Page 129 of A Flash of Golden Fire

“That storm… It ravaged the entire port,” Hillier said in low tones.

“Aye,” Mr Guthrie agreed. “The town itself. Cayonne.”

Horror filled me at his words.

I looked at the captain. “Is that true?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

I pulled my hand from Domingo’s grip and stepped toward Dinesh. “Then…you lied to me.”

He hesitated but then said, “Yes.”

“We thought it for the best,” Mr Guthrie explained.

The three of them looked at each other, as if wondering if that had been the best idea, after all.

I stared at Dinesh for a long moment, my heart lurching in my chest, both at this shocking information and at the sense of betrayal I felt. I blinked and shook my head as if I could deny the truth.

Then I marched to the rail, staring in the direction from which we’d come, feeling my bowels coil and my stomach reject the stew I’d eaten earlier. I saw the scorched handprints in the wood and placed my hands over them. So much death and destruction. Innocent lives lost. What had I done?

A hand came to rest on the small of my back as bile rose inside me. I leaned over the rail and retched.

The captain supported me, but when I was able, I wrenched myself away and ran for the only place I truly felt safe and at peace and alone. And where I could empty my protesting bowels without anyone watching.

I sat on the toilet in the privy, once my bowels had voided themselves in angry and violent protest, and thought about all the lives I’d ended. What was I that I could so easily kill so many, only to save those I loved? Could I keep saving our skins if my triumph meant that so many others would perish? Should I even try?

What a heavy burden to carry. And they’d known I’d have a hard time doing so. I couldn’t blame them for keeping the facts from me, but at the same time, I wished I’d known.

After some time, a knock came at the door.

“Go away,” I muttered.

There was a pause and then another two knocks.

“Christ, can’t a man take a shit in peace? Go. Away.”

There was a sigh and then Guthrie’s voice.

“I need to use the privy, Simon. Are you going to be done soon?”

For fuck’s sake.After what I’d been through, I wished I could have gotten some grace. There were other places where a man could take a shit. But I supposed that Guthrie, the ship’s cook, couldn’t be expected to use the hole tucked in the corner of the bow.

I put myself to rights, at least in terms of my appearance, got up, and opened the door.

“Thank you,” Mr Guthrie said, giving me a look of gratitude so sincere that I promptly burst into tears. I went to step aside, but he grabbed me and pulled me into his arms, circling them around me and holding me tight.

This proved to be exactly what I needed. My sobs came then, huge wracking cries that I worried might topple us both to the deck.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I blubbered. “You need to use the privy…”

“Nah, I don’t. That was a lie so you’d open the door.”

That made me cry harder. “Why is everyonelyingto me?”

“Because we love you, Simon. Not just the captain. But he’s so far gone he couldn’t bear to tell you the truth himself. He had to let Hillier confess.”

Fine. All right. That did make me feel somewhat better. He did love me. I knew he did. But the rest of them? Why shouldthey?

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