Page 54 of Tell No Tales
He left Tim to his clanging pots and pans and returned to the crate. Klaus was no longer on the mattress, instead nestled on one side of the sail bed, his knees pulled up and the blanket tucked around his feet and his knees.
"I thought you hated sail beds," Vadim whispered as he leaned to kiss Klaus's forehead. Mewskers took the opportunity to leap from his arms onto the sail between Klaus's knees and chest. There, he curled up in a little puffball.
"I was cold."
"It's a good thing I returned, then." He ducked under the sail to the other side and climbed in next to Klaus. "His name is Mewskers."
"Mewskers." Klaus chuffed a laugh. "I like it. I told you I was no good at naming cats."
Vadim rolled toward Klaus so he could stroke the little kitten burrowed into the blanket. "It was mostly your idea." Vadim stiffened as he realized he was now spooning Klaus.
Klaus wriggled back against him, and Vadim melted against his warmth. Klaus was so warm. Before his mind latched on to more thoughts of necromancy and regicide, he fell into dreamless sleep.
He woke to a much cooler sail bed. Klaus and the kitten were both gone.
He sighed. Just as well. He dressed in the hold and made his way on deck. Klaus was once again in the crow's nest, showing off Mewskers to Hannah. For his part, the kitten didn't seem to mind the height.
Vadim made his way past them to the navigation deck, where Efren was adjusting their course even further north. He looked a little rough around the edges, his hair a jumble of frizz beneath his hat.
"Rough night?"
"Hannah called a storm. You didn't feel it?"
"Ah, the benefits of a sail bed." Vadim loved making Efren scowl.
"You're lucky Hannah didn't hit the ship with lightning, then. You would have drowned while the rest of us put out the fires and fixed the hull."
"I would have helped," he insisted. "All you have to do is ask."
Efren's scowl deepened. No, his proud captain would never ask for help, and would indeed have let both Vadim and Klaus drown in the hold before rousing them to help on deck. Vadim's only vindication was in knowing Martiz would have drowned first, since he was in the lowest part of the ship, and the first to fill with water.
"I'm making progress with Hesse's journal," he said to change the subject to the reason he'd approached the captain at all. "I also learned a few things from Yvette about what happened to him."
"Coryn?" Efren rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Vadim, we all know it was Coryn."
"Yes, but how, and why?" Vadim patted the book still tucked in his coat pocket. "It's becoming clearer to me, at least. I thought Coryn was hurt and angry and willing to take it out on every healer she meets, but it's more than that."
"World domination," Efren said.
"World subjugation," Vadim corrected. "She wants to steal our magic for herself and then keep us in check with an army of undead."
Efren shook his head. "Makes no difference what she wants. She won't succeed. No one can carry that much power, and she'd need a spectral weaver to make the object work …"
"Niall."
"Fuck." Efren bristled. Vadim had his attention, at least. "You knew this when Beatrice gave him more power?"
Vadim shook his head. "I agreed with her. Coryn used her to find us once already."
"Well, now that she knows where Aquarion is—"
"That's why we need Hugo. Put her on the defensive and then take her conscripted military away from her. They're his, after all, and I think they'd be more likely to fight in his name if he frees them to make the choice."
"Gods, Vadim, that's a huge risk. He's not a child, and he's not stupid. They've already been conscripted to serve in his name. Why would he free them to run to Coryn?"
"Consent matters," Vadim said. "It matters to all living beings. Sometimes, I almost wonder if it matters to the water you manipulate and the animals you call, too."
He left Efren to mull over his words as he returned to the main deck. Klaus was talking to Niall while Mewskers was asleep at his feet, curled in a ray of sunlight. The kitten stirred as he approached, stretched, and then launched himself at Vadim's bootlaces until he'd reached his knee, hanging on for dear life with his sharp claws. Vadim unhooked them from the leather and lifted him to sit on his shoulder. He missed the kitten's tiny voice in his head, but they could communicate in other ways, like the rough tongue tickling the shell of his ear.
