by Kody Boye
“I thought dragons were extinct?” the older man asked.
“Supposedly extinct,” Odin offered.
“Anyway, I guess that doesn’t really matter,” Nova sighed. “I can understand why that would bother you, Odin, but it’s not like Miko’s going to tell people he can talk to a dragon.”
“It’s not that, Nova.”
“What is it then?”
“He… uh… said that he…”
“It’s okay. Take your time.”
“He said that something bad was going to happen, and that he felt he had to protect me from it.”
Nova said nothing. He looked down at the water, almost as if something had caught his attention. Odin entertained the fantasy of that same water dragon appearing from beneath the silky white soap water to greet them with its presence. That idea quickly passed, as Nova sighed and brought Odin’s attention back to his face. “I don’t know what to tell you, Odin. On one hand, I’m kinda worried, because if Miko feels like something is wrong, that can’t be good. On the other hand, though, I don’t think you have anything to worry about, because it’s not like you can control what’s coming your way.”
“Maybe this is pointless,” Odin mumbled.
“What?”
“I said maybe this is pointless.”
“Yeah, but what’s pointless?”
“Being on this adventure, training to become a knight. This.” He flushed his hand at the air around them. “I don’t get the point if something bad’s going to happen to me.”
“Don’t say that,” Nova said, setting a hand on Odin’s arm. “Imagine what you’re going to be doing in a few years, Odin. You’re going to be a knight, riding around the country, helping those who need help and defending those who can’t defend themselves. What could be better than that?”
“If something’s going to happen to me, Nova, I won’t be able to help anyone.”
“Bullshit you can’t!”
Odin swallowed a lump in his throat. He looked into his friend’s eyes, unsure what to say. “What?” he asked.
“You can do anything you want. Don’t hold yourself back just because someone’s saying they think something bad’s going to happen to you.”
“But Miko—”
“Miko nothing, Odin. I don’t care if he’s half-Elf, half-Draethel, half whatever the fuck you can think of—he’s still here, he’s still physical. Just because he’s lived a lot longer than we have doesn’t mean he knows something we don’t.”
“What if he has the Sight or something though? Like you have?”
“So what? Just because someone has the Sight doesn’t mean everything they see is true.”
“But you… you found me.”
“That’s because it was right that time. Who knows what could have happened. I could’ve went all the way to find out you didn’t exist. Would that mean that just because I saw something and didn’t find it that I was somehow better than everyone else, somehow more useful? Because if it does, hell—sign me up. I’ll be the king’s royal seer.”
“That’s not funny Nova.”
“But do you see my point?”
“Yeah,” Odin sighed. “I do.”
“Everything’s going to be all right,” the older man whispered, reaching out to pat Odin’s upper back. “Don’t worry. I promise.”
Somehow, Odin believed that, despite everything he felt.
Later that day, after Odin and Nova had bathed for what seemed like hours, Miko returned. Upon noticing the pair of them were freshly-washed and clean, he smiled, then strode across the room to sit at Odin’s side.
“You’re very handsome,” Miko said, touching Odin’s face. “As are you, Nova.”
“Thanks,” Nova grinned, reaching up to smooth his beard. “I kinda already figured I was though, since I’m a married man and all.”
“I know.” Miko returned his eyes to Odin. “Is there still water?”
“I’ll go run more,” Odin said, standing. He smiled when Miko pursed his lips. “It’s all right, sir. I was planning on doing it anyway”
“All right,” the Elf shrugged, slipping his cloak off his shoulders. “If you want, that’s fine. Don’t feel as though you have to.”
“I know.”
Odin reached up and gripped the Elf’s smooth wrist. He traced the muscles up his knight master’s arm until his hand came to rest on his shoulder, at which point his eyes fell to the Elf’s smooth, handsome face. As always when in the presence of such a tremendous creature, he stared until he figured his action too impolite, then turned and made his way into the bathing chamber.
As he pumped fresh, if salty water into the tub, he found himself thinking about what he and Nova had discussed earlier. Although his friend was only a few years older than he was, Nova held gems of knowledge in his mind that he could only hope to achieve. He couldn’t imagine being on this journey without him. Had Nova not been there, he would’ve never had the courage to introduce himself to Icklard and Domnin, nor would he have had the strength to traverse the shaking halls of a storm-battered ship. And now, pumping new bathwater for a creature he could have only hoped to dream of, he realized he would have never gotten over the worry and fear of the future heading his way like a loaded crossbow shooting its bolt had it not been for Nova.
He’s helped me a lot, Odin thought, reaching up to scratch an itch on his cheek. I don’t know what I’d do without him.
“Is it ready?”
Odin blinked. Miko set a hand on his shoulder, kneading the tightened muscle.
“Almost, sir,” Odin said, kneeling beside the water. “You can undress now.”
Miko slid his hands to the knot of his skirt while Odin held his hand over the water, warming its depths from top to bottom. He caught sight of Miko’s muscular legs, but quickly turned away, not wanting to stare like he’d done so long ago in Ornala.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Odin.”
“I know, sir. It’s just that… well, you already know what I think of you. You’re strong, smart… brave.”
