Wait. I know this word.
Water
Then, a few lines below, another familiar word.
Current.
Underneath it, there’s a small drawing of a ship that glides through water.
Biting down on my lip, I try to make sense of any of this. We know that the sea will lull you into a dream, or better, a nightmare, and that will kill you if you do not realize it soon enough. The body can only survive so long without water or food. There’s no wind to move the ship to safety.
But there‘s a current. There’s always a current. Maybe the ship can be moved with it if it's strong enough. That would explain the drawing of the ship. But what that drawing doesn’t tell me is how to find out where the currents are. The water surface looks calm, almost like a mirror, likely hiding what’s going on under the surface.
I flip through the remaining pages, looking for any clue that will tell me more about the currents, but the word does not appear on the page again. Sighing, I lean back against the soft, red leather of the chair. I guess there’s only one way to find out where the currents are the strongest. I have to look for them myself.
I take the books and hurry back to the main deck. I do not look Sable in the eyes as I press the books against his broad chest moments later, forcing a grunt from him.
The words spill out of me like a waterfall. “Read them for me. There must be strong currents here, at least I think there should be. I will get into the water and—“
“Risa,” He takes the books from me and furrows his dark brows together. “Slow down. On which page did you read this?”
“None,” I mumble, heat crawling towards my head. Instead of looking at him, I stare at the deck, counting knots in the wood. “I think it’s written there, and I would like you to confirm this for me.”
Sable studies me for a moment, trying to make sense of my words. As realization hits him, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
“Aye,” he simply says. “I will go through them again.”
My head snaps up, surprise breaking through the shame I was hiding behind, as my eyes find his. There’s no judgment in them, no bitterness. He does not mock me for it.
“And if you need help, we have one yawl ready that we can lower into the water. It’s small and faster than the longboat. Grim can accompany you.”
My mouth opens, then closes again. His trust in me makes my heart fill with warmth, and for a moment, it almost drowns out the disappointment still lingering beneath it.
Almost.
Because he still hasn’t said anything about the kiss or what he said to me about hope, as if he wanted it undone, as if it didn’t matter.
I draw in a slow breath and feel my shoulders tense.
“It‘s the easiest if I just swim by myself. After Lark, I need to recharge anyway.”
“Recharge?” he asks, the sharpness in his eyes dulling a little.
“Salt water. It fuels my powers.” I let out a breath. “Unless you want me to drown another man, that’s the only option.”
The words come out harsher than I intended, and I regret them instantly. He was the one taking care of me after I broke down that night. His brows pull together, and his jaw sets as he looks at me.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, already turning on my heel, ready to stride off to not make things worse between us. “I better get going.”
His hand wraps around my wrist, turning me back towards him in one swift movement. My pulse jumps at the unexpected touch.
I look at him until he loosens his grip.
“What did I do?” he asks, lifting a brow.
“What did you do?” I repeat. My fingers curl into my palms as the frustration I have been holding back since we woke up from that nightmare finally pushes its way out. “You… kissed me. Again. And you continue to act as if none of it happened.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says dryly. “I thought you wouldn't appreciate me discussing our love life in front of the crew. But say the word, and I can gather them on deck to tell them in detail just how much I enjoyed kissing you.”