Fishing and Accountability

Catherine, Marco, JH, go to Rimini

Elizabeth says she’ll go with you and Zheng to Japan

Also, choose someplace warmer than Japan

Mo is on his way. Pretend to be surprised. They don’t know you can read the portal like that.

I shut the notebook as quietly as I could. Marco and Izzy were still asleep. Where was my bag? I’d put it down right here yesterday before dinner. I rummaged around the small table and over near the rug Marco had moved into the tent.

“Where is it?” I lifted up a stack of garments Izzy had acquired. I swear, I had put it down just over there. Who would have moved it?

“Going somewhere?” Marco interrupted my thoughts. I turned and saw him looking at me through his hag stone.

“Put that away.” He was such a nerd, wearing that rock strung around his neck like a summer camp craft. He’d added a few beads and small shells to the strands of tough woven grasses holding it all together. Izzy had praised him for it. She was a huge nerd too. 

“I put a sack in here yesterday. Did you see it?”

He reached under his side of the bed and pulled it out. I know I hadn’t put it there.

“Tell Captain Khan I say good morning.”

Damn him. 

“I’ll do that.” I grabbed the bag from his hands and headed for the door.

Marco followed me. “He’s got a good ship. Sturdy. One person could sail it alone.”

Fucking Marco.

“Really? Hadn’t noticed.” I would be back before anyone could miss me. I patted my bag to feel that my wallet, phone, and charger cord was still inside. Anything else I could replace when I got there.

“Annie, with Mo coming, I was hoping you might give me a haircut. I’ve let it get long. I would prefer to make a good impression. As I haven’t got the wardrobe I have to rely on my pretty face.” He stroked his beard which also needed a trim.

I laughed and shoved some useful items in the sack. “Nice try. Ask me when I get back. I’ll have your clothing ready by then too.” I’d stop by the Try Your Luck and pick up the bolts of cloth I’d selected last night. I’d work on his wardrobe as I sailed.

Marco opened the door flap and stood staring at the early sunrise and the ships bobbing in the surf. He stayed put.

“Move. No one is going to know or care.” I’d be back within an hour or two…probably. It would be fine. Izzy would still be asleep and she could wake to a sister who’d had the benefit of time and distance and many many tequilas at Argentina’s finest swim up bar.

“I won’t get in your way.” He stepped clear of my path and let me through. Suspicious, but an open door was an open door. I shifted the satchel and walked past him. “I’ll care,” he murmured as I walked by.

Damn him.

“I want to be out on the water. All this land…” I felt stagnant, like oil and dirt were caked on my skin. I wasn’t doing anyone any good here. It was past time to leave. No one would even know! “Please just let me leave.”

“I’m a fair hand at swabbing decks. May I come with you?” he asked as I started to leave again.

“No men on my ship.”

“That’s not your ship.” He gestured to the dhow that was easily sailable by one partially injured captain.

“You won’t even know I’m gone. I’ll come back. It’ll be mere moments for you.” I couldn’t keep him and it would be better not to try. If it wasn’t Catherine it would just be someone else. He and I were a moment, that’s all we ever had, that’s all we’d ever be.

“And how long for you? I’d like to go with you,” he lied.

“Stop lying.” He wouldn’t stay; we both knew this. He hadn’t even asked to go to Japan.

“I’m not the liar, Annie.” He huffed and ran his fingers through his hair, finally raising his hands in defeat. “I’m going fishing for dinner tonight. Thought I’d give your sister something different to prepare.” He walked off towards some row boats and began talking with some men there, negotiating for nets and hooks. He didn’t look back at me. Now was my chance. I could disappear.

Marco put his gear in the small boat and started pushing it down the shore to the water.

I would be back before anyone even noticed. Without Elizabeth and her aging face to tell on me, no one would know I’d ever left. My plan was to go to Argentina. Find a hotel with room service and a full bar and stay there till I could come up with a plan. It might take years. Maybe I’d go to Austria too. Tackle all the countries that start with A. Armenia, Angola, Azerbaijan. I bet Azerbaijan had some great bars. There would be no one to hurt there. No one would present confusing and difficult relationships. No one would come sailing in to convince me to retire. It would be safer for everyone. Then, when I came back, I could make better choices. Ones that wouldn’t make anyone cry.

No one would miss me.

They wouldn’t.

