Page 39 of Virelai's Hoard
Please.
The rope tugged at their waist, and the siren gave them one last warning glare before turning and swimming away.
Eryx gasped, gripping their throat, their chest convulsing with the lack of air, and still they tried to resist, pushing against the limits of their lungs and the rope tugging them towards the ship to try and get one last glance at Pip, try to see where they were taking him–and then their vision spotted, their own body betrayed them, and Eryx started swimming toward the surface.
When they broke through the water and gasped in a desperate, life-saving breath, Eryx hated themselves for it.
12. Lines in the Sand
Sable
Sable breathed out evenly as she struck at the sandbag hanging in front of her, her movements quick and precise. The blade of her machete made a tiny cut on the coarse material, and a thin rivulet of sand escaped, falling to the floor with a quiet pattering sound. The light from the lantern she’d set on the nearby table flickered, glinting off the drops of sweat gathering on her bare arms. Feet moving quickly, Sable danced to the other side of the bag and struck again. And again. And again. With every strike, more sand fell to the floor, slow enough as to track the passing of time.
This late at night, she should be sleeping, but back in her quarters, all she had managed to do was toss and turn and think too much. And Sable didn’t want to think. What happened earlier in the day had rattled her–it had rattled everyone–and the ship felt somber and empty with Pip’s absence. But that wasn’t what messed with her head. Sable knew loss. Sable knew how tohandleloss. On a trip like this, loss was to be expected, and she’d hardened her heart against it long ago.
No, what messed with her were the sirens. Their song. What it did to all of them. There had been times when Sable’s body and life hadn’t belonged to herself, but her mind? Her mind hadalways been hers.Herthoughts,herfeelings,herurges. Hers. For that song to take control of her like that, to twist her into something she wasn’t, to make her–
She wanted to fucking–
A stabbing sound resounded in the empty cabin.
Sable breathed heavily as she stared at her machete, its blade buried in the sandbag’s belly.
“Fuck,” she said under her breath as she pulled the machete out. Now she’d have to get another.
The sand poured to the floor, the bag sagging under the loss.
Gripping the handle tightly, Sable looked down at her bare feet, trying to control her breathing. Her rage. Her shoulders heaved with it. A drop of sweat slid down her nose and spattered on the floor between her feet. Ever since she came back into herself, there had been a knot of anger and want pulsing deep inside her guts, andthiswas doing nothing to release it.
With a swipe of her arm, Sable cut cleanly through the cord holding the now empty sandbag in the air, and it fell with a dull thump.
“You don’t need to skulk in the shadows,” Sable said without turning her head. “I’ll put on a show for you if that’s what you want.”
Was this her, or still the song thrumming through her body?
Maybe she didn’t want to know. Not tonight. She wanted tostopthinking.
At the insolent scoff coming from somewhere at her back, the anger let up, but not the want. It pulsed with the burning heat from her work-out and her uneven breathing.
“Maybe skulking is part of the fun,” Riley said easily, and Sable turned to see her walk into the circle of light.
She sauntered to the table and lifted herself up to sit on its edge. Her hazel eyes lingered in places, like Sable’s bare arms and bare stomach and bare feet, not even trying to hide herstaring. Or the mischief in them. Sable didn’t like to wear many clothes when training, keeping just the bare minimum. Her trousers and chest bindings.
Riley wet her lips as her eyes came back up to meet Sable’s. She cocked her head to the side, smirking. “What did that poor sandbag do to you?”
Sable glanced at the empty cloth sagging atop the pile of its former innards. “It talked back,” she said dryly, pressing down on a smile when Riley scoffed again.
Calmly, Sable walked to the table and set her machete down on it, just a few inches from Riley, who sat a little straighter with her approach. Riley’s eyes strayed from hers again, somewhere on her neck where Sable could feel the cool of her own sweat and the pulse of her own heartbeat.
“So I should be careful then, huh?” Riley’s smile was mocking, but her voice was lower, hands gripping the edge of the table as if she was restraining herself from doing something else with them.
Sable studied her. Under the jabs and the mischief, she saw the dark circles under Riley’s eyes, the tense set of her shoulders. Was she also trying to escape her own thoughts?
Folding her arms, Sable said, “Yes. You should.” And if she flexed her muscles on purpose as she did, well, who could blame her when Riley was looking at her likethat?
“Or what?” Riley’s gaze leveled with hers, bold and challenging.
Sable took in a cooling breath.
