Bay of Sighs
Page 81
“You don’t have to.” With her hand still on Sasha’s shoulder, Riley exchanged a look with Sawyer. “All you need to do is tell Sawyer when and if you need Bran, or anything else.”
“That’s right.” Without realizing it, Sawyer took a firmer grip on his gun.
“It’s like—you can tell Bran when you go back in, Riley—it’s like she’s playing with me, just trying to distract me. I know she’s waiting, waiting for Malmon to fully become. There’s more but . . . it’s as if she wants me to try to see.”
“Maybe misdirection?”
“I don’t know, Riley. But I feel, I know she’s trying to lure me, and I’m not falling for it. Just as I know this interlude we’ve had, this really lovely break from searching, from fighting, from bleeding, is nearly done.”
“Then let’s enjoy it while it lasts.” Giving Sasha’s shoulder a final squeeze, exchanging a last look with Sawyer, Riley went back inside to tell Bran everything.
He watched her while she painted him. Flicked a glance up once when he saw Bran come out on the terrace, obviously checking for himself if he was needed.
Shortly after, Doyle strolled out, angled a chair, and sat, gaze on Sasha’s back. So Riley had made the rounds, Sawyer thought, and one way or another, Sasha was guarded.
He relaxed a little, let his mind drift a little. Wished Annika would come out. He wondered if, when they had the stars, when they found the Island of Glass and returned them—not if, but when—there would be time, just a few days, for him to be with her. Without war and vengeful gods, without responsibilities and risk.
It didn’t seem like much to ask, those few days.
“Have you told her you love her? I feel it,” Sasha said. “It’s so strong, I can’t not feel it. Have you told her?”
“What good would it do? It seems like it would only make her sad. I don’t want her to go back with regrets.”
“I don’t think a heart like Annika’s ever regrets love. And I believe love makes its own miracles.”
“The moon’s about to turn.” He could see the ghost of it behind the bold blue sky. “After that, she gets two more. Some people get lifetimes, some get moments. I’ve got to tell myself it’s what you do with what you get that counts.”
“I believe that, too. I’ve come to believe exactly that. Don’t you regret what you didn’t say, didn’t do.”
Lowering her brush, studying the canvas, she stepped back. “That’s it for now. I can finish it without you.” To loosen them, she rolled her shoulders. “And we can both use a break.”
Ready for that break, he walked over, stood beside her to see the work.
“Well, wow.”
“You like it?”
“Yeah. It’s . . . again, wow.”
She’d painted him with the hills rising at his back, everything sunbaked, brilliant, alive.
“How do you get the light to just . . . pour like that?”
“Trick of the trade.”
He shook his head. “Scope of the talent. I know it’s here, because I know those hills, but the way you’ve painted the background, it could be anywhere with hills, mountains, sky.”
“That’s what I wanted, because that’s the scope of your gift. And you look out from the painting knowing it, sure in it. Riley helped with that.”
“Riley?”
“I couldn’t get what I wanted from you until she did, and you got loose, poked at her, grinned with it. That’s you, Sawyer. Hand on your gun, ready to fight when you must, compass in your hand, ready to travel where you’re needed. But just as ready for a friend.”
“You made it glow—the compass.”
“It did glow.”
“No, it didn’t. I’d have felt it.”
“It glowed for me.” She hesitated when, as he still held it, he looked down at it. “It may be I just saw what it will do, or has done,” she told him.
But she knew better. It had glowed, soft, steady, when he’d thought of Annika.
He waited until after the evening meal, after the decision to wait one more full day before diving again. He wouldn’t argue that, because with what he hoped to do, he might need that extra recovery day.
“With any luck when we do go out, I’ll have a location, or at least a direction. We’ll know where we want to be,” Riley concluded.
“Good enough. Now, Annika needs the sea.”
Bran nodded at Sawyer. “I’ll take her down later.”
“No, I’ll take her.” As Doyle shook his head, Sawyer aimed a pointed look. “I wouldn’t say I’d take her if I wasn’t sure I could, and it won’t be here, where Nerezza may sniff us out. I’ve got a place she can have some freedom.”
“You’re not a hundred percent, Sawyer,” Riley began.
“No, but I’m closer, and this is something I’ve been doing for a while now. I know what I can handle. I wouldn’t take chances with Annika, with any of us.”
“The pool is very nice. I’m happy with it.”
“You need the sea. You’ll be stronger for it. And I need to work muscles other than biceps. I need to tune up, and this is a way to do both. Can you trust me for this?”
“I do. I trust you for anything,” Annika said.