Marco looked back at me and raised his eyebrows, crooking his head to the rowboat and inviting me along. He was a terrible sailor. He was going to sink that boat. Argentina would still be there if I left tomorrow.

I tossed my bag back on the bed and met him at the stern of the small boat and together we shoved it into the waves. He jumped in first and pulled me upright as a wave broke in the boat and we fell together, a tangle of limbs. I pushed him off me and got into a seat.

“You really do need a haircut.” I splashed him with water and handed him an oar.

“Aye aye, Captain Annie.” He grinned.

Together we successfully got over the breakers. We rowed out a deal farther and I lay back and soaked up the sun and the beautiful rhythm of the tide under salt worn boards. Marco tossed me a net. I shoved it off to the side.

“Oh no, no, no. This is your errand. You wanted to fish, I wanted to save myself the effort of hauling your drowned butt off the reefs.”

“And here I was thinking you wanted to eat tonight. More fool me.” He baited a line and cast it in the water. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the afternoon. Maybe I wasn’t en route to the portal but I was on the water and it was always better with Marco. The portal wasn’t disappointed in my choice to stay here with him today. We’d see each other soon, I was sure.

And, I suppose, Mo would also be put out if I left. He was drawing closer every hour and I knew I was the top item on his agenda. He wanted me on his ship back to the temple this time. I was sure of it.

There was nothing similar about the decision to leave here for a quick South American vacation versus leaving to retire to the temple. Going to the temple was akin to bowing out of life here in the real world; surrendering control over your timestream. Like a feral cat taken in by a well meaning soul, you could watch the world you used to rule through windows, seeing all the birds in the snow and the mice in the feilds, but you lived indoors now. Perhaps I could escape out the door every now and then like Mo did, come to this world for parties and to visit old friends, but my allegiance would be to the temple and the continuance of its power, not myself. All my effort, all my energy, everything I’d worked for would mean nothing in that place. I would need to let go of everything I’d built.

They didn’t care about how intimately I knew the trading prices of a bolt of cotton or cask of salt. They wouldn’t care about the age of the roof at Heron’s Landing or how extensive the warranty was. Nor would they blink about any menu developments at Izzy’s restaurant or how annoying her bosses were. None of that mattered there. All of that still mattered to me. It was my existence. Who would I be without who I was dogging my every step?

Mo sailed ever closer and I was no closer to figuring out how I would meet his arguments to leave with him and give all this up.

Marco tore me from my introspection as he shouted, “Ah! Got one! Annie! The net!”

I scrambled to wrangle the fish as he pulled the line in. A good size silvery fish came slapping its way into the boat. I trapped it in the net so it would stay still as I struck the thing behind the brains and cut the throat latch. I started singing a song as the fish bled out, an old tune that Marco taught me back at the temple when I was first learning his language. A fisherman sat out in a boat all day calling for the fish to come be his dinner but no fish agreed to jump in his boat. It was just a silly children’s melody. Marco joined in and we sang several verses together. He already had another line in the water as I performed the fish’s last rites.

We managed to catch an ilish, an amberjack, and some various panfishes. I was hoping for flounder but no luck. It was easy being with Marco like this. Just fishing, telling stories, making fun of Zheng. I was mostly sort of half glad that I was in this boat with him fishing instead of on my way to Buenos Aires. It wasn’t the worst.

Marco insisted on changing my bandages after we finished pulling the boat up on shore. I didn’t fight him. The wound was tender but closed. He still dabbed at it with the alcohol and wrapped me back up in clean linen rolls. Next he installed me on a chair by the fire pit and told me to “just sit there and heal so that Mo doesn’t blame me for letting you get skewered by pirates.”

“Pretty sure he can’t blame you for this one.”

“If anyone can find a way, he can.” Marco smiled at his own private memory and focused on kindling the cooking fire outside of Zheng’s tent.

I tried to sit. I really did. Marco’s hair was long though. Mo might blame him for my injuries but I got blamed for being cheap with my money when I should be keeping our family in good sturdy clothing and shampoo. We all had our roles in this family. I was expected to pay. Mo was expected to advise. Zheng was expected to house any of us that crossed her path. Maui hadn’t lived long enough to get to a point where he had expectations. In my heart I knew what his role was/would have been. He was the one who brought us together and kept us together. He would have been that one family member who organized the family reunions, sent out holiday newsletters, and brokered peace between dueling members. Every family needed that one member who kept up the lines of communication.

