In deeper waters, p.13
In Deeper Waters, page 13
“But… we’ve been friends for a while now,” Dara continued, “and you flit in and out of my life with no notice. Where have you been? I thought you’d been captured again. I was worried.”
“I didn’t mean to worry you, but I really need your help now. Watch your head.”
The voices moved closer, and Tal craned his neck to find Athlen leading Dara into the cave. Her long brown hair was plaited and hung over her shoulder. She wore trousers and boots and a stiff blouse with long sleeves and a high collar that laced at the throat. She reminded Tal of Shay, except with a rounder face and lighter skin, and his eyes pricked with tears.
He missed Shay. He missed her blush when Kest teased her. He missed her disapproval when he and Corrie sneaked away. He missed her laugh when she and Garrett engaged in one game or another. He’d lost her dagger. He’d have to buy her a new one. If he ever saw her again. If she even wanted to be near him after what he’d done.
“What is this place?” Dara asked, toeing a golden goblet out of the way.
“My home.”
“This?” she asked. “This is where you sleep?”
“No.” Athlen motioned to the water. “Under there. It’s nice and calm, and there’s a nook right in the side of the cave wall, and…” He waved his hands. “It’s not important.” He pointed to Tal in the boat. “He’s important.”
Tal saw the moment Dara realized who he was, and her eyebrows jumped, and her jaw clenched, and twin spots of red appeared on her cheeks, then bled to her temples and down her neck.
“The missing prince! Athlen! What have you done? Did you kidnap him?”
Athlen scoffed and placed his hands on his hips. “No. I saved him.”
“He saved me,” Tal echoed. “From mercenaries.”
Dara’s eyes widened at the raw sound of his voice, and she dropped to her knees at the edge of the water. Leaning over, she reached for him, then hesitated.
“Um…”
“You may touch me.”
Athlen crinkled his nose. “You have to ask?”
“He’s royalty. Of course you ask.”
“I didn’t.”
“I make exceptions for myths from the sea,” Tal said with a loopy smile.
“I’m not a myth,” Athlen muttered.
Dara rolled her eyes, then laid her palm on his forehead. “You’re burning up. What happened to you?” Tal opened his mouth to respond, but she shook her head. “Never mind. Don’t talk. It’ll be nonsense with a fever this high.”
“He’s bleeding, too. His shoulder.”
A wrinkle appeared on Dara’s forehead as she pulled the blankets away and found Tal’s bloody shirt. She pursed her lips as she inspected the wound. Tal grimaced when she skirted her fingers over his shoulder, then she shushed him when he groaned. “We need to clean and bandage it, as well as the other wounds.” She lifted Tal’s battered hand. “Even small cuts can go bad. Then we need to get him out of these wet clothes and warmed up.” She nodded to Athlen. “Hand me my bag.” Then to Tal, “Can you sit up?”
Grabbing the side of the boat, Tal struggled to sitting, but his body shook and his head spun.
Dara’s frown deepened, and she steadied him with a hand on his back.
Tal stayed stiff and still as Dara inspected and bandaged him. She poured a foul-smelling liquid over the puncture wound that stung and burned, and he gritted his teeth to keep from flinching. Then, using a bundle of cloth from her bag, she tightened a bandage around his shoulder and bound his arm to his chest. She rubbed a salve on his blistered hands and bandaged them as well. She checked his weeks-old head gash, and he grimaced as she clipped the crude stitches. She stabilized his swollen knee with sticks laid along either side of the joint, then wrapped it in cloth. She gave him fresh water in a canteen, and Tal resisted the urge to gulp it down.
“He needs dry clothes. Athlen, do you have any stashed here?”
Athlen scurried to the other side of the cave, and in a dark corner sat a chest. He flung it open and pulled out a pair of trousers and a shirt that were finer than anything Tal had seen him wear. Tal blushed when he needed both Athlen and Dara to help him change while he stood shivering in the damp air of Athlen’s home, his toes curled on the wet, chilled shelf of rock, and goose bumps blossoming over his skin. With his face flushed red from fever and sunburn, he hoped they wouldn’t notice his embarrassment. If they did, they didn’t comment. Athlen had no compulsions about nudity anyway.
