by Rosie Scott
I watched as he took a sip of his tea. “Has she spoken to you about them?”
“No. All I know are from the things I piece together.” He hesitated. “I'm a quiet man. People often overlook me or ignore me. Due to this, I've gained a skill for people-watching over the years because people will often let down their guards if they don't think you pay attention. You'd be surprised at the little clues and nuances you can pick up from how people live and interact.”
“What have you figured out about Neliah?” I asked curiously.
“She was likely hurt by someone she loved deeply,” Sage replied, frowning as he took another sip of tea. After swallowing, he continued, “And it wasn't just any little transgression. Someone did something that broke her trust entirely, and so she now questions even the intentions of those closest to her. You and me, in particular. She likes us. She trusts us. And that scares her most of all.”
“It was a man who hurt her,” I declared.
“How do you know?”
“She didn't trust Koby and me on sight when we first hired her in Silvi, and she started off finding my flirtations offensive. When we were last in Killick, she admitted to finding racism particularly distasteful, so I doubt her suspicions were due to my race.”
Sage nodded gently. “I think you're right. I've noticed that she is less standoffish around other women. Though her worst enemy appears to be herself.”
“I empathize,” I murmured.
Sage was quiet for a moment as he stared into his tea like a distraction. Finally, he asked, “May I comment on the argument you had with Koby last night? It is not my place, but as an outsider I might provide perspective.”
Though my stomach clenched with stress, I turned to face the ceiling and agreed, “Go ahead.”
“It's clear to me that you and Koby both struggle with how to deal and move on from what happened to you underground. Out of anyone in the world, Koby is the one who understands what you are going through the most. He is hurting, like you. He simply doesn't show it as often or as dramatically as you do, whether out of concern for you or because he'd rather keep it to himself. Your frustrations stem from your different ideas of how you would like to heal. While you want to move on and forget it, I don't believe Koby can. He is so disturbed by his past that the only way he feels he can move past it is to confront it. For him, that means creating and tending to this idea of starting a rebellion. Perhaps by freeing other slaves, he will finally feel at peace.”
“We have freed slaves,” I murmured in a weak protest. “We freed you and Hilly and all the rest. I have offered to free more as we continue fighting the pirates and ruining their part in the slave trade. I want that to be enough.”
Sage chose his next words carefully. “You have saved our lives, and we will forever be grateful. I hope that you also feel joy at these deeds and will continue to do so. But as happy as that makes Koby now, he doesn't seem the type to let things go. I don't know who Azazel is, but it sounded to me like you two left him behind in your desperation for escape. This is why he haunts you both. Rather than suppress this, Koby will likely harp on it until he feels the situation is resolved. It cannot be resolved until Azazel is free.”
My eyes burned as an onslaught of repressed emotion bubbled over and hit me at once. I squinted them shut, fighting off the images of Azazel's face. For some reason, whenever I thought of him I imagined his hurt expression after one of my outbursts. I was a broken mess of a man due to the cruelty of others, yet I'd lashed out and delivered that same cruelty to someone who never deserved it.
I'm sorry, I thought, desperately wishing Azazel could hear it. I covered my eyes with my hands, ashamed by the sobs that broke through my usual stoic demeanor.
Sage said nothing and sipped his tea. The poor man had seen me break down multiple times; it felt safe to let my guard down around him because he never mocked me for it. Sometimes showing emotion made other Alderi uncomfortable, and I couldn't trust that the others wouldn't use it as a reason to tease me. Yet, I trusted that whatever I said or did in front of Sage behind closed doors would stay between us.
Only when I started calming did Sage speak. “I assume that apology was not for me,” he began, making me realize I'd apologized to Azazel out loud, “but to the man you left behind. No one you have ever met has been in your shoes. None of us know how we would act or react in the situations you've lived through. You are not irredeemable, no matter how guilty you may feel. It seems to me that fighting against the pirates and for the people you care for is your way of making up for your past mistakes. This is valid, Calder. You are not selfish because your goals don't align with Koby's. Koby doesn't truly believe that, either. He just used the word in anger. I understand you're avoiding him by hiding in here, but I don't think that's necessary. You mean the world to him and he will forever be your greatest supporter, even when you have disagreements.”
I laughed softly as I wiped impatiently at my eyes. “Perhaps, but you're not getting rid of me that easily. I won't let Koby see me like this.”
“Well, don't I feel special?” Sage said light-heartedly. “You ignored my question earlier, but I do really think you should consider drinking some tea. I can brew some for you that will help calm your system.”
“Ferris tea?” I asked facetiously, sitting up.
“I said it would calm your system, not make you loopy,” Sage retorted lightly with a smile. “Shall I make you some?”
“Sure, thank you,” I agreed.
Sage grunted as he stood from his bedroll. “I have to get the hot water from the fire,” he informed me, walking over to the door. Turning back to me, he winked and promised, “You can stay hidden in here and I will not say a word.”
As always, talking with Sage was calming all on its own. I stayed in the lodge with him for a little while, drinking the tea he made me and talking with him about everything and nothing at all. Only when he assured me that my face no longer showed evidence of my breakdown did I agree to leave and face the day.