I hated him for what he did to us.

No. I loved him. I missed him. If I hadn’t failed him he’d be here.

I went in search of scissors to give Marco a haircut. I knew Zheng had some in her tent. She’d stolen at least one pair from me last time I was here…or the time before that. I would need to pat my old friend down and make sure she wasn’t smuggling any of my stuff off my ship this time. Once she’d sat for over an hour listening to my old analog watch tick. I’d let her keep it. I’d stolen it from my mother and she certainly didn’t expect it returned.

I found the scissors in an area that could have been a desk or could have been an explosion of chaos. Zheng had always been a pack rat even at the temple. Everything had more than one use and she was determined never to release an item till she’d squeezed every last bit of usefulness from each fiber. Looks like she’d spent her time cutting snowflakes into old ledger pages. There was a comb close by and I found a sharp razor like-blade that would be a help since the scissors were likely blunted and notched in places. I shrugged. He’d be fine.

Marco had the fire built up nicely and I sat him down and got to work. His hair had grown well past his shoulders. He just needed a few inches off so he could tie it back in a low ponytail. He closed his eyes and relaxed as I washed and combed out his hair. The scissors were sharp enough and what they couldn’t cut, the sharp blade could. I’d cut his hair many times at the temple and after the temple. He trusted me not to do a butcher job. Zheng had chopped mine off for me not long before Elizabeth and I had returned to Greenland. I rarely wore my hair down so it wasn’t noticeable. Next time I went home I’d get a real haircut. I froze. Again, I saw Vivienne and myself standing over Izzy’s overgrown grave.

“Annie? Something wrong? Did you go too short?” Marco reached back to see if I’d scalped him. I pushed his head back to position.

“Your hair is fine. Calm down. Just got distracted.”

“What? Where’s a mirror?” He reached around again, and again I restrained his hands.

“Stop it. You look fine.” I combed another section and continued cutting despite his fussing. No one would know it from the threadbare clothing he wore but Marco was a vain creature at heart. It’s why I knew he’d wear that damn coat if I made it for him no matter how much he protested.

“I would appreciate your full focus here,” he grumbled. I laughed and kept straightening his head to make sure it was all even.

“Your beard could use a trim too.” I swept the stray hair off his shoulder and dusted him off as he stood.

“As if I’m going to let you near my throat when you get distracted and cut my hair too short.”

“It’s not too short! It’s the same as always.”

“Feels short.” He ruffled his hair and backed away under pretense of stoking the fire.

“Come back here. I’ll shave every inch of you.” I menaced him with the scissors but he just tossed a log into my waiting arms and kept working. Marco kept running his fingers through his shortened locks and shooting me betrayed looks. I had not taken off too much. He looked good, like he always did.

A horse whinnied behind me and I dropped the log. Fucking horses. Marco looked up as the fire jumped and sparked and I turned and saw Izzy sitting astride the monstrous beast. Shit. On top of that she’d seen me drop the log after the horse made its stupid horse noise. Another screw up. I stoked the fire like I had dropped the log on purpose. Didn’t look like Marco bought my act but he didn’t say anything, just continued arranging our catch and bringing out the whetstone to sharpen the knives we’d need to clean the fish.

“Hi. How’s it going?” Izzy stayed up on her high horse. Her guards made no move to leave either.

“Good so far.” At least till she brought that stupid horse over here. “You?” I backed away from the horse’s hooves. A perfectly good morning spoiled by hooves… again. Marco came up next to me and started cleaning up the supplies from his salon appointment. He held up a long lock of his hair in betrayal. I tossed it in the fire. I had followed his instructions. His hair wasn’t too short.

Why was she here? She needed to get to work. She had a party to organize and a course to chart across the seas. All morning, the crews on her new ships had been playing and hanging around and eating. No one was actively stocking the holds or negotiating for goods. I hadn’t seen one person with a map or chart out yet. What I had seen were many people surrounding Izzy’s kitchen eating through all the food stores they’d be desperate for by the time they rounded the cape. I checked all my reactions twice before moving.

“Pretty good. Had a nice ride. How was your...boating?” She kept sitting there on her horse, her guards behind her on theirs.

Were they here to protect her from me? Was I supposed to leave? Did she need this hearth? I looked to Marco to see if he knew. He did not. He handed me some kindling and I was grateful to have a meaningless task to focus on.

