Solatium (Emanations, an urban fantasy series Book 2) (44 page)

I gritted my teeth. “I can help.”

He acknowledged the offer with a nod. “It’s not just the power involved. It’s the craft.”

“But you’re really good at barriers.”

He shrugged. “There’s a reason most ships don’t have ones like that.”

“Wow. Rykthas must be pissed too.”

“Yup.”

“What do the traders want?”

“Blood for blood.”

I frowned. “Did you remind them we saved their asses back in the jungle?”

He shrugged again.

I guess that wasn’t the kind of thing Williams would bother with. He’d just wait for them to make a move and then kill them.

Jesus, what a mess
.

Why had he thrown Serhan out the window? Rykthas probably had a brig.

I wondered if I felt bad about that. I wasn’t raised in a society where the death penalty was imposed for attempted rape, after all.

I thought about it.

Nope. I was glad he was dead.

I guess there’s a reason we leave that stuff up to judges and juries, not the victims.

“So what are we going to do?”

“You’re going to stay with me at all times.”

Predictable.

“I mean, what are we going to do about the specific problems you mentioned?”

“Already made a new hull barrier. It’s rudimentary, but I’ll keep working on it.”

“Maybe Rykthas can get a fancy one in Demesnes.”

“Sure.”

“I bet it’ll cost an arm and a leg.”

“Yup.”

“Guess she’ll have to bill Cordus.”

Williams’s mouth quirked up on the left.

What do you know? The man really could smile.

I turned back to the water. One of those dolphin-things was there, flashing silver as it darted through the waves. Maybe it was one of the ones that ate Serhan.

I decided I’d count how many of them I could see before sundown.

Williams settled back against the rail and ignored me.

For the first few days after the assault, I thought I’d put it behind me quickly. Yeah, it was awful, but I had a lot of things to feel “good” about. First and foremost, I’d survived. A close second: Serhan hadn’t gotten what he wanted. And he’d been punished. Big time. And I was proud of the way I’d fought him.

And I didn’t blame myself.

I knew some women did. They listened to people who said they’d been asking for it by wearing a short skirt or walking home after dark or whatever. I wasn’t going to fall into that trap. Yeah, I could’ve had my gun on my person while working out, but Serhan could’ve
not tried to rape me
, and that would’ve nipped the problem in the bud a lot more effectively.

So. Plenty of good things.

But after the first few days, my mental state started to slide. Maybe the euphoria of survival was wearing off, or maybe I’d just been numb, at first. I don’t know.

I decided to carry the .38 after all.

The third night, I had a nightmare about the assault.

I’d thought the weird symbolic dreams about Cordus’s mind-working were nightmares.

They weren’t. Not compared to this. It was a sensory dream — just the feeling of weight, something pressing down on me, so I couldn’t move. It went on and on and on.

I woke up screaming.

Williams talked me down, calm and steady, from across the room.

He’d been sleeping on the floor every night. I’d protested at first, but I didn’t after that because the dreams kept coming. After a week, I dreaded them so much I had trouble going to sleep at all.

The more sleep I missed, the jumpier I got. The second time I pulled my gun on a crewman who’d committed the sin of coming around a corner a little too quickly, Williams told me to unload it and carry the bullets in my pocket.

I watched the terrified crewman scuttle away.

“If the bullets are in my pocket, I won’t be able to shoot anyone.”

Williams’s expression said,
Exactly
.

He looked tired. I wasn’t surprised. My nightmares woke him up every night. Plus, he’d been powering the hull barrier and probably keeping barriers around the two of us as well. Those traders were always lurking around, no doubt hoping to take a pot-shot at one of us.

“You can draw on me for the hull barrier. Take a little break.”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

That’s what he’d said the last three times I offered. Clearly, he didn’t want to do it.

I studied him. “It’s not the same, you know. I’m giving you permission.”

He nodded. “Maybe tomorrow.”

I can’t tell you how annoying it was to psych myself up to make the offer, only to have it turned down. I dreaded letting him draw on me. Absolutely dreaded it. Just mentioning it made me break out in a cold sweat.

“This doesn’t seem like the best time to grow a conscience,” I said.

He glowered at me. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“Oh for the love of Pete!”

I turned and stalked off, only to stop after a few steps because I couldn’t remember where I’d been going before the crewman startled me.

“Galley,” Williams said.

Right. I needed a new melon.

“Thanks.” I hoped he heard the apology in that word.

I headed to the galley. Ida was probably down there. She’d give me a melon.

Williams followed along silently behind.

Day by day, the ship pressed north, propelled by the artificial currents Rykthas and her water-workers created. The three of them took eight-hour shifts around the clock. We made fairly good time, though not as good as the natural currents had provided.

I spent my days trying to regain some sense of normality while being followed around by an increasingly drawn-looking Williams, stalked by the traders, and generally avoided by everyone else.

