Page 66 of The Cerulean Sister
My strands snag as I undo the clasp. "Keep it safe." I push it into his hand, folding his fingertips over the top.
His shoulders fall in an exhale, and my only comfort is knowing he will put it back in place when we are together again.
"I will do everything I can, this I pledge to you." He closes his fist tighter around the pin. "You have my heart, Ferren."
"I love you, 99.”
"I love you too,"he says into our tether, savoring its strength that will soon dwindle out.
Turning away from him to walk up the ship's ramp is like pushing myself to go deeper underwater, my body begging me to turn back, to surface and take a breath. I force myself to focus on Calliape's and August’s footsteps right behind me, supporting each step I take.
Chapter
Eighteen
The ship is ghostly without 99. My senses play cruel tricks on me, sending distorted visions of him in the corners of my eyes, mistaking metal panels on the wall for his armor in my peripherals. A phantom cloud of his smell follows me but never fully lets me inhale his scent.
Seeing his empty chair as we strapped in for takeoff felt like a stab in my side. I asked August if I could sit in it, trying desperately to feel closer to him, but he said the straps were too high for me. Sitting in it now is a poor substitute for sitting on 99's lap with his strong arms caging me in.
The straps are indeed much higher on the wall, and it’s also the only seat positioned for the occupant's legs to direct out into the middle of the cockpit. I never put much thought into it until now, but maybe August customized this area for 99, as all the other seats would not allow for his bulky frame and armor.
My heart does a little twist when I think of how effortlessly considerate both of them can be, how their care gets written into our existence in small things, like a tilted outward chair for a taller friend.
I stare down at the pages of my book and look straight through it, like the words are written on translucent paper.It's hard to think of anything else other than 99's strongly woven tether, fizzling out the moment the ship exited Viathan’s atmosphere, sending a pinch in my chest when it finally severed.
I assumed when we disconnected, a sort of wall would cast itself across that space, but instead I can see a faint frame of the entrance. If I push too hard, my hand seems to fall through it like a window left open at night, colder and darker on the other side.
"Ferren!" August’s voice cracks over the speaker in the cockpit. "Come to the mess hall, eat with us."
I'd rather bring the food up here. Sitting with them for dinner only highlights another place 99 is missing from.
"I mean it," August says like he is about to come get me himself, which he had to do this morning.
I leave my book on 99's chair and follow the smell of food into the mess hall, where Calliape and August sit around the large metal table.
"Oh, you brought some of the Viathan books?" I ask, noticing the two stacked on the dining table as I enter.
"I slept most of the way last time from Cosima to Viathan. I wanted something to read," she replies shyly, like I have caught her.
I never officially let the scholars know I was taking books out of the library for Calliape to read. If anything, picturing the stuffy archivist realizing they are missing while we are away makes me smile.
"Is that what you call reading? Whispering the words over and over? Creeped me out so bad, I had to hide in the cargo hull earlier."
"Oh no, August, you're all alone on a ship with a priestess and a Mother-blessed woman. What could possibly happen?" Calliape teases.
August laughs a little, but the coloring in his face blanches like it always does when anything close to speaking of divinity comes up. He shifts in his seat and scowls at her.
"Are you . . . memorizing something?" I try to dig further on the strange comment from before and remove my designated bowl out of a translucent box that keeps the contents warm at the food stations.
"Well, there are some useful spells and rituals that I found."
None of the books she requested had spells in them; I would have noticed. I stare at her, wide-eyed. "Spells?"
"Yes." She touches the older of the two books, the one I notice she has face down on the table. "There were some leftover texts in the Viathan temple. Some are from the priestesses of old. I thought perhaps they would be useful."
"Oh . . . well, be careful. Some of the spells from that time were used to try and wake First Mother during the war." I shake my head, and now August isn't the only one feeling uneasy. "Mary always said they went terribly wrong. Why would you need spells? You're so gifted already."
I get a small pang in my chest that Calliape is hiding something from me but remind myself she is only trying to help anyway she can. Spells are rarely, if ever, used in the Estate, thought to be unrefined and unnecessary, replaced by rituals and long-winded prayer.