“Good. Caught some fish,” I answered and kept feeding kindling to the flames.

“Got a good variety. We got out nice and early. They were biting.” Marco spoke up. He gestured to the fish waiting on the planks for cleaning.

“Looks like you all got a nice batch. Maybe you can bring some by for dinner later?” she asked, still atop her horse. “We are going to have dinner later, right?”

I focused on the fire. She was giving me an out. Did I want to take it? Part of me did.

“Want to?” Marco asked me in Hurrian. He knew me too well. In fact, if I answered that I didn’t want to share a meal with her, he’d make an excuse for us and take the blame. Actually, dear sister, I had planned on taking Annie and these fish out for a small dinner alone. Would you mind terribly sharing her with me tonight? I have something rather important I’d like to ask her.

Even Marco’s imagined excuse scared me.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I answered him quickly in Hurrian. To Izzy I answered a simple, “Sure.” Of course we could have our regular evening meal. It’s not like anything had changed between us. We could eat together like civilized people. I’d have to be a fucking psycho to answer otherwise.

Marco moved back to the fish and picked up a fileting knife. “Want me to cook them? Or should I save them for you?” he asked Izzy as he examined the blade before putting it to the whetstone for sharpening.

“Whatever you want.” She dismounted, her guards following suit. Great. Now there was nothing to control that beast whatsoever. I was out of kindling.

“We’ll cook them.” I stood and dusted my hands off. I was planning on cooking them anyway. “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of business to take care of. We can handle dinner tonight.” Did she take the hint? They needed to get their asses working. They were far behind schedule if they were going to make it across the whole damn world. I hadn’t seen one barrel of clean water loaded down their dock. No one had approached me about the salt pork. No one had approached me about anything and I was the only one in this damn compound who had ever made that journey! Unbelievable. They were all going to die.

She checked on some other pots simmering in the hearth. There was a dutch oven set up with coals burning on top and underneath the iron pot with a sweet smell emanating out of it. Hoped it was pie.

“Okay. Oh – I made you something. Ta-dah.” Izzy produced a flower crown with a flourish and put it on my head.

I didn’t get it.

“What’s this for?” I felt the delicate flowers and thought I must look like an ogre playing dress up. Why had she done this?

“I was remembering when you taught me how to make flower crowns. And these are great flowers for braiding. So I made it for you. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it.”

I still didn’t get it.

“You look very pretty,” Marco said in Hurrian. I looked over at him to see he had his hag stone up to his eye again. He put it down and just smiled.

“Shut up,” I told him in Hurrian and left the crown where it was. I turned back to Izzy. “Thanks. Are your new friends coming for dinner?” Maybe if I could get them within earshot I could scrutinize their plans and triangulate just how far they’d make it before foundering or getting boarded.

“I – I didn’t think they’d be welcome,” she answered.

“Up to you. Should we keep some aside for your guards?” It wasn’t a real question. Of course her servants would be fed.

“Yes, that would be nice. Thank you. I have some errands to run,” she said. Her guards remounted and waited for their mistress to lead the way.

“Okay then. See you at dinner.” I moved over to Marco and took a knife from him. I pulled the ilish close to begin work.

“Alright. See you then.” Izzy got back on her horse with a flourish and all of them rode off. I tossed the flower crown aside. Marco picked it up and put it with his things.

He and I started cleaning the fish as the fire burnt down to coals hot enough to cook on. I scaled them and he beheaded them and soon we had an array of perfect filets just waiting for cooking. Marco beckoned over several local women to finish the work and shoved me out of the way.

“I said I would cook them. I’ll cook them.” Honestly, just because I didn’t have bread and herbal cocktails flowing out my ass, they assumed I couldn’t make a meal.

“They’ll do it. We have more pressing business,” he said, all too casual.

“What –”

“Zheng! Your assistance please!” he called out. I spun to see he’d successfully caught her attention with his call. I did not like the enormous grin growing on Her Excellency’s face. Never a good sign.

I spun back to him. “What are you –” Marco swept me up and started heading to the beach. I screamed and clung on. “Put me down!” I kicked out as he kept moving.

“You two finally getting down and dirty?” Zheng ran up.

“Nope. I need your help tossing her in the water. She stinks of fish and she tried to escape this morning. Get her shoes,” he blabbed. He started aiming for the farthest dock.

