This is part of an ongoing series - if you find yourself here, confused, head on back and read from the beginning. I promise we'll still be here when you get back :)
Whoohoo, double digits! Thanks to everyone who's made it this far with me; this story wouldn't be here without the support of everyone who has left comments, or sent feedback, or rated. Honestly. It means the world.
A quick reminder; this is the second installment of the Islands interlude, which means no sex scenes. We'll be back to our reg scheduled program soon. Had trouble coming up with an alternate title for this one; let me know what you guys would have called it! :)
As always, comments and feedback greatly appreciated. Peace, love, stay safe and all of that.
*****
"Hyrun," I said, trying to keep my voice blank.
I suppose more of my emotion must have slipped into my word than I intended, because Val reached up and rested a hand on my shoulder. "You'll never be out of sight of the sea."
I nodded miserably. It had taken us five days to reach this place, five days of constant misery and frustration. Val had insisted that we find passage and had refused to let me do it, saying that we needed to keep a low profile. I had argued with him, reminding him that I was not in hiding, merely dead, but he had booked our passage on a small fishing vessel headed to Hyrun to drop off her load.
A fishing vessel.
To add insult to the injury, we were taken on as passengers, (Me! A passenger! "The last time I was on a ship and was not sailing it, it was because I was in irons," I had muttered angrily to Val, and he had shushed me with a hurried smile at the men around us), and Val had insisted that we pay for our passage (Imagine it! Paying to traverse the sea!). I managed to stay somewhat sane for the first three days, until one of the men mis-tied a knot as the Captain made an incorrect reading and it starting looking like I'd have to spend another day on that godforsaken contraption, and I muscled the sailor out of the way and tied the knot proper, better, while snapping at the Captain the correct bearing and Val couldn't help but laugh. "God damn land boys," I told him, and he merely laughed again and waved his scarf noncommittally.
With my help, we made it to Hyrun quicker than the Captain had expected, giving us time to stop by at the traveler's docks, a much preferable first step than the fishing wharfs. That was where we were when Val tried to comfort me, when I realized what was ahead of me; Hyrun.
Hyrun was massive.
I could see the terraced city rising up above us, could see the houses built sturdy on rock and stone.
Never out of sight of the sea
, I thought, eyeing the way each street rose up higher on the mountain than the last, how the roofs of one row of houses only covered the first floor windows of the next.
It wouldn't be enough.
I sighed, and Val patted my arm comfortingly. "Come on," he said, moving forward along the dock.
When he hit land I actually stumbled, feeling the sudden absence of sea beneath me like a loss of gravity. Val pretended not to be affected but I saw how white his knuckles were, his fingers woven tight through the silk of his scarf.
"How do people live like this," I grumbled, ignoring the strange looks I was getting from a group of well-dressed travelers.
"Most people aren't as big of babies as you," Val shot back, but I noticed that he still hadn't let go of his scarf. He looked up to me, his eyes hiding concern behind mock frustration. He knew exactly what I was going through. He felt the same pieces of his soul keening. "Are you quite ready?"
I shrugged. I would never be ready for this.
"Baby," he muttered, and moved forward and up the island.
The first thing I noticed was how uncomfortable I was. The last time I had been on land so solid had been my purgatory; this was raising memories for me that were best left behind, in dark holes and darker souls. Loud noises made me jump; I raised my hand in expectation of a strike at shadows.
I could feel Val watching me carefully. I wondered what he must have thought, seeing me jump at such innocuous things. He was used to seeing me so sure, so calm. Confident. Dangerous. And I was, still, I would never not be dangerous, but I had spent nearly three years in hell and the sea had left me there. There, I had been without even the basest part of my soul and to be here, to stand on this earth I could not help but hold fear in my stomach that at any moment that emptiness would become my reality again. That it was my reality, that it always had been, that everything in the past few months had been nothing but a fluke. A mistake. That the sea did not want me back, that she would leave me again.
It was a very small fear, and an irrational one. I was the sea; I had not stopped being myself when I could not hear the ocean's call in my bones. But small things have a way of slipping through your fingers when you try to pin them down, and irrational fears are so very difficult to reason away.
The same, I'm sure Val was thinking as my eyes tracked a pickpocket, cold and easy. I flinched as a smith brought his hammer down on iron close to us, and Val flinched with me, flinched at me. The same, and so different.
He was able to watch me, because he wasn't thinking about himself. Not like I needed to, not like how my brain kept starting and stopping because the first thought would always seem to be a check that the ocean was there. It was so hard to get through thoughts unhindered, I was so distracted by the increasing distance of the ocean. But Val? That was the second thing I noticed, once I was able to get a handle on my own body. Val was comfortable. Val looked like he belonged.
I mentioned this to him, and perhaps there was a hint of accusation in my voice, but I was tired and and frustrated that I could not convince my body that not every shadow held a mine guard, a raised staff, a whip. Val seemed to understand this, and wasn't upset by the sting in my voice. He came here a lot, he explained. This was one of the major brothel centers, and he needed to stay informed and connected.
"That's why I needed us to come over here my way," he told me. "I needed them to know I was coming. That's how I always do it. They would be looking for me that way."
"I thought we needed to stay low," I challenged him, but he shook his head.
"This is staying low. Deviating from the regular pattern is asking for additional attention.
Stealing a fully armed sloop
," which had been my plan to get here, "is asking for additional attention."