I felt awkward and alone as I walked out into the late morning sunlight. I didn't know how Jayce, Koby, or Neliah would react to seeing me, and knowing that many mercenaries had witnessed my outburst forced me to dwell in embarrassment. I tugged my hood over my bald head to hide in its shadow and reached in my pocket for a cigarette, just to find it empty. Panic rushed into my chest; Koby and I left our ferris stash with our supplies, which were in the shack we planned on sharing with some of our crew. The same building I currently avoided. I stared at it from my distance, deliberating over risking awkward conversations just to get the relief only drugs could provide. The little wooden shack shone in the direct sunlight, like the gods pointed helpfully at my saving grace.
Then my eyes wandered to nearby movement. Koby was knee-deep in swamp water close to the lodge, helping Cyrene set up more recently assembled barricades. He sweated profusely from his efforts, his shirt and hood two shades darker than normal with dampness. He stood up straight to wipe the perspiration from his brow when it threatened to overwhelm his eyes, but his gaze caught on me. He studied my expression and demeanor, his signature concern taking precedence.
I scowled, turned, and stalked away. Perhaps I could trade for ferris. Inwardly, I understood I was still going to ridiculous lengths to avoid the inevitable, but my immaturity felt justified.
“Calder.”
I stopped. I was so distracted with avoiding Koby that I nearly collided with Neliah. Mud caked over her worn boots and slacks, indicating she had also been helping out around the island where she could. The actions and words between us the night before swam in her gaze, but she said nothing of it. Keeping her tone warm, she asked, “How are you feeling?”
I almost lied to save face, but what would have been the point? “I'm a mess. I need ferris.”
Neliah frowned and peered toward the same building I avoided. “We should have—”
“Koby's over there,” I blurted like an excuse.
She smiled s
oftly like she found my antics endearing. “He is, but he won't bite.” When I didn't respond to her humor with the same, she lowered her tone and continued, “He's worried sick about you. Kept interrupting my work this morning to ask about what happened last night—”
“What happened between you and me last night is none of his business.”
Neliah sobered. “That's...not what I meant. He wanted to know if you were safe.”
I gritted my teeth. “He is so nosy.”
“He's your best friend.”
“He's a meddling asshole.”
“You picked him.” Neliah's expression lightened with humor.
“I did not,” I retorted. “You don't know the story of how we became friends. He wouldn't leave me alone.”
“Then that was your sign, wasn't it?”
Neliah's persistent humor finally broke through to me, and I sighed. “I'll go talk to him,” I promised.
“Thank the gods,” she replied. “Because you two bicker like an old married couple and it's time you learned how to solve things yourselves.” Though her tone was still light, I sensed honest advice in her words.
“Before I go...” I trailed off, scanning over her face. I didn't understand how she could so easily recover and move on from the prior night's events. Perhaps using humor was her way of ignoring it or dwelling in denial. After a sharp inhale, I asked, “How are you?”
Neliah happy expression faded once more. It wasn't due to discomfort, however; she appeared pleasantly surprised that I cared enough to ask rather than take the easy route and ignore uncomfortable subjects.
“I am well,” she finally answered. “Thank you for asking.”
I didn't budge. “Don't lie to me.”
Neliah averted her gaze to my lips before looking away. “I fear you learning to resent me,” she confided, her tone low and introspective. “I want you to know that I take no pleasure in the conflicting ways I've acted toward you. If I have confused you, it is only because I am confused, myself.” She mustered up the courage to look me in the eyes again. “I'm sorry if I've caused you any distress.”
After spending countless hours trying to figure her out, that she acknowledged how difficult and confusing she could be meant so much to me. “I still struggle to understand you,” I admitted low, for her ears only. “But I will continue to try.”
Neliah searched my eyes and relaxed when she found earnestness. “For that, I am grateful.” Glancing in Koby's direction, she said as a means of parting, “May your conversation go well.”
I stared after her for a moment, feeling as if the rapport between us had deepened to unprecedented levels. I had approached Neliah last night in a rush of emotion with a desperate need to release it, and I'd badly wanted sex with her. Yet, after coming deliciously close to fulfilling my fantasies just for her to reject me once again, I still came away from it feeling satisfied from an emotional intimacy I hadn't expected. Neliah hadn't given me sex, but because she opened up to me so willingly in other respects, I felt important and special to her. That was gratifying all on its own.
I set my jaw and finally made my way to the lodge, deliberately ignoring Koby's stare as I went inside to fetch ferris. Near our stash was a stack of recently rolled cigarettes. I didn't know who rolled them, but I grabbed a handful and shoved them in my pocket, promising myself I'd roll some later myself to make it up to whoever put in the work.
After exiting, I stood just outside the closed door and lit the cigarette, breathing in deeply until my mind calmed its bickering with the onset of a high. Only then did I trot down the steps and make my way to the water's edge where Koby and Cyrene worked.
“Good morning,” Koby greeted after an awkward hesitation, like he tried to judge my mood with simple words rather than outright say the things that had haunted him overnight.
Keeping the cigarette between my lips, I responded in a mumble, “What're you doing?”