“You little shit. You did what?!” Zheng immediately went to my feet and started pulling off my boots. She trapped my flailing legs and started yanking my boots off.

“Tattletale! Fink! Narc!” I yelled as I kicked. Marco held me tighter.

“Don’t know what any of those words mean.” He beamed as he strode down the dock.

“Yes you do! Put me down!” I yelled.

“Toss her in!” Zheng successfully threw my second boot away.

“My bandages!” I tried in a last ditch effort. How Marco was holding me, I wasn’t in pain, but it was worth a shot.

“Time to change them anyway.” He kept grinning. “Zheng, you get her feet.”

“No!” I protested again before they launched me off the end of the dock. The cool water hit me and I laughed and churned to the surface. The water felt fantastic on my arm and leg and I broke the surface laughing and watched them jump in after me. Marco dove in with perfect form. Zheng cannonballed.

“I hope you both get eaten by sharks.” I laughed as I stretched out and floated on top of the water. They swam over to join me.

“Worth it,” Zheng cackled. “So where the hell were you going to go?”

“Argentina. Buenos Aires. Most expensive hotel I could find that would deliver waffles to my room.”

“Can’t argue with that. Should have told me and not this snitch. We would have been halfway to those waffles by now.”

“I didn’t tell him he guessed.” I splashed Marco in retaliation.

“Helps that you are a terrible actress. Just awful. Besides, you’d leave right when we might have the whole family back together?” He swam up next to me despite the splashing.

“He’s got to be on his way. He must know we are out of Fountain.” Zheng looked out at the horizon but there was nothing to see yet.I continued floating on the water letting wave after wave pass under me and merely shrugged in response.

Like the other days I’d been out here, the portal ran through me even this far out. As the three of us floated, talking and laughing, it reminded me of when we were at the temple. There were no servants or sisters or fleets of merchant ships. There was just us and that had been more than enough. Soon, a few days at most, Mo would join us and our family would be complete for the first time in ages. I could feel him coming closer.

He and I shared a relationship with each other unlike any of the others. To Zheng he was a lover, to Marco he was a friend and confidant, to Maui he’d been a fishing buddy. Mo and I, we were two popes splitting dominion over the Roman empire. Where he was weak, I was strong, where I stumbled he walked with sure steps. Lately I’d been stumbling too much and he was coming to call me out on the carpet for it.

For ages now he’d been after me to make my move to the temple. I was fighting him about it but my arguments were growing thin. The temple was an awful terrible place, yes. No argument. However, for me, it was uncomplicated there. Expectations were clear. As sacrifices, Mo ran had run from the place but I had clung to it. I clung to it because it was the first place in my life I wasn’t expected to behave or act like anyone besides myself.

At an unspecified time after we all split up, Mo went back to live there permanently. He would take the occasional shore excursion to check in on us but the temple was his home now. He was at peace there and he was making excellent arguments about how I might be at peace there too.

Mo was a powerful and severe presence. He never asked anyone to do more than he did. He was protective and inclusive and demanding. I really loved him. And I really didn’t want him to come visit right now.

Eventually we made our way back to shore. Gravity pulled at me, demanding I carry my weight again. I was soaked. Marco and Zheng had stripped somewhat before jumping in but I’d been tossed over with all my clothing and leg wraps. It was a good opportunity to change the wraps and apply the ointment. I’d been keeping them on longer than I should with Marco living in such close proximity to me. I told them I was going to dry off and change on the ship.

Elizabeth was working with a small crew, caulking holes in the hull. I nodded to her as I squelched up the gangplank.

“Dinner is ready. Take tonight off. Tomorrow too,” I ordered. She’d been working hard and deserved a break.

“Soon, Captain. Anything you need?”

“Actually, yeah. Zheng left my boots on the dock by the Urchin. Can you bring them down to me?”

“Of course.” Elizabeth dismissed her crew and went off to find the boots.

Safe down in my cabin, I peeled off my soaking shirt and pants. My chest bandages were soggy but clean, no fresh blood from the morning’s exertions. However, I couldn’t bend over fully to unwrap and rewrap. Elizabeth returned with my boots to find me groaning as I attempted to torque myself in such a way as to merely reach my toes.

“Captain?” Elizabeth caught me as I tipped over. “Can I help?”