“We need to know where you are, and a time frame.” Bran glanced around the table. “That’s nonnegotiable.”
“That’s right.” Without realizing it, Sawyer took a firmer grip on his gun.
“It’s like—you can tell Bran when you go back in, Riley—it’s like she’s playing with me, just trying to distract me. I know she’s waiting, waiting for Malmon to fully become. There’s more but . . . it’s as if she wants me to try to see.”
“Maybe misdirection?”
“I don’t know, Riley. But I feel, I know she’s trying to lure me, and I’m not falling for it. Just as I know this interlude we’ve had, this really lovely break from searching, from fighting, from bleeding, is nearly done.”
“Then let’s enjoy it while it lasts.” Giving Sasha’s shoulder a final squeeze, exchanging a last look with Sawyer, Riley went back inside to tell Bran everything.
He watched her while she painted him. Flicked a glance up once when he saw Bran come out on the terrace, obviously checking for himself if he was needed.
Shortly after, Doyle strolled out, angled a chair, and sat, gaze on Sasha’s back. So Riley had made the rounds, Sawyer thought, and one way or another, Sasha was guarded.
He relaxed a little, let his mind drift a little. Wished Annika would come out. He wondered if, when they had the stars, when they found the Island of Glass and returned them—not if, but when—there would be time, just a few days, for him to be with her. Without war and vengeful gods, without responsibilities and risk.
It didn’t seem like much to ask, those few days.
“Have you told her you love her? I feel it,” Sasha said. “It’s so strong, I can’t not feel it. Have you told her?”
“What good would it do? It seems like it would only make her sad. I don’t want her to go back with regrets.”
“I don’t think a heart like Annika’s ever regrets love. And I believe love makes its own miracles.”
“The moon’s about to turn.” He could see the ghost of it behind the bold blue sky. “After that, she gets two more. Some people get lifetimes, some get moments. I’ve got to tell myself it’s what you do with what you get that counts.”
“I believe that, too. I’ve come to believe exactly that. Don’t you regret what you didn’t say, didn’t do.”
Lowering her brush, studying the canvas, she stepped back. “That’s it for now. I can finish it without you.” To loosen them, she rolled her shoulders. “And we can both use a break.”
Ready for that break, he walked over, stood beside her to see the work.
“Well, wow.”
“You like it?”
“Yeah. It’s . . . again, wow.”
She’d painted him with the hills rising at his back, everything sunbaked, brilliant, alive.
“How do you get the light to just . . . pour like that?”
“Trick of the trade.”
He shook his head. “Scope of the talent. I know it’s here, because I know those hills, but the way you’ve painted the background, it could be anywhere with hills, mountains, sky.”
“That’s what I wanted, because that’s the scope of your gift. And you look out from the painting knowing it, sure in it. Riley helped with that.”
“Riley?”
“I couldn’t get what I wanted from you until she did, and you got loose, poked at her, grinned with it. That’s you, Sawyer. Hand on your gun, ready to fight when you must, compass in your hand, ready to travel where you’re needed. But just as ready for a friend.”
“You made it glow—the compass.”
“It did glow.”
“No, it didn’t. I’d have felt it.”
“It glowed for me.” She hesitated when, as he still held it, he looked down at it. “It may be I just saw what it will do, or has done,” she told him.
But she knew better. It had glowed, soft, steady, when he’d thought of Annika.
He waited until after the evening meal, after the decision to wait one more full day before diving again. He wouldn’t argue that, because with what he hoped to do, he might need that extra recovery day.
“With any luck when we do go out, I’ll have a location, or at least a direction. We’ll know where we want to be,” Riley concluded.
“Good enough. Now, Annika needs the sea.”
Bran nodded at Sawyer. “I’ll take her down later.”
“No, I’ll take her.” As Doyle shook his head, Sawyer aimed a pointed look. “I wouldn’t say I’d take her if I wasn’t sure I could, and it won’t be here, where Nerezza may sniff us out. I’ve got a place she can have some freedom.”
“You’re not a hundred percent, Sawyer,” Riley began.
“No, but I’m closer, and this is something I’ve been doing for a while now. I know what I can handle. I wouldn’t take chances with Annika, with any of us.”
“The pool is very nice. I’m happy with it.”
“You need the sea. You’ll be stronger for it. And I need to work muscles other than biceps. I need to tune up, and this is a way to do both. Can you trust me for this?”
“I do. I trust you for anything,” Annika said.
“We need to know where you are, and a time frame.” Bran glanced around the table. “That’s nonnegotiable.”