Dara held up Tal’s tattered shirt between her thumb and forefinger. “I’m going to throw this away.”
“Wait.” Tal lunged forward, stumbling over a cache of trinkets. Athlen caught him by the waist as Dara handed over the shirt with a raised eyebrow and a wrinkled nose.
With trembling fingers Tal dug into the chest pocket, and despite the fight and the rough water, the shark’s tooth was miraculously still tucked inside. Tal clutched it in his palm, the comforting edge blunted by the bandages.
“The tooth?” Athlen asked. “You kept it?”
“Yes.” Tal’s mouth went dry. “It helped me when I was captured.”
“Oh?” Athlen’s gaze flitted to Tal’s hand, then to his face. “Oh.” His lips curled into a small smile. “Really?”
Tal’s cheeks blazed as he nodded. His knees trembled and Athlen clasped him tighter. This close, Tal tipped his head back to meet Athlen’s unwavering gaze. He spied the light line of freckles that spread over the bridge of Athlen’s nose, and the dimple in his cheek, and the slope of his neck as the collar of his shirt slipped sideways. Tal’s blood pounded and his head swam, and he didn’t know if it was due to illness or something else, something about Athlen’s proximity and the strong cage of his arms and the salty smell of his skin.
“You need to lie back down,” Dara said. “Before you fall.”
Athlen jumped, and Tal grasped his shirt in his free hand to keep from sliding to the ground.
“I’m sorry!” Athlen said, grip bordering on painful. “Are you all right?”
Tal shook his head, but the dizziness persisted. “I don’t feel—”
“You’re dehydrated and feverish,” Dara said, interrupting. “And with your arm bound, your balance will be off. Let’s get you back in the boat. It’s the only level and uncluttered place in here.”
As much as he disliked the notion of sleeping in the jolly boat, there wasn’t much choice. Settled back against the hull like cargo, in fresh clothes and bandages and wrapped in blankets with a cushion under his head, Tal was finally warm. He didn’t feel strong by any means, and his belly sloshed with water and no food, and his hands itched, but he was safe.
He was safe, even if he didn’t want to consider what he’d done to escape, how he’d blazed his way free. He clamped down on the feelings of weakness and shame that welled in him, banished them as best he could, and closed his eyes against the images of fire and smoke. Instead he focused on the tight wrap of clean bandages against his skin and the musty smell of his borrowed shirt. Tal squeezed the shark’s tooth in the clutch of his hand, the point digging into his palm, securing him to the present and to Athlen like a tether. He listened to Athlen and Dara whisper to each other, the soft sound of their voices a comforting hum. Tal breathed deeply; the fresh air of Athlen’s cove was a far cry from the ash-laden, hot air that had bubbled from the scorched planks of Zeph’s ship.
After a few moments Tal felt grounded, and he slid the tooth into the pocket of his trousers and opened his eyes to peer at the hole in Athlen’s ceiling. The stars twinkled above him, and the half-moon was partially obscured by clouds. The dawn was so long ago, and the events of the morning seemed more like a dream than a memory, as blurred as he had been. How long had he slept? How long had Athlen towed him through the seas?
“What happened to the storm?”
The fierce whispered conversation between Athlen and Dara ended abruptly.
“The storm?” Dara asked. She leaned over, blocking Tal’s view of the sky, and brushed the back of her hand over his cheek. “His fever has gone down, so he shouldn’t be delusional.”
“He’s not,” Athlen said, his voice hinting at amusement. “I told him this morning there was a storm brewing. It’s already passed by on the sea.”
Tal furrowed his brow. “Oh.”
“I’ll let you know if another one is coming.”
“You can do that?” Dara asked, braid whispering over Tal’s chin as she turned away.
A passing cloud spliced the moon in two. The cavern darkened, awash in shades of blue and droplets of gold.
“Yes. When I’m near the sea. I haven’t traveled far enough inland to try it on land.” Athlen splashed his toes in the water. “You should rest, Tal. Dara and I will keep watch, if you’re worried.”
“Not worried. I know I’m safe here.”
“Good.”