“No,” I grumbled. Then she had to help me sit up and I had to relent. “Actually, yes. Is Catherine around too? I could use you both.”

“She’s by the hearth. I’ll go get her. Sit. Don’t move,” she instructed.

I rubbed my chest and struggled to relax. This wasn’t going to be easy. I stretched out at the galley table and tried to breathe. The two of them returned a short time later.

“Captain?” Catherine came down the steps and took in my half dressed appearance. “You needed us?”

“Yeah, I need you to help me change the wraps.” I eased my feet off the opposite chair. Catherine went to my chest. 

“No, my legs. Well, chest too. But also legs.” Both girls hesitated. “I wouldn’t ask but I’m –”

“Of course, Captain. I’ll go get the wraps. Elizabeth, can you help her get these wet things off?” Catherine ducked into my cabin.

“Maybe a drink first?” I asked. Elizabeth and I looked at each other awkwardly.

“Definitely,” she agreed. Then she walked into the galley, poured a glass of whiskey and took it like a shot. Then the harpy poured me a glass of water and cackled.

There is nothing so humbling as having to ask others to help you do what should be a simple function involving your body. We tackled my chest first. Then I leaned on Elizabeth as Catherine unwound the miles of bandages around my legs. She was gentle at the points where the wraps were stuck to the scars. She got them all off though and I sat back down and dressed the scars with Izzy’s ointment. Catherine laid out a clean outfit.

“Not that I mind, of course,” the young woman spoke as she debated between a yellow and a sky blue kurta, “but wouldn’t you prefer to have Marco help you?”

“Or Zheng,” Elizabeth added. The two of them decided on the light blue kurta for me and yellow with gold embroidery for bottoms. They shared a knowing smile I’d seen embedded on every face in the compound as Marco and I spent our days together.

“No. Marco – neither of them really, has ever seen the scars. I’d prefer it stayed that way.” They knew I’d been burnt. It was ancient history. I never undressed around them. “You both know me better than they do at this point. Thanks for helping.” I screwed the lid back on the jar of ointment. Catherine reached for my right leg to begin winding me into fresh wraps. They were both silent for a long moment.

Elizabeth poured another drink and contemplated, “You and Marco were married. How could he not –”

“I wasn’t burnt then. Didn’t happen until semi recently…sort of. He wasn’t a part of my life then. That was Graham’s time. Graham knew. He was wonderful.” As I mulled over the constant problem of how it would come about that we’d get in his bed and under his sheets, I simply figured I’d keep the wraps on like I had with Jae.

It wasn’t a problem now though. He wasn’t asking for anything and the space and patience felt like safety. We were who we were to each other. And suppose he saw me, all of me, and he walked away again…

“Perhaps it’s not my place to say so, though I would wager Marco would be just as wonderful.” Catherine pinned the wraps in place and between the two of them, they finished dressing me.

“Maybe someday. Not today. Today, I’m thankful to have you both.” Even if it was just for this moment, getting them off that island was worth it. Catherine and Marco would do well together in Italy. I tried to pour myself a measure of whiskey but Elizabeth was too fast.

“Isabelle –” Catherine started.

“My sister has enough to occupy her. I like this outfit. Thank you.” Damn Elizabeth, she handed the bottle off to Catherine who stuck it in the basket of my wet and dirty clothing and wraps.

“Elizabeth, can you do her hair? I’m going to take these items for laundering,” Catherine said, then absconded with the alcohol.

“You don’t have to do my hair, I’ll be fine.”

“Sit,” Elizabeth ordered. I sat. “We should be good to try a test sail soon if you’re able. Does Zheng have any ports or cargo ready?”

“Zheng isn’t doing anything without Fountain. Mo is coming soon too. Then this whole place will be useless for a week.” I drank my stupid water. By now Catherine had likely given the bottle to Zheng.

“I remember.” She laughed and started pulling the brush through my hair, finding each and every tangle. “Think he’ll remember me?”

“Of course he will.” Never forgets a damn thing, the ass. I missed him.

She continued brushing till she reached the center part on my hair. There she felt the cold circle of stone embedded just below my scalp. That spot that was always cold to the touch.

“Do you think he’ll ask me to go to the temple again?” She paused her brushing.

“Do you want to go?” I twisted in my seat and took the brush from her. I motioned for her to sit. We’d had this discussion the first time he’d asked her. That had been years ago. I often wondered if she’d remembered his invitation.

