Page 24 of Reign of Light
There’s a pang in my chest, because I did have hope. But now, it’s lost, and I don’t know how we’ll get through the rest of time without it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Fin’s whoops and cries echo through the ship as he tears up and down the steps, his excitement evident after we told him he was going to see Roley today. It never became my official ship duty to occupy him, because everything happened shortly after Taril took over scrubbing the deck, but I know Weston is relieved that Fin can finally leave the ship and work off some energy. Being confined for so long with so little to do is hard on someone as young as he is, and if that is a silver lining we can find in this situation, I’ll take it.
Despite the truce with the Voyagers yesterday, no one in the crew has ventured beyond the safety of the ship. It’s as if everyone is still unsure if we can take Mara at her word, and no one wants to be the first to try. While I trusted her at one point, especially after saving my life, something in the back of my mind still tells me to be wary. The look in her eyes as she was trying to run me through with her sword is not an easy one to forget.
Sig sits on the railing of the quarterdeck, her feet dangling over the wooden boards beneath her, while Jorn balances along the beam at her side. Weston stands before her, arms crossed over his chest, with his stern look firmly in place. He glances over his shoulder as I approach, and the tension in his shoulders visibly relaxes slightly once I step beside him.
“What’s on your mind, Cap?” Jorn says as he spins on one boot to walk in the other direction. “Not doing enough to keep your thoughts occupied?”
Jorn’s mischievous grin is the perfect rival for Weston’s scowl and glare, but it doesn’t faze Jorn at all. He just shoots me a wink when Weston growls back.
“I’m trying to figure out how that is any of your concern, Jorn.”
He snickers, and my tongue finds my cheek as I try to hide my smile. “Well, we are the ones who have to deal with you. It’s in our best interest to make sure you’re satisfied.”
Sig rolls her eyes and smacks Jorn on the leg, instigating one of Jorn’s full-belly laughs. “Ignore him, Cap. What’s wrong?”
Weston shifts on his feet, still glaring at Jorn when he answers. “The Voyagers,” he grunts, and a look of confusion crosses Sig’s face.
“I thought after yesterday we would not have a problem. Not a significant one, at least,” she says.
“Cap doesn’t trust anyone, Sig,” Jorn says as he hops down onto the deck with a thud. “I’m not surprised this isn’t any different. What specifically, though? Enlighten us, Cap.”
“We’ve kept the location of the healing waters secret for this long, but with Dane gone, I wonder if the rest of them can be trusted,” Weston says.
“You think we should tell them?” Sig asks.
Weston lets out a deep sigh and rubs a hand over his face. “I don’t know. If we were on the other side, we would want to know. But there are too many unknowns with Dane. Can we trust he’s actuallygone? He’s still the Guardian. What if there is a way he can travel without the dust?”
“I don’t think he can. On my first day here, he used it to leave the island,” I say. “Also, when he was in Blackwood, it didn’t seem like he was just coming and going. I think he was staying without using the dust.”
Weston’s head snaps toward me. “He was there?”
I had told no one that Dane and I had met prior to calling the Guardian. Mara had to know, because when we met on my first day searching, she mentioned he had disappeared for weeks, then came back with me. At the time, I thought nothing of it. I didn’t know who he was, or the role he played in finding anyone seeking the healing waters.
Now I know why. He sought me out.
“For a few weeks, yeah. I had met him before I called him.”
Weston’s gaze hardens, and the muscles in his jaw clench as I’m sure he’s figuring out what I already know: that I was Dane’s target from the beginning.
Sig chimes in. “So we know he has to use it, but we don’t know if it is actually all gone. But we can’t confirm whether or not he was using the dust?” Sig asks, turning her attention to me.
“You think he still has dust?” I ask.
“He might. He might not,” Weston says. “But can we trust that if he returns, Mara or anyone else won’t run back to him? Just because Mara might be telling the truth that she believes, doesn’t mean Dane isn’t still pulling strings.”
If Dane still has dust and only left the pouch here to deceive us and make us think he could never come back, that would completely change who or what I would trust, and it seems Weston feels the same.
“So we don’t tell them,” Sig says, “because wedoknow that we can’t trust them. The island never showed them where the waters are, and that has been our best way of knowing someone could be trusted. It hasn’t been wrong yet.”
Weston nods. “Then we keep it to ourselves until the island tells us.”
“We’ll trust the island, just like it tells us to,” I say.
“And if we’re wrong,” Weston mutters, “we handle it then.”
