people
swarmed around us without seeing us, their voices rising to drown
each other's out, a buzz and a blur, rushing through me like rocks
being ground against one another; fading, fading, until the sound
of the sea returned to me, telling me that I was free.
I was
safe.
“Akela,”
I said. “How did... ?”
“How am I knowing that you are needing to be helped?” she
asked bluntly. “I am returning home, Northwood, and there is
a hand on my
table. You are in chains, covered in blood and vomit and I am not
knowing what else, and Kouris, she is saying that somehow, you are
to blame. She is... she is not well, Northwood. But she is sleeping
now. The tea, yes, it is very strong.”
“I-I'm
sorry. I thought you were going to—”
“Do not
apologise, Northwood. I am supposed to be back two days ago. If
only I am not running late...” Akela said, pier creaking as she
hoisted us off the beach.
The beat
of the sun stopped pressing down upon me and I shifted from Akela's
arms to the familiar comfort of the sofa.
“Bloody
hell,” Reis breathed, and I saw them push theirself to their feet.
I tried to focus on them, but all the colours in the world were
wrong, and the only reprieve was behind my eyelids. “What the
hell's happened here?”
Reis
grabbed their cane and hopped over to the sofa, not taking the time
to strap their leg back on. I hadn't told my body to, but every
muscle tensed as they approached, and I curled in on myself, trying
to disappear into the corner of the sofa.
“Careful,” Akela said, “I am not thinking that touching her
is such a good idea.”
“Look at
you,” Reis murmured. The blood on my glowing skin told enough of a
tale, and the scars I'd hidden for so long showed through what
scraps of my shirt remained. “I'm gonna sit on the edge of the
sofa, nice and slowly. That alright, kid? Gods. I've sailed with a
lot of types, but never a necromancer. You wanna tell me how we can
start fixing this up?”
I
pressed myself to the arm of the sofa as if held there by chains,
not knowing what to say, not knowing where to start. Reis was
perched on the far end of the sofa, just as they'd said, and didn't
try inching their way over to me. They simply held my gaze,
infinitely patient, not afraid of what they were seeing.
“How's
it feel?” they tried when words didn't come to me.
“Like...
like knots,” was the best I could do.
“Akela,
there should be a stash of bitterwillow in my room. Reckon it's
atop the crate left of the anchor. Fetch it for us, would
you.”
Akela
moved in silent compliance, and I glanced around the hut, telling
myself that I was home, I was home, that Katja couldn't hurt me
here, but everything within my body and mind alike were screaming.
Having found the bitterwillow quickly enough, Akela handed it to
Reis, who carefully placed it on the sofa between us. Holding their
gaze, I reached blindly for it, pulled it back and bit off as much
as I could at once.
I hadn't
used it for over a decade, but the effects were instantaneous. The
pain faded in a way that my powers didn't allow for, and enough
strength returned to allow me to ask for water. Reis gestured for
Akela to bring it over, and I took it without flinching, gasping
down my first mouthfuls in six days. Water rushed from the corners
of my mouth, soaking the sofa.
“Now,
feel like telling me which bastard did this to you, kid?” Reis
asked. “All this pissing about with Gavern means I ain't in the
mood to be as forgiving as usual.”
“...
Katja,” I said, hearing how ridiculous it sounded. Reis would never
believe me.
None of
them would. Not even Akela, who'd walked in on it.
“Katja?
Kouris Katja?” Reis said, dropping their head against the backrest
of the sofa. “Gods. Alright. Rowan, let Akela give you a hand to
your room. You've dealt with enough shit already.”
Akela
held out a hand and I gripped her wrist, pulled myself up and
walked to my room as well as I could without leaning on her.
swarmed around us without seeing us, their voices rising to drown
each other's out, a buzz and a blur, rushing through me like rocks
being ground against one another; fading, fading, until the sound
of the sea returned to me, telling me that I was free.
I was
safe.
“Akela,”
I said. “How did... ?”
“How am I knowing that you are needing to be helped?” she
asked bluntly. “I am returning home, Northwood, and there is
a hand on my
table. You are in chains, covered in blood and vomit and I am not
knowing what else, and Kouris, she is saying that somehow, you are
to blame. She is... she is not well, Northwood. But she is sleeping
now. The tea, yes, it is very strong.”
“I-I'm
sorry. I thought you were going to—”
“Do not
apologise, Northwood. I am supposed to be back two days ago. If
only I am not running late...” Akela said, pier creaking as she
hoisted us off the beach.
The beat
of the sun stopped pressing down upon me and I shifted from Akela's
arms to the familiar comfort of the sofa.
“Bloody
hell,” Reis breathed, and I saw them push theirself to their feet.
I tried to focus on them, but all the colours in the world were
wrong, and the only reprieve was behind my eyelids. “What the
hell's happened here?”
Reis
grabbed their cane and hopped over to the sofa, not taking the time
to strap their leg back on. I hadn't told my body to, but every
muscle tensed as they approached, and I curled in on myself, trying
to disappear into the corner of the sofa.
“Careful,” Akela said, “I am not thinking that touching her
is such a good idea.”
“Look at
you,” Reis murmured. The blood on my glowing skin told enough of a
tale, and the scars I'd hidden for so long showed through what
scraps of my shirt remained. “I'm gonna sit on the edge of the
sofa, nice and slowly. That alright, kid? Gods. I've sailed with a
lot of types, but never a necromancer. You wanna tell me how we can
start fixing this up?”
I
pressed myself to the arm of the sofa as if held there by chains,
not knowing what to say, not knowing where to start. Reis was
perched on the far end of the sofa, just as they'd said, and didn't
try inching their way over to me. They simply held my gaze,
infinitely patient, not afraid of what they were seeing.
“How's
it feel?” they tried when words didn't come to me.
“Like...
like knots,” was the best I could do.
“Akela,
there should be a stash of bitterwillow in my room. Reckon it's
atop the crate left of the anchor. Fetch it for us, would
you.”
Akela
moved in silent compliance, and I glanced around the hut, telling
myself that I was home, I was home, that Katja couldn't hurt me
here, but everything within my body and mind alike were screaming.
Having found the bitterwillow quickly enough, Akela handed it to
Reis, who carefully placed it on the sofa between us. Holding their
gaze, I reached blindly for it, pulled it back and bit off as much
as I could at once.
I hadn't
used it for over a decade, but the effects were instantaneous. The
pain faded in a way that my powers didn't allow for, and enough
strength returned to allow me to ask for water. Reis gestured for
Akela to bring it over, and I took it without flinching, gasping
down my first mouthfuls in six days. Water rushed from the corners
of my mouth, soaking the sofa.
“Now,
feel like telling me which bastard did this to you, kid?” Reis
asked. “All this pissing about with Gavern means I ain't in the
mood to be as forgiving as usual.”
“...
Katja,” I said, hearing how ridiculous it sounded. Reis would never
believe me.
None of
them would. Not even Akela, who'd walked in on it.
“Katja?
Kouris Katja?” Reis said, dropping their head against the backrest
of the sofa. “Gods. Alright. Rowan, let Akela give you a hand to
your room. You've dealt with enough shit already.”
Akela
held out a hand and I gripped her wrist, pulled myself up and
walked to my room as well as I could without leaning on her.
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