Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 153795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 769(@200wpm)___ 615(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 769(@200wpm)___ 615(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Chapter 46
Conred was right. Beka is an amazing baker, and an equally great chef, too.
We sit at the tables with the ship crew, eating the remaining fish along with roasted vegetables as the Emellie glides through the waters. Since the water dragon, nothing has come up. Thankfully.
Night has fallen, and we’re passing through The Void. Captain Solyen has asked us to remain inside and to keep quiet.
I can’t imagine what else is out there. What if zerenias start singing? Or giant crabs appear? Or worse, a male water dragon this time?
I want to shake the thoughts off, but it’s hard to do considering how loud the wind is howling. I hear faint creaks and groans, but I’m not sure if the sounds are coming from the ship or the creatures outside of it.
After dinner, Rynthea and I take the remaining bunks, while Algar and Thane are given thick cots with fresh quilts to set up beside our beds.
“You should all get some sleep,” Conred whispers when he meets at our beds. “Captain Solyen says we’re only a few hours out from your stopping point. Remember to keep your voices low for now.”
“We will, Conred,” I whisper. “Sleep well.”
“You too, Zaira.” He walks off and climbs into his bed.
The four ship crew members take the top bunks. The crew is nearly asleep by this point, bellies full and minds fuzzy from ale.
“You know what?” Algar whispers from the floor. I look over the edge of the mattress at him. He’s lying on his back with his hands tucked behind his head.
“What?” I whisper back.
“I should’ve become a sea biologist, lived out my father’s dream.” His voice drops to a low murmur. “I used to hate it because he talked about it nonstop and spent so much time at sea away from us, but now I understand why. The creatures are exhilarating.”
“Instead, you became a conman with charmer tricks.” Rynthea laughs quietly. “I bet your father is so proud.”
“He’s dead, actually.” Algar’s eyes fall to Zephra, who is asleep on his chest, purring as she cuddles with her tail. “He and my mother died in a fire. I was there when it happened.”
I sit up as Rynthea does, my face falling with concern. Even Thane gives Algar a curious glance before staring at the ceiling once again.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Algar,” I whisper.
“It was years ago,” he murmurs, brushing it off. “But today reminded me a lot of him.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Rynthea says in a soft voice.
“It’s all right, Ryn. Don’t stress it.” His voice, though riddled with humor, is still sad.
Someone on the other side of the room says, “Shh!”
There’s a long silence, filled only by the light snoring of the crew, the soft tinkling of the bells overhead, and the odd groans and creaks of the ship.
Rynthea slides to the end of the bed, giving the top of Algar’s head a light ruffle. “No wonder you’re such a jester. You joke to bury your feelings.”
Algar chuckles under his breath. “No, I’ve been funny all my life, actually. If I don’t laugh through the bullshit, I’ll lose my spark, you know?”
“I understand exactly how you feel when it comes to your parents,” I say, voice barely a whisper. “I lost my parents during the Ruvain attacks.”
“And you know about my parents,” Rynthea adds, chin dropping an inch.
Thane sighs. “So we’ve all had shitty childhoods, then?”
“Seems so. But that’s life in Thelanor, isn’t it?” Algar says.
We huddle closer together, so our voices blend in with the quiet snores of the crew. “There is no safety here,” Algar continues. “No security. So we do what we must to survive. I started stealing and tricking people to keep me fed. Eventually, I started doing it in Junsho and Ruvain.”
“And landed your ass in jail,” Thane butts in.
Rynthea and I snicker quietly.
“I tried to make an honest living, but that shit was hard.” Algar wipes the wrinkles from his forehead. “An honest living doesn’t provide as well as an immoral one.”
We digest that, sitting in silence for a second.
“Well,” Thane says, sighing. “Nothing can be worse than your own father selling you off for a pouch of coins.”
Rynthea and Algar stare at Thane, shocked by his sudden confession. He blinks at the tinkling bells on the ceiling with his jaw flexing.
“Is that what happened to you?” Algar whispers, sitting up on his elbows. “Is that why I never saw you again until all those years later?”
Thane nods. Hearing it again out loud is no less painful than when he told me the first time.
“He sold you to The Divine?” Algar prods.
“He sold me to some tradesmen who then sold me for twice as much to The Divine.” Thane scratches the area of his shirt where his tattoo is. The tattoo that is now branded in exile.