“I’m still not sure. You’d really go with me if I say yes?” she asked. She looked at me just as she had during that wagon ride out of St. George’s.

I put my hand under her chin and lifted her eyes to mine. “I’d sail you there myself.”

Tension broke through the features of my first mate, my crew. Sure, we might argue and we might be displeased with each other but we sailed together and that was sacred. She knew it too.

“Not yet,” she decided.

“Good answer. Now let’s go eat.”

Elizabeth hoisted me out of my chair and helped me up the steps. I dreamed of the day when getting on my feet wasn’t a whole song and dance. She helped me up and we walked across the beach to the hearth where the smell of delicious cooked fish and Izzy’s other preparations were wafting across the compound. Izzy was nowhere in sight yet. Judging by the anxious looks from her servants, they must be anticipating her arrival soon.

“Well, don’t you look nice.” Marco pulled me over to the finished fish. “You’re missing something though.” He produced Izzy’s flower crown and placed it on my head. “There. Now you’re perfect.” He arranged the flowers on my hair and kissed my cheek.

“Brazen,” I chided him. I didn’t let him move away.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he stayed close and I wished the butterflies in my stomach would calm down. “Don’t you dare take it off either.”

“I look ridiculous.” Somehow my hand had ended up in his.

“No, you don’t.” He grinned.

“Yes, she does.” Zheng barged through and pulled me away, the sharp torque sent a spasm through my chest killing all the butterflies. She was a delight. “We need to chat. Sit down.”

Zheng ordered her people about and a platter of fish and other dishes were put in front of us. Zheng pulled out the whiskey bottle Catherine had stolen from me earlier on the ship. She poured us each a small measure and sent the bottle off with her servants. It was sure to disappear within the hour. Marco started eating my fried rice. I let him have some of it but I fended him off from my portion of flakey fish.

“Your sister is causing me problems,” Zheng started. “She’s been around all day, talking with captains, trying to negotiate with my people for goods. They come to me next begging for forgiveness or permission to finalize the transactions. It’s not a good look. They don’t know who’s goods she is trying to fund the deals with.”

“What is she using? Her gowns? That would fetch some quality cargo.” I was surprised and somewhat relieved to hear that she’d been putting forth the effort to prepare her ships. Though, why she was trying to do it without my help stung.

Zheng scoffed and took a sip. “I don’t give a shit what she’s using. She’s causing an issue with my people. Making them skittish. That’ll break down a camp fast if it isn’t checked.”

Zheng was sensitive to the temperament of her camps. She was a woman operating on the loyalty of hungry people sleeping in tents. Hungry and angry people started talking. Hungry and angry and scared people started uprisings. Hungry and angry and scared and motivated people started revolutions.

“She was buying stuff before. What’s the difference?” I grumbled. My whiskey wasn’t nearly strong enough to handle this conversation. Even for a demigod this portion was small.

“That was your money. They all knew it,” Marco added.

“That girl and her ‘business partners’ aren’t going to make it past Jakarta without help. Serious help. Your help. Armand is spinning them tales of making it to Madagascar.”

“Maybe he did?” It was possible. Not likely, but possible.

“You want to put money on that?” She smirked.

I shook my head and cracked a smile too. “I do not.”

There was no reason for any of these captains and merchants to make a journey that far. The ports here were well stocked enough to keep anyone fat, happy, and rich. Long journeys were dangerous and ultimately unprofitable when you sat down and calculated out the profit and loss statements on what you spent getting there and getting back.

Crazy white people and their crazy penchant for waiting to see if the roaring and stomping and hissing is really a monster or not before running, were the ones boarding ships and heading into the unknown. The East India Companies capitalized on that and were able to mass market and traffic enough products to create a successful business model other nations would follow right into the age of colonization and exploitation.

“I don’t think Annie should involve herself if she doesn’t want to,” Marco spoke up in a surprisingly stern tone. When I looked at him for an explanation, he didn’t meet my eye.

“She already is involved,” Zheng argued. “Because if that girl sets sail,” Zheng pointed to Izzy who’d just rode up and started petting her goat, “the Try Your Luck is sailing in her shadow and we all know it.”

