Page 22 of Suffer No Fools
That fact terrified him. Why hadn't love been enough?
Love was supposed to mend all fences and heal all wounds. What a bunch of horseshit. Love only made those wounds deeper each time he stared at them too closely. He loved Stan, too, but only as far as he could trust him, which wasn't past the tip of his nose.
The sail was already billowing from the approaching winter squall from the south. If they weren't careful, they would get blown to the north of the Equis Islands again and lose a day of travel correcting their course. He glanced up at the crow's nest, where Hannah was now facing the port side with their hands raised. Anyone unfamiliar with storm callers would think they were calling the approaching storm, but Tovey had sailed with them long enough to know they were working to either split the storm around them or tamp it down so it wouldn't blow them off course.
Either way, the sleet bouncing off the deck boards increased from a few kernels a second to loud pounding in a matter of minutes. Tovey could deal with the cold mist that had been drizzling from the sky all day, but the ringing in his head from the loud clatter wore on him after a few minutes. He threw as much of his power into the sail as he dared and shared the rest with Stan.
Less than a quarter-hour later, the sleet had started to wear on him. It felt heavy and oppressive when it landed and stuck in his hooded cowl and along his shoulders, even finding its way into the pockets of his coat. It hadn't progressed to hail or snow, but there was so much of it.
Then, it faded to only a few tings and ticks here and there. Tovey looked up at the main mast above Hannah's head and saw them staring up, too, at a giant deck-shaped shadow in the sky.
"It was too loud," Stan muttered.
Tovey stared up at it again, wondering what material Stan had used to protect them from the sleet. It was only sleet, nothing they needed protection from, but Tovey felt lighter now that it wasn't hitting him. He brushed off his shoulders and emptied out his pockets before glancing back at Stan.
Stan's smile could still make Tovey's heart feel light. Then, he remembered Stan's betrayal, which always felt likesomeone ripping open his chest cavity and stomping on his organs until no healer in the empire could save him.
Love. That was what love felt like. Tovey hated it.
Still, he couldn't resist smiling back and mouthing, "Thank you," to the man who single-handedly had made the night far more hospitable than it would have been in the elements. Stan had anchored the roof overhead to the boat's movements. Even when she listed to her side, no sleet hit her, though Hannah nearly tumbled from the crow's nest once or twice.
"Rogue wave!" Hannah shouted.
The words didn't register in Tovey's brain. He was still trying to figure out why the captain's cabin door had banged open when the deck fell out from under him and he was flying toward the ocean, which had turned sideways.
He braced both arms out, throwing out a weave of air to shield him from the water's impact, but then he was being hauled backward by a very thick coil of rope around his waist.
He glanced down, and saw it wasn't anchored to the ship at all, but to Stan's strange earthen roof above them. Tovey hung in the air, suspended above the ship, which had rolled back to its usual position, with the deck parallel to the ocean.
He glanced up at Hannah, who was staring at him with an amused grin. "Having fun?"
"Hannah!" Efren called. "Focus on the waves!"
"Aye, Captain!" They turned to the port side, where the storm had originated, and Efren calmed the rogue waves coming from the starboard, like the last one.
Finally, Stan lowered him back to the deck, and the thick rope twisted up to reform the underside of the earthen roof overhead. Tovey didn't know how he could use both air and earth so effortlessly, since he was the only one still pushing wind into the sails.
Efren stepped up to the navigation deck, but he stayed at the railing. The ship repositioned so they pointed into the waves, and into the wind, and then Efren returned to his cabin.
Tovey recalibrated his air weaves to match their new heading, and then they were back on calm waters. Thankfully, Tovey wasn't a water weaver. He couldn't feel the roiling waves beyond Hannah's control. He felt the blustery air currents still threatening to knock Hannah from their perch, though. He followed Stan's example and enclosed the stormcaller in a cylinder of air around the mast. Their hair dropped from sticking out behind them to hang limply at their shoulders.
"About fucking time you did something to help!" Hannah shouted.
"Fuck you, too!"
"No, thanks!" Hannah waved both middle fingers at him anyway, and Stan laughed.
"That was kind of you," Stan rumbled behind him.
"Don't sound so fucking surprised."
Stan knew better than to say anything more, but that only left Tovey alone with his troubling thoughts again.
Finally, the seas calmed with the sunrise, and Efren, Niall, and Milton came on deck to take their spots. Hannah looked dead on their feet when Efren called them down from the crow's nest and sent them to bed.
"There could be ships," they muttered.
"Nola can take a shift," Efren scolded. "I won't have you falling to your death for lack of sleep."