Terry had found me on deck the day of the assault. He’d looked me over and said, “I’m glad you’re okay, and I’m glad that fucker’s dead.” Then he’d gone on his way and treated me as usual.

I appreciated that. Being treated like normal helped me feel normal.

Unfortunately, he was the only one.

Ida did her best to act normal, but I could tell she was watching me with her healer hat on — probably waiting to see if I was going to lose it.

Mizzy avoided me for days, then finally approached me awkwardly, saying how sorry she was and asking how I was doing.

I hated that question.

She must’ve seen it on my face because she made her excuses and beat a hasty retreat. She’d made a few overtures since, but I just couldn’t deal with the sympathy. The constant
Oh my god, are you okay???
I could see in her eyes was like nails on a chalkboard.

Kevin avoided me. I got the strange sense that my presence embarrassed him.

The other passengers didn’t seem to know what to say to me or even if it was okay to look at me. They tried to pretend I wasn’t there.

Except, of course, for the traders. There always seemed to be one of them around, watching and waiting.

The one who worried me most was a non-descript blond man. Williams said he was Serhan’s brother-in-law. Unlike the group’s official leader, he didn’t bother bending Rykthas’s ear with demands for justice. He just watched and waited.

Other than shadowing me constantly, Williams paid them little mind.

I could see why — if they’d had any offensive gifts to speak of, the turkey-dinos wouldn’t have gotten the upper hand on them nearly so easily.

But I was still worried.

Unfortunately, I was right.

The attack came on a sunny afternoon more than two weeks after the assault. We’d almost completed our run north. Another day and we’d be turning west, out into the world ocean. From there it would be just four days to the ligature.

I was standing at my accustomed place by the rail, amidships on the port side, watching for sea creatures, which were now few and far between. Williams was parked beside me.

Someone cleared their throat behind me, and I turned.

It was Mizzy.

“Hey,” she said softly. “I thought you might want this. To read. You know — at night.”

She was holding a thick notebook.

“What is it?”

“It’s my book of tales. When I hear a story I like, I jot it down in here. I can’t say the writing’s great, but you might find it entertaining.”

She was gripping the book pretty hard.

“Are you sure you want to loan it to me? It must be important to you.”

She nodded quickly. “I know you’ll take good care of it.”

“Okay,” I said, taking it from her. “Thanks. That’s really —”

We both jumped as Williams collapsed in a heap.

Mizzy and I knelt down and dragged him up into a sitting position against the ship’s rail. He was conscious but looked awful — pale and sweaty and shaking.

Mizzy had her hand on his bare skin. “He’s been poisoned.”

I saw motion and jerked my head up. The blond trader was standing a few feet from us, pointing a gun at Williams’s head. He pulled the trigger. The shot ricocheted into the ship’s mast.

Damned if Williams wasn’t still holding a barrier.

I grabbed his hand, willing him to draw on me, but instead he slumped over, knocking me down.

The blond man smiled. Time seemed to slow. In my peripheral vision, I could see crewmen charging the man, but they weren’t going to get there in time. His gun was already swinging down toward us.

Then Mizzy screamed, “
Run!
”

It wasn’t directed at me, but I still caught the edge of the absolute terror she was projecting.

The blond man dropped his gun and bolted. He ran right into the two crewmen who were rushing him, and they went down in a tangle of limbs. The trader managed to roll free. He scrambled to his feet and raced down the deck. When he got to the ship’s rail, he ran right into it and toppled over into the water far below.

I crawled out from under Williams.

“Mizzy. Heal him.”

She looked at me, terrified.

“My working will break. I’ll die.”

“You can draw on me. Please. Heal him.”

She reached for me, but I pulled back. “After he’s okay. I swear.”

She swallowed, searching my face, then nodded. She lay down next to him and put her hand on his. For a second, nothing seemed to happen. Then, abruptly, she turned into an ancient woman. She made a horrible, strangled sound, but her hand stayed on Williams’s until he stirred, rolled away from her, and vomited.

I crouched over Mizzy, looking down into her rheumy eyes. They were clouded. I realized she couldn’t see me.

I touched her cheek. “Take what you need.”

Williams batted my hand away.

He propped himself up on one shaking arm and reached for me with the other.

“Don’t,” he said.

“She just saved your life, twice over. Mine too.”

He looked at me silently for a long moment.

Then he looked at Mizzy. “Swear fealty to her.”

“Wait,” I said. “What —”

“I so swear,” Mizzy whispered.

Damn it
. I was sure he’d just done something I really wouldn’t like.

“Okay, honey, okay,” I said to Mizzy. “Take what you need.” I shot Williams a vengeful look. “Make it really good.”

He swore and reached for me.

“Uh-uh-uh,” Terry said from behind me. I craned my neck around. He was standing there, pointing a gun at Williams. “I think you’re in a bad way, big fella. Better take it easy and let the ladies do their thing.”