Tal’s eyes slid closed. The gentle rocking of the boat soothed him, and the rhythm of the waves beyond the cave reminded him of home and of the sounds of the waves on the beach outside his bedroom window. Bundled in warmth, he slipped along the edge of sleep.
“What was your plan?” Dara whispered. “You can’t keep him here forever. He’s sick, and this damp cave isn’t going to do him any good. What if he gets worse?”
“If he gets worse, then I’ll bring him to your house.”
“Across the town where the missing prince was last seen? He’ll be recognized in an instant.”
“Is that not a good thing? It’ll get him to his family. That’s what he wants. That’s what he needs.”
Dara huffed. “A group of mercenaries tried to kill him! It’s not safe for him to be seen in public, much less with a boy who has a reputation for being strange. You don’t know who else is after him or what people might say or think. He’s a prince.”
“Is that a problem? That he’s a prince?”
“You don’t understand.” Dara’s tone wasn’t condescending, but fond and gentle. “I don’t know what it was like where you’re from, but princes don’t cavort with commoners. And certainly not that prince. According to rumor, this is the first time he’s left the castle in years, and he’s already been kidnapped and almost killed.”
Tal squirmed and shifted in the boat. Dara wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t mean he liked what she was implying.
“Two people,” Tal mumbled, tongue thick in his mouth.
“What was that?” Athlen’s voice went sharp. “Two people?”
“Zeph and her crew kidnapped me, but before that, one of my brother’s sailors tried to kill me too.” If that sailor had succeeded, then Tal wouldn’t have killed Zeph and her crew, and his family wouldn’t have to worry about him any longer. Maybe that would’ve been better, if Tal hadn’t yelled for help, if Shay hadn’t intervened. It was an unsettling thought, and one Tal entertained only briefly, because despite his inner turmoil, he knew he needed to live to save his family. But the ache of his decision to hurt and to destroy teased at the back of his mind. It left him feeling hollow.
“See?” Dara said, voice bordering on shrill. “His brother’s own crew tried to kill him. He can’t trust anyone except his family. You have to get him home.”
“I’ll take him now. We’ll get a boat and we’ll—”
“He’s too weak to move. He needs a few days to recover before you go galivanting around the kingdom.”
“No boats,” Tal said. “No more boats.”
“Fine. No boats. We’ll go by land.”
Tal cracked open an eye. “Will you be okay on land?”
“I’ll manage.”
Dara sighed. “Go to sleep, princeling.”
Tal winced at the moniker, panic thumping hard in his middle, and he roused out of his drowsiness, Zeph’s sneers and taunts echoing in his ears. “Tal please. Just… call me Tal.”
“Tal,” Dara said, tone going soft. “Get some rest. We’ll talk more in the morning. You too, Athlen. You swam for hours—you must be exhausted.”
Athlen’s shoulders relaxed and he wilted forward, propping his head on his hands, his elbows on his knees. Fatigue was evident in the line of his body and the circles under his eyes. Tal hadn’t noticed before. “You’ll watch over him?”
“Of course. My mother won’t start to worry until the morning.”
Athlen nodded, his eyelids lowering. He tossed his hat into a rounded corner. “I’ll be right here. I won’t go into the water. Just in case you need me.”
He didn’t move to another part of the cavern, merely curled into a ball on his side, his head pillowed on his hands, a testament to his exhaustion. Lying on the shelf, he was level with Tal. Their faces were a scant foot apart, the side of the boat the only thing between them. In the low light and shadows Athlen appeared otherworldly—cold and beautiful and beyond Tal’s reach. But his smile was warm.
“Thank you,” Tal whispered. “Thank you both.”
“Go to sleep, Tal.”
Tal nodded and closed his eyes, face tipped toward Athlen, secure in the knowledge that both his new friends would watch over him in the night.
* * *
“Tal! Wake up! I brought food.”
Tal startled, body jumping, boat rocking beneath him. His eyes flew open, and he groaned, clenching them shut as the high sun blinded him. He attempted to throw up a hand as a shield but found himself bundled in a way he couldn’t move. He squeezed his eyes shut, intense orange bleeding through his eyelids.
“You’ve been asleep for hours. It’s almost midday.”
