David looked at Libraean. “My friend, what is happening?”
“In case anyone has forgotten,” Lucius interrupted before he could reply, “we are in the middle of the ocean on a ship that is standing still, vulnerable not only to the dangers at sea, but whatever else Angelique decides to throw at us. Perhaps we should decide our next course of action before regaling him with our latest escapades.”
Sandrine abruptly resurfaced from the captain’s quarters, securing the door behind her with a forceful push.
“How is she?” Morrigan asked.
“Naturally, Cahira is furious with you,” Sandrine replied coolly. Though Morrigan was tall, she seemed taller, her mound of coiled hair grazing the ceiling of the cabin. She wore thick trousers tucked into dark men’s boots, but her shirt was light and flowing against her sepia-toned skin. “It’s better that she rests without additional upset. We might be away from land, but there are still plenty of ways an earth goddess can ruin our journey if angered. And Louis is correct, our ship is badly injured. We must figure out how to move it before it sinks to the bottom of the ocean. I would survive, but I’m sure the rest of you would prefer to reach land.”
“We could fly,” Lucius suggested.
“But what about our things?” Libraean objected. “And surely Jacob wouldn’t be able to handle that sort of travel. He hasn’t seemed well since we set sail.” He glanced at their cabin door as if reminded of his worry.
“I may be able to repair the masts and sails to the point where they can catch wind again,” Sandrine told them. “But we would still have to rely on it to go forward. The ship already holds so much water, I don’t know how long we will be able to wait for it to pick up.”
“I need to eat,” David abruptly interjected.
Lucius wordlessly ducked into his room and produced a bottle of animal blood which he thrust in David’s direction.
He took it gratefully, taking several large gulps before addressing Sandrine. “Have I met you before?” he asked with blood-stained teeth.
She didn’t respond immediately, taking a moment to study him. “My name is Sandrine. I am a friend of Cahira’s.”
“Sandrine, after I have eaten, I can help with the wind,” he said. “I’ve just woken from a long slumber, but if you’d like to try to mend the sails now while I regain my strength, I can assist you in getting the ship moving shortly.”
Sandrine nodded.
“I’ll help with the sails,” Lucius offered, surprising them all. Morrigan caught a hint of sadness in his amber-colored eyes. “I need the air,” he explained to her quietly.
Cahira burst out of the captain’s quarters. She dove at Morrigan, her face twisted by fury. “How could you?” she hissed.
Thankfully, Sandrine moved to intervene in one fluid motion, successfully blocking the attack before it unfolded. Lucius came immediately to Morrigan’s side, folding his arms as if waiting to defend her.
Morrigan’s stomach twisted at the raw pain streaked across Cahira’s face, suddenly overwhelmed by everything around her. She focused on the ocean water that swirled around her ankles, listening to the soft waves as they lapped against the boat. “Please forgive me,” she managed. “He told me it was the only way.”
“You shouldn’t have listened,” Cahira spat. From behind Sandrine’s strong arms, her eyes appeared entirely black with rage, no hint of the golden brown that usually warmed them. “I overheard your conversation—you chose your lover’s life over his.”
Sandrine’s deep, syrupy voice slid through the commotion, diffusing the tension with its tone. “Cahira, this is not the time. We must reach land and you must control your temper.”
Cahira’s eyes remained locked on Morrigan’s, despite her friend’s words of reason. Morrigan could still see the feisty girl she once loved hidden behind the womanly visage, hardened by time and riddled with grief. Cahira let out a sound of frustration, shaking herself free from Sandrine’s grasp and heading back up the ladder to the deck.
Morrigan deflated, trying to quell the emotion that threatened to break her. She caught the aroma of heavy spice, and looked up to see Lucius had crept closer to her during the exchange. She knew it took everything in him not to comfort her, and that thought proved enough to steady her sway. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed David observing their unspoken interaction with curiosity.
“Let us mend what we can,” Sandrine unknowingly intervened, motioning for Lucius to follow her back on deck.
David took another sip from the bottle he held, watching them disappear above deck before turning his gaze Morrigan’s way. “What was that all about?”
She swallowed, uncertain where to begin.
“We should let Morrigan rest,” Libraean’s voice mercifully broke in. The way he looked at her, with nothing but genuine kindness, pulled the rising sobs in her chest that much closer to the surface. “Our lady has been fighting many battles while you slept. I will fill you in on everything.”
“Of course.” David rose to his feet. She froze as he came up to her, pulling her into an embrace as he planted a swift kiss on her forehead.
She bolted to her room as soon as he released her, terrified she’d collapse before she reached the bed. She managed to land just in time, and whatever was holding her together dismantled into a hundred tiny pieces. She shut her eyes, focusing on the sound of the ocean until she fell asleep, her face coated in inky black tears.
david
Where are we?”
The foliage around Gaia stirred, a fluttering moth finding respite in her hair. She tucked a lock behind her ear before taking a deep breath. “After my death,” she began, “my soul lived quite happily in the Underworld for more years than I can recall. Upon its destruction, souls found themselves floating either to a place called Heaven, gathered by creatures called angels, or cast into Hell, the realm once called Tartarus. A few souls were told they did not belong in either place—for they were neither good nor bad—so they were ushered into the astral plane to live amongst the humans as ghosts. It was a confusing time for all. The angels told me I could stay in Heaven since I was apparently pure of spirit, but in my own realm because I am part goddess. So I chose a place that looked like home.” She paused to admire the breathing plant-life around her, a trace smile on her lips.
“Am I dead?” David asked, suddenly alarmed.
“You are a traveler of the realms, Davius,” she reminded him, sending a shiver up his back as she brought forth his ancient name. “You can come and go as you please. Whether you decide to stay here is up to you.”
David noticed a hummingbird had found its way in, its tiny wings fluttering as it sipped from a blossom. “Do not mistake my question for complaint, but why did you bring me to this place?”
“The Holy Watchers who reside in Heaven wish to speak with you.”
David’s heart sank. “So you are meant to manipulate me.”
A few petals had trickled down from the flower nursed by the tiny bird, and as it flitted back from whence it came, the bud fell completely from its vine. Gaia rescued it, twirling the stem between her fingertips. “I do not know their intentions. All I know is the kindness they offered me. I lived here undisturbed for eons before they came. They told me they wanted to contact you and asked if I would help. Forgive me, but even after all these years…” She glanced up at him shyly. “I did want to see you again.”
Relief flooded David, followed by a happy warmth that crawled into his cheeks. He realized it had been so long since he felt authentic, effortless happiness. “I can’t say it’s not wonderful to see you again.”
She beamed. “I was hoping you hadn’t forgotten about me.”
“How could I forget you?” David sputtered. “You are the reason I have a conscience, the reason I…” He grew quiet, the memory of Morrigan settling over him like a dark cloud. “Because of her,” he remembered.
