“Shh.” He presses one finger against his mouth, instructing me to be quiet. My muscles tense and I swallow, then exhale the breath I’ve been holding. The ghost removes his hand slowly, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Just wanted to check in on you.” He moves back as I carefully sit up in the hammock, then takes a seat next to me. Thehammock doesn’t dip because of his weight, it is as if he’s not sitting in it at all.
“Sea almost took you today. Cap’n took a risk saving you.”
“He said I should not talk to you.” I swallow down the knot in my throat and hug my legs to my chest.
“And you listen to what the captain says like a good girl, huh?” It looks like he shakes his head and chuckles, but I can’t be certain. His movements are delayed and blur into each other, and his voice overlaps with itself with every word. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that I was dreaming.
I think of what Harrow said, that talking to these shadowy beings keeps them away from where they should be. That I shouldn’t even acknowledge them. So I close my eyes and press them together as tightly as possible, trying to block him out.
“Go away,” I whisper, over and over again.
“You know that’s not going to work.” He’s closer now, his voice whispering directly into my ear, sending the hairs on the back of my neck into a frenzy.
Still, I ignore him. He sighs, and it multiplies itself over and over again as it echoes through the orlop. When I open my eyes, I expect him to be gone, but he has made himself comfortable in the hammock, now lying in it on the opposite side from me.
“What do you want from me?” I finally ask, disregarding the no-talking-to-the-ghost rule.
“I wanted to see how you’re doing after today’s suicide mission.” He shrugs, then runs a hand through what is supposed to be his hair. It looks more like black flames dancing on his head. I wonder what it would feel like if I were to run my own hand through it.
“I’m doing wonderful. Now, what else do you want?” I spit, a biting edge to my voice. I am done playing games today. Tiredness is bringing out the worst in me.
“The Glim. Summoning it won't be an easy task.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I mutter as I lean back in the hammock. I wonder what it’s like being a ghost, and if he’s all alone on this ship.
“It’s a creation of the sea and will only show up when it must interfere,” he continues, stretching his limbs, his phantom legs brushing against mine. The sensation almost tickles, like walking through a spider web before you notice it. It isn’t unpleasant, just unusual. Unexpectedly pleasant.
Curiosity stirs within me. I can’t help myself. “Interfere?”
“In fate,” he murmurs, lowering his voice. “You’re here for a reason, Risa. The sea doesn’t make mistakes.”
My heart thumps in my chest. “Wait—what do you mean the sea doesn’t make mistakes?”
Suddenly, the ship lifts and drops so heavily that barrels topple and roll down the corridor. Water slaps violently against the hull. As fast as the wave came, it was gone again. The ghost carefully sits up and stills, checking if someone woke up. There’s only snoring in the distance.
“I can’t tell you more. But the Glim will not show up again unless the sea needs it to.”
“And the captain doesn’t know that?”
“He does. He’s just blinded by fear of losing his crew—and he is a very, very stubborn man.”
A smile tugs at my lips, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“I see. Insulting the captain is the way to make you laugh.” He grins mischievously, one of his silver brows lifting in mockery. “I like it, your laugh.”
Blushing, I quickly shake my head. He looks down at me, his gaze catching on the scales on my collarbones.
“I bet your tail would’ve been beautiful,” he says quietly, admiration softening his voice.
My chest tightens, and it becomes increasingly difficult to breathe. Tears sting my eyes, and I avert my gaze. I don't want him to see how much the thought upsets me.
“Sorry,” he whispers. His presence retreats slightly, but I still can’t bring myself to look at him. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I wipe a single tear from my cheek and prop myself up, then force myself to meet his gaze. He stands a few feet away now, his hands clasped behind his back. Shadows dance around him like black flames as his empty eyes find mine again.
“You should know,” he adds lightly, “your legs are beautiful too, in their own way.”