A shadow passed over him, and cautiously Tal cracked open an eye. He’d slept the morning away, yet he could have continued sleeping if Athlen hadn’t been so loud.
Athlen stood above him, wearing his wide-brimmed hat and a shirt and a pair of trousers with tattered hems and a hole in the knee. His pale toes wrapped around the edge of the ledge. He held a tin pan of food that smelled hot and delicious enough to rouse Tal. His stomach rumbled as he untucked his blankets and pushed his body to sitting.
“Here. It’s from the tavern. I asked for everything they had for breakfast.” Athlen set it on Tal’s lap with a wide grin. “I have to return the plate when I go for lunch. And I promise to clean off a spot today for your bed. I know you don’t want to be in that boat any longer than you have to.”
Athlen rambled while Tal stared down at the pile of fluffy eggs, sausage links, and two large biscuits. His stomach cramped with hunger and nausea. He balanced the plate on his knees, and using his unbound hand, he scooped the food into his mouth with abandon. The eggs were salty, the sausage was greasy, and the biscuits were a little hard, probably a day old, but it was the best meal Tal had eaten since leaving the castle. He shoveled it in, uncaring that he was staining the bandages on his fingers or that all sense of decorum had been tossed aside in favor of food.
“Here’s water.”
Athlen’s voice startled Tal, so focused was he on the plate in front of him, but he took the canteen gratefully and sucked down the cool, clean water between bites.
“Dara left before dawn, but she’ll be back this afternoon to check on you,” Athlen said as he moved gracefully around his home. He had a pile of blankets at the entrance that he’d brought with the plate of food. He moved to the spot closest to the wall and cleared a space, pieces of gold, jewels, and earthenware plunking into the water or rolling along the rocky ledge. Athlen hauled the blankets over and laid them out with care, straightening the edges and smoothing down the plush fabric. “I heard that princes are used to thick beds. Is this good, or do I need to get more blankets?”
Tal smiled, and warmth that wasn’t related to his fever spread through his chest. “It’s fine. Thank you.”
Athlen grinned. “How’s the food?”
“It’s good. It’s the most I’ve had in days.” Tal flinched as soon as the words tumbled out, and he was awash in the memory of the gnawing hunger and unceasing thirst that had plagued him while he was on the ship. He absently licked his fingers, then bit into another sausage as his thoughts raced inevitably toward the circumstances of his escape and his mind’s eye replayed cruel images of the choices he’d made. He drank more water, and it sloshed down his throat, hitting his filling stomach. He grimaced, feeling the food as well as his guilt stack up in his gullet, his next bite lodging at the top. Everything soured and was rejected, and Tal clapped a hand over his mouth, willing the food to stay down. It didn’t work, and he doubled over before vomiting into the water. His back bowed, and his stomach heaved, and tears streamed from the corners of his eyes.
He hated boats. He hated water. He hated throwing up. And he hated that this had become a common occurrence.
Once it was over, he dropped heavily back into his blankets. Sweating, he breathed deeply and swallowed several times to keep another incident at bay.
Athlen stared at him, clutching his hat, skin pale. “Is that normal?”
A laugh bubbled up at the ridiculousness, and Tal clutched his stomach with his good arm. “No, it’s not. I think I ate too much too fast. I’m sorry I wasted it.”
Athlen waved Tal’s concern away. His mouth tilted in worry and uncertainty. “Should I get Dara?”
“No.” Tal shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”
“Maybe we should get you out of the boat?”
“That’s a good idea.” Tal’s head ached from the light pouring in, and the spot Athlen had cleared was in a darker corner, where he could easily slip back into sleep.
With Athlen’s help, Tal was able to step from the boat to the ledge and walk to the pile of blankets. He eased down onto them, and Athlen fussed, covering him with another bedspread and tucking him in. He placed a cool palm on Tal’s forehead.
“I should’ve found you quicker.” He sat by Tal’s side. “I should’ve intervened on the beach.”
Tal squinted. “No. They would’ve hurt you.”
Athlen slid his fingers to Tal’s overheated cheek. “They did hurt you.”
“There was nothing you could’ve done.” Tal leaned into Athlen’s touch. “They were prepared.”
