but a ghost. The glamour’s gone, but the elements will work in our favor.”

“Good.” They shift and frown. “I’m naked.”

There’s no excuse for the bolt of heat that goes through me at their frank words. I have to actually turn away to hide the physical evidence of my desire—desire they didn’t ask for and wouldn’t welcome. I clear my throat. “Siobhan’s work. I didn’t look. I know that would have been crossing a line. No matter what else you believe of me, please believe that I don’t want to hurt you. I never did.”

“I know.” Nox sighs, sounding more tired than I’ve ever heard them. “We really were nothing more than children, playing pretend at a future that we could barely conceptualize. It’s easy to feel big things at that age, to be sure that the world will end because of a broken heart.”

I have no right to respond to that. Something I am aware of even as I open my mouth to speak. “Just because we were young doesn’t mean those emotions were false. I loved you with everything I had. My fear of my family cutting me off was just greater. I’ll never stop apologizing for that.”

They give a faint chuckle. “Bastian, please. You just saved the lives of myself and my crew with magic that defies comprehension. I don’t think there’s anything left to apologize for.”

As tempting as it is to leave it at that, I can’t. It wouldn’t be right. They’re trying to let me off the hook, but I don’t deserve it. “That is not the same, and you know it. I may have learned a lot in the intervening years, may have grown up as much as the rest of us seemed to, but I didn’t save your crew because I feel bad for what happened with us. I did it because it’s the right thing to do. It was the only way any of us had a chance of surviving.”

“I know.” They smile sadly. “But the fact that you’ve put up with my…messy emotions? That speaks volumes. Maybe I was too quick to cut you out of any future I might have.”

They make such massive jumps that I have a difficult time following them. “Are you saying…”

“They’re saying they still want you, Bastian.” Siobhan appears in the doorway to the bathroom wearing nothing but a long shirt that had to have come from a different closet than Nox’s. The only person I can imagine it fitting is Bowen, and I don’t like the thread of jealousy that spears me in response to that thought. It’s absolutely illogical in every way, shape, and form.

Nox gives that raspy laugh again. “Correction, darling. I’m saying I want you both. It’s complicated.”