“As are you, my friend.” Miko set a hand on Odin’s cheek, sliding a thumb along his jaw. Unnerved by the touch, Odin shivered and would have drawn away had he not the self restraint. “Is something wrong, Odin?”
“No, sir. Is… is the water warm enough?”
Miko stooped, sliding the tips of his nails inside. “Yes,” he nodded, stepping over and into the tub. “Thank you, Odin. I’ll call if I need anything.”
Odin nodded, accepted the grip his knight master offered, then left the room, trying his best to shake the image of a life-hardened warrior from his mind.
As traveling southwest would have predicted, the weather continued to worsen, often to the point where even the comfort of four walls all but diminished. Odin, who’d experienced this drastic change upon their initial maiden voyage, refused to go on the deck without reason now that the skin on his back, shoulders and arms was flaking.
“Dammit!” Odin cried as Nova rubbed balm on his back. “That fucking hurts!”
“Quite a mouth on you there,” Nova chuckled.
“Shut up.”
“I’m sorry, Odin, but don’t feel like you’re the only one who has it.”
“I know,” he sighed, biting his lower lip. It’d be raw by the time the day was over. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” The older man paused, spooning more balm onto his fingers. “Damn hot weather.”
“It makes you wonder where we’re actually going.”
“Sure as hell does,” Nova agreed.
“I just wish everything didn’t have to be such a big secret.”
“So do I, but you heard Miko—‘you’ll appreciate it more if you wait until we get there.’”
“Did you appreciate Neline?”
“No,” Nova mumbled. “I was cold and miserable both ways.”
Odin chuckled. Nova slapped the back of his head and dumped him out of the chair. “Hey!” Odin cried.
�
��Snooze you lose, bud.”
Smirking, Odin rose, brushed some dirt off his trousers, and walked to the bed, where he spread out across it on his stomach and tried his best not to move. “I hope this weather doesn’t last too long.”
“Even if it does, we’ll get used to it.”
“I guess.”
Nova settled down at the foot of the bed. “Just relax and get some sleep. The sunburn will be gone soon enough.”
“I know. Thanks Nova.”
“Don’t mention it.” Nova rose and crossed the short distance to his bed, but turned and looked out the window before he could get there.
“Something wrong?” Odin asked.
“No,” Nova said, glancing back at him. “It’s just…”
“Just… what?” Odin frowned, sitting up when Nova stopped speaking.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
The older man settled down on his bed without another word.
“I said I’m not going outside, guys.”
“Aww, come on,” Icklard said. “It’s not that bad.”
“Did you see my arms?” Odin asked, holding them out for emphasis.
“Yeah, we’ve seen them,” Domnin mumbled, “just like we’ve seen all the other men as well.” Icklard chuckled. Domnin elbowed him in the ribs. “Are you coming or not?”
“I—”
“Look.” Domnin reached into his pants pocket. He withdrew a clear glass bottle with honey-colored liquid inside. “This will keep you from getting burnt up out there.”
“I don’t know, guys.”
“We’ve been bored out of our minds without you,” Icklard said. “You only abandoned us without saying where you’d be.”
“You know I’d either be with you, Nova, or here in our room.”
“You’re never with your knight master,” Domnin agreed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing! Nothing!” Domnin raised his arms and nearly dropped the bottle of balm in the process. “I’m just saying—we never see him either.”
“Do you even know where he goes during the day?” Icklard frowned.
“No,” Odin said. “I don’t really care where he is as long as he’s not lonely.”
“Lonely?” Domnin asked.
“He’s told me some things about himself that makes me worry sometimes. Don’t worry—he’s all right. It’s just… well, you know how it is.”
“You worry about the people you care about.”
Odin nodded.
“So,” Icklard said, drawing the word out to get both Odin and his brother’s attention. “you gonna come out on the deck with us?”
“I guess,” Odin sighed.
“Good,” Domnin grinned. “`Cause we’re gonna climb the crow’s nest.”
High above the world, the crow’s nest lingered like a dark cloud waiting to spew forth a storm. Ropes, chained to a bird’s roost, dangled from its surface, creating a nest so wide and vast that even the largest spider would have taken pleasure in making its home there. However, no matter how safe or sturdy it looked, it did not quell the fear that rested in Odin’s chest, fluttering like a butterfly desperate to escape the clutches of some fang-toothed creature. He thought that if he let it go—if he took his first step onto the net and began to climb its tangles—that spider he had seen in his mind would come forward, snatch his butterfly from its cage, and make him fall to his death. His fear, as extreme as it was, caused him to shiver, so much that he imagined he must look a spectacle, considering his height and build.
“Odin?” Icklard asked, setting a hand on his arm. “Are you ok?”
“No,” Odin said, swallowing a lump in his throat. A bead of sweat ran down the bridge of his nose.
“Are you afraid of heights?”
“Nuh-Not really.”
Had he truly been afraid of such things, he would have never ventured to the window in that fifth tower on choice days, when he felt like the only person in the world. He would have never stared out at the young men training before and longed for any companionship, and he most definitely would not have thought about throwing himself out it.
One fall, his words had been. That’d be all it would take.
