Chapter 23

I think about Kai and what he's doing. It's difficult not to. When I came to the decision to leave, I told myself I wouldn't look back. I'd focus on moving forward, where I've always wanted to go—home.

It's a place that now feels like a myth. Maybe the ocean never ends. This is the hell I've heard of, not fire but an endless, fruitless reservoir.

I wonder if Kai thinks about me at all or if he's too busy constructing his own plans. Moving his chess pieces. Doing Kai things. Conniving.

The hunger is gone. That's a nice reprieve. Every now and then a stabbing sensation will shoot through my abdomen, but other than that, all is good. Well, other than the unrelenting thirst, but I'm only allowed to think about that every other swallow. I've forbidden it.

Even Blue is less interactive. He has to be even hungrier than we are. Surely, he would fly to find food if it became dire enough. Unless…unless he does intend on eating Acker. I look up at him perched on the weathervane and find him sleeping, head tucked under a wing.

Good gods, I'm in the early stages of delirium. I've heard stories of sailors who went mad. Messer told a story passed down from his grandfather about a fisherman they found after being lost at sea for half a year, said he ripped all his hair out. Maybe I will be hairless.

My gasp jerks Acker awake.

"Oh, hey. I'm sorry," I whisper. "Didn't mean to wake you."

He leans on an elbow to get a better look at me in the dark. "What are you doing?"

"Contemplating pulling my hair out."

He makes a face, half amusement and half confusion. "Please don't. Contrary to what I said, I rather like your hair."

I smile and run my fingers down the fishing line. "I'm just waiting for a bite."

There's a stretch of quiet where all we can hear is each of us breathing and the gentle sway of the boat. That is until he utters two words that stop my breathing altogether.

"Come here." His voice is deep and heavy between us. He motions for me to come with a wave of his hand. "You're not going to catch anything tonight, and I don't trust you to wake me to switch out."

I whisper my darkest thought. "Sleeping feels like giving up."

He huffs out a breath and shakes his head. "I'd wager quite a bit on the number of times you've ever given up on something," he says, a dry grin on his lips. "It's less than five, undoubtedly."

It's my turn to breathe out a laugh.

After a moment, he demands, "Come here ."

"The tiller—"

"Isn't going to move. Look at the sail."

It hangs limp from the mast, not a trace of wind to ruffle it.

"I stink," I warn .

"I know. I smell you from here."

I shoot him a murderous glare, but it only serves to widen his smile, and I cave. I release the line and scootch in beside him, careful to leave space between us as I lie down on my side. There's barely enough room for one fully grown adult, let alone two, and I contort my arm to create a makeshift pillow. After the third shift, Acker extends his arm in my direction. I stare at the inside of his forearm, pondering my options.

"I'm not going to bite you," he says. "Not today, anyway."

His teasing provides enough levity for me to use his arm as a cushion for my head without it feeling weirder than it needs to be. He also smells alarmingly better than I do. First thing on the agenda tomorrow is a dip in the ocean.

"You said you could smell me."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm sure I smell just as pleasant as you do. Kind of cancels each other out."

"No. Back in Alaha, in the brig," I clarify. "You said you could smell that I had been in it."

"Ah. It's the iron in your blood."

"You can distinguish between people?"

He thinks about it for a moment. "Sometimes. It depends."

"On…?"

"How familiar I am with someone, I suppose. It can be as unremarkable or as memorable as any scent." He leans in and inhales, nostrils flaring wide with a kiss of smile in his eyes. "You smell like wildflowers. The kind that grows on the hills of Kenta."

I can feel the course of my flush reach from the top of my head to my toes. I try not to appear as affected as I am, but it's hard to do when he's smiling at me with his stupid mouth and stupider teasing eyes.

He makes a face. "Underneath the stench, I mean."

It breaks the spell I'm under, and I swat him in the chest with my free hand.

Laughing, he traps my hand beneath his between us. "Sleep, Jovie. You can enact your retribution on me tomorrow."

I don't need his permission to sleep, but I can't deny I'm comforted by Acker's insistence. I feel like death warmed over. If he doesn't see the harm in both of us getting some rest, that's plenty convincing for me.

I trust him, I realize. Not fully, not yet. But I think he's smart and loyal. To some degree, at least, which is more than I can say about most people back in Alaha.

Then I close my eyes and dream.

It's the same one where I'm in a comfortable bed full of pillows, a bed fit for a giant it's so large. I'm waiting for the transition to the meadow where I'm making a crown of wildflowers, but it doesn't come. Instead, I'm fighting to remain asleep. I like the bed and I don't want to wake just yet, but something keeps tugging at my shoulder.

"Jovie."

I awake to Acker nudging me, his expression full of excitement and urgency.

"Look," he says, eyes darting up.

I look up and stop breathing.

Stars.

Coating the sky instead of clouds, pinpricks of light reflect off the flat plane of the ocean as far as the eye can see. The water is so still, a tranquility I've never seen before, converging where the sky and water meet to create a sphere of unknown origin in every direction.

The boat is unmoving, as frozen as the water beneath it, and it's as if we're a part of the sky. I lean over to get a better look at the reflection on the surface of the water. It feels like I could dip my hand in and touch a star, the mirror image from above unwavering.

"Have you ever witnessed anything like this before?" Acker whispers.

I shake my head. "Never."

"Can you make anything out of them? Any of the constellations?"

There are more stars than sky. I can't make out any sort of configuration or shape I've studied before. I shake my head. If he's disappointed by my answer, he doesn't show it, his gaze as wide as mine. He stands and pulls the fishing lines from the water, sending the stars' reflections scattering in every direction.

I stand too. "What are you doing?"

He stashes the rods in a hurry and pulls his shirt over his head. "I'm going to swim with the stars," he says, as if the answer should be obvious. He shucks off his pants just as quickly and stands on the side of the boat. "What are you waiting for?"

Then he winks at me and dives in, sending the illusion into ripples of light. He emerges and shakes the water from his hair, smiling ear to ear. I can't help but follow.

Past the point of modesty, I strip to my undergarments and slip into the water. It's cooler than I expect, and a shiver racks my body. I try to keep my movements to a minimum under the water to preserve the reflections.

Blue caws from above before taking flight. There's no wind for him to rely on, so he only makes a circle once before returning to the post, as if he, too, wanted to experience flying with infinity. I lie on my back and Acker does the same, floating next to me. We don't speak. There's no need to.

We stay like that until our skin is wrinkled and our exhaustion takes over. It feels like hours have passed by the time we climb back into the boat. We're too tired to wait to dry and dress, so we lie without a care for immodesty. The night air is perfect against my damp skin. It's the calmest I've felt since…

I can't recall a memory before sleep claims me.