Cyrene looked up at Koby from where she bent over to work. After they exchanged a glance, Koby replied, “Setting up defenses.”
“Those won't keep beasts from reaching us,” I stated with just an edge of pessimism.
“No, but it'll slow them down,” Koby replied. “A lot of the barricades are underwater. It'll block beasts from using the swamps as a means of hidden attack. Like that snake-kin you fought with the last time we were here, Cal.”
“The snake-kin,” I repeated, my words containing an extra bite. When Koby frowned in confusion, I added, “The one who wanted to kill you.”
“...Yeah,” Koby agreed.
“The one I risked my life to kill so it wouldn't eat you,” I went on pointedly. “So then it nearly ate me.”
Koby and Cyrene exchanged another glance. Koby exhaled shortly and said, “That's the one, Cal.”
“Just checking.”
“Do you want me to thank you?” Koby asked.
“No. I'm just confused, is all.” I removed the cigarette and blew a steam of smoke toward him. “Is that something you actually appreciated or would you rather me strive to abide by the 'selfish' title you've bestowed on me?”
Cyrene raised her eyebrows, tried and failed to hide her smile at our petty disagreement, and doubled the focus into her work. Koby walked toward me and out of the swamps. As he passed me, he said, “Come on. If we're going to do this, let's not embarrass ourselves.”
I followed Koby past the collection of lodges and to the northern water's edge just at the ascending hillside. While fishers departed with their boats from the southern coast of the island's pinched center, we were relatively alone here. I smoked while we watched the gentle rolling waves between the wildlands and Eteri and waited for him to speak first.
“Things got heated, Cal,” Koby finally began, his eyes ahead and hands in his pockets. “I think we both said some nasty things we regret. For my part in that, I'm sorry.”
Just hearing him say these things in a calming, resolved manner made me relax to the point my shoulders slumped out of their tense curl. I swallowed hard. “I'm sorry, too. But more than that, I'm hurt.”
“Me, too.”
“What did I say that bothered you?”
“You suggested I enjoyed slavery, Cal.”
I grimaced. “I don't understand your obsession with the underground, and it angers me.”
Koby hesitated. “Have you ever considered I deal with things differently than you do?”
“Yes,” I answered honestly. Sage's observations of us from earlier in the morning came to mind.
“I want you to understand something,” Koby said openly. “The idea of going back to the underground brings me no joy. It terrifies me. It is my greatest fear. Before that, do you know what my greatest fear was? When we were slaves?”
“No.”
“Attempting escape. Few slaves succeeded. Those who did succeed, well, we never heard from them again. For all we knew, the surface ate them, chewed them up, and spit them out. But we didn't know for sure. The only way to know was to face those fears and try it. We did, and here we are.” He spread his arms. “Free.”
“What good will come out of returning?”
“The liberation of the underground, Cal,” he replied like it was obvious.
“We would fail. Miserably. We'd both be too terrified out of our minds to make any progress. Surface-dwellers would be impaired and out of their element. We can barely lead a crew with any skill. There is no way in hell we could lead a rebellion.”
“Then why is that precisely what you suggested we do against Cale and Vruyk?” he countered.
I hesitated in realization that he'd called out my inconsistencies. “Because we have a chance at it here.”
“And I think we have a chance at it underground,” Koby said confidently.
“We would fail,” I repeated.
“What if we won?” Koby retorted optimistically. “For once in your life, Cal, just consider success.”
For a moment, I imagined it. I imagined liberating the undergr
ound and freeing my brothers. Starting a new era for the Alderi. It sounded too good to be true. Because it likely was. I couldn't think about success without considering the work it would take. The destination sounded wonderful. The journey was terrifying.
“I want you to understand something,” I said, mimicking his earlier words to me. “You sounded resentful of me last night because I don't acknowledge this goal of yours. I ignore the idea out of self-preservation. I don't ignore that this is something you want. I respect and admire your ambition. I understand why it appeals to you. I'm just not ready, Koby. I can't even think about the underground without losing it. I can't imagine even considering going back. Just talking about it with you, now, is suffocating me. I don't know if I'll ever get over this. How does one plan their mental health? You can't.”
Koby turned his head, noting the sudden perspiration that dotted my face from an oncoming panic attack. “Then stop thinking about it, Cal.”
“But this is something that continues to bother you. I need to figure out a way through this because I don't want you to resent me. Just knowing that you've gone to other people about it scares me to hell because it makes me think I'll wake up one day and you won't be there. You'll just go and do it on your own and leave me behind because you think I don't care.”
Embarrassed by my sentimental ramble, I took a long distracted drag. After blowing out a shaky stream of smoke, I took another.
“Cal. Listen to me.” Koby's voice was calm, peaceful, and full of understanding. I hadn't yet heard his response, but already he soothed me. I kicked myself for avoiding him that morning for as long as I had as he went on. “You don't understand how much all of that means to me. You have ignored my idea so completely and for so long that it felt like you didn't respect it. Just hearing you say you're open to it makes me feel a lot better. You don't have to be ready now.”
“But I may not be ready for a very long time, and I have no control over that. If you get impatient and—”