It would be the same with the net. If he did choose to take his first step onto the structure and the wind came up, shifting his next foot or handhold only slightly, it could easily send him falling dozens of feet back to the ship—or worse, into the ocean.
I can’t do this.
“I can’t do this,” Odin said, looking up at Icklard.
“I thought you said you weren’t afraid of heights?”
“I’m not. It… it’s just… I don’t want to fall.”
“You won’t fall,” Domnin said, setting a hand on his shoulder. “Besides—even if you do, me or Icklard can catch you.”
“It’s not that hard to stop someone in midair,” Icklard agreed.
“So don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”
“All right,” Odin sighed, stepping forward. He tilted his head back to examine the crow’s nest and once more shivered. “How do I do this?”
“Grab on, like this,” Icklard said, grabbing one piece of the rope, “then put your one foot here, then there. Like that.”
Odin waited, watching Icklard traverse the first few feet up the net. The man stopped, tightening his grip on one of the ropes, and let go with his other hand, waving them up. “It’s not that bad,” he laughed. “Come on.”
“Race you to the top!” Domnin jeered.
“You’re on, Dom!”
Domnin leapt onto the net and started up the ropes, soon catching up with his brother. Odin, on the other hand, merely watched, still unsure about the whole thing.
They’re going to think you’re a pussy if you don’t do this.
“I’m not weak,” he whispered, taking a step forward. “I know I’m not.”
With one last deep breath, Odin took hold of the rope and pulled himself up, doing just as Icklard instructed. Left hand first, then right, followed by each foot, he made his way up the net as though he’d been doing it all his life without a care in the world. Several times, the wind came up and shifted the ropes, taunting his fears and jeering at his advance, but he didn’t fall, not even when he thought he would.
“See!” Icklard called down, laughter in his voice. “It’s not that hard, is it?”
“No!” Odin laughed. “It isn’t!”
“Better hurry up!” Domnin yelled. “You’re going to lose the race if you don’t!”
That’s all right, he thought, but nodded so Domnin would know he’d heard him. I’d rather lose the race than my footing.
He continued climbing up the net, stopping every so often to observe the ocean or something that caught his eye. Several times, he thought he saw one of the air-breathing mammals, and even caught sight of a large group of fish that sparkled just beneath the surface of the water, reflecting their light back into the air as if they themselves were capable of producing luminescence. The sights alone made him regret not trying to come up here before.
Oh well. I’m here now.
Once at the top, Odin pulled himself into the nest with Domnin and Icklard’s help, then stopped to take a breath before pushing himself into a sitting position. Here, at the top of the world, the glaring heat of the sun burned the planks beneath their feet, forcing Odin to adjust his position or risk getting burned. After a moment, Icklard reached down and channeled magic into the wood, chilling its surface to a bearable temperature.
“I don’t know how long that will last,” Icklard said, “but it’s better than nothing, right?”
“Definitely,” Domnin greed, scratching his beard.
“Are you going to keep that?” Odin asked, watching Domnin toy with the hairs on his chin.
“I don’t know. I might.”
“Oh, he will,” Icklard grinned. “Jerdai likes it.”
“Shut up!” Domnin laughed, slapping his younger brother’s arm.
“Well, he does.”
“Have you two been better since…” Odin paused. “Since… uh… you know?”
“Oh,” Domnin mumbled. “You must’ve heard about the fight.”
“No one was talking about it, at least as far as I know. I found out about it only because I heard Jerdai swearing at himself one morning. I asked him what was wrong, so he ended up telling me. I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
“It’s all right,” Domnin said, running a hand through his hair. “But to answer your question, yeah—everything’s been fine.”
“Jerdai’s been better,” Icklard agreed.
“Except he’s still keeping us a secret.”
“He just doesn’t want to lose his job, that’s all.” Odin sighed. “I mean, I can understand how that must feel, but he’s doing it to keep your livelihood safe.”
“I guess you’re right,” the dark-haired brother agreed.
“Hey,” Icklard said, sliding an arm around Domnin’s upper back. “We came here to have fun, didn’t we? Don’t get down on us.”
“We did,” Domnin agreed, looking up at them. “Sorry, Odin.”
“It’s ok. Don’t worry about it.”
Odin stood and took hold of the wooden barrier that encircled the crow’s nest. The rocking boat made him nervous, especially considering that his footing could easily be disarmed and he could go plummeting into the deck or ocean below, but he figured he would be all right. The brothers wouldn’t let him fall.
“It’s beautiful,” Odin said, looking out at the area before them.
“It is,” Domnin nodded, taking place behind Odin. “It looks like it could go on forever.”
“It pretty much does,” Icklard muttered.
“Wait.” Odin paused, squinted, and pointed at something in the distance. “What is that?”
“What do you see?”
“Uh… Islands.”
Like animals silently stalking their kill, four islands of various shapes and sizes crept from the ocean, rearing heads that had not been seen until that point. Though not completely visible from their vantage high above the boat, they looked to be covered in dense foliage—pine, it seemed, though he wouldn’t know until they got closer. The longest and most-intimidating island curved in places like a jagged sword waiting to slice through the mainland at its most vulnerable moment.