I focused on my small drink. I wasn’t going to England. I wasn’t. I was not going to sail my sister to her grave. Right now she was explaining in heavily accented Cantonese about how pretty the goat she got from Greenland looked and then exclaiming to Amir in Spanish about the nice dye job achieved on the ribbon. I still couldn’t believe she was willing to leave this to go to England. I shivered at the thought.

“I'm sorry for being late. Glad to see you're all already eating though,” Izzy said as she left her goat and went to check her dutch ovens. Someone handed her a large plate. She cornered the attendant to lecture them on the ingredients and preparations.

Zheng, Marco, and I waved back, watching the show.

“And if that girl dies,” Zheng resumed in a hushed tone, “or, far more likely, is sold to some sultan with a big appetite, how do you think ‘Annie’ here is going to handle that?”

This bitch. “Don’t –”

“Shut up.” Zheng glared at me. “What I want is for her to go to England and get laid, and you and I go to Japan and get rich. And who knows, maybe that’ll happen.” She drank. It sounded similar to saying, who knows, this time I might win the lottery.

I drank.

Marco did too.

“Guess where I’m putting my money down on that bet? How about you Marco?” Zheng asked.

Marco refused to comment. He sat stiffly at my side.

“Let me send word around that this voyage is endorsed by you,” Zheng asked.

Endorsed. I did not like that. It implied I blessed this voyage and how would my mother feel about that? I aided and abetted my sister’s sail into doom. I rubbed my temples and brushed away the flowers from the crown. I forgot I still had that thing on.

“You can say no,” Marco whispered in Hurrian to me.

“You taught me Hurrian too, dummies,” Zheng scoffed, her Hurrian perfect. Marco matched her glare for glare.

Zheng was right. Better she not die of starvation before Jakarta. At least I’d be able to tell Vivienne that. 

“Send the word out. I’ll back her trades. And tell Armand to shut the fuck up.” I finished my drink.

“Deal.” Zheng took my empty cup and left. Her people waited just beyond the periphery for her to confirm arrangements.

They’d go back to Izzy and her partners soon and say things like, “I have now considered your deal and would like to accept” and “It would be a pleasure to do business with you” or “I was hasty in refusing you this morning. Come, let us share a drink and toast to a deal well made.” Already I saw various lackeys making their approach to her with smiles on their faces.

Marco picked up his own plate and started eating. He didn’t speak.

“You’re upset.” I put my plate aside and turned to him.

He drank his whiskey and didn’t answer.

“Please don’t be upset,” I whispered. We’d had such a nice day…at least I’d thought so.

“I want a berth on your ship,” he suddenly spoke. He didn’t look at me though, his eyes were on the Try Your Luck. 

“When you leave, I want to be on the deck of the Try Your Luck, helping you raise the sails.”

Of course. He’d said he wasn’t asking for anything? I was an ass. No one is ever not asking for something. He was being friendly because, just like Izzy, he needed a ticket out of here. My heart broke a little. When he’d kissed my cheek tonight I’d thought…maybe, maybe we could think about this. But people liked me for what I could do for them. That’s all.

“No men on my ship,” I answered.

Marco stood, turned to me like he had something to say, then turned again and left.

I put my plate aside and put my head in my hands. The flower crown shifted on my hair and I pulled it off. I felt as stupid as I looked. I was playing dress-up. Marco and I had been dressing up as the people we’d once been to each other. All just make-believe. We had real life to find our way back to after this.

Despite it being early, I took myself to bed. If most of my bedding wasn’t here, I’d go sleep on my ship. It wasn’t worth carrying the blankets and pillows across the compound like a toddler throwing a tantrum and threatening to run away.

My bed looked big…too big for one person. I put the flower crown down on the side table and busied myself with nighttime preparations. I needed to stop expecting him to come through the door. This was too dangerous a game he and I were playing. Marco was here now. He wanted to stay with me now. But when the waters stirred and muddied he went off in search of fair weather. I was a hurricane.

I got in bed without him.

The compound was still bustling and noisy and sleep didn’t come. It was times like this I missed having a book or cooking tv show to lull me to sleep. He and I usually talked across our pillows about our days. I liked having him back in bed with me but this was better. It was better to know what he wanted now.

It would be better for them all when –

Don’t start. You’re just sad. You’re just tired.

I wanted them to want me around. Was that so wrong? Was that too much to hope for? To want to be valued for who I was instead of what I could do? Instead of being able to make them money, or travel the portal and fight, or know the seas well enough to provide safe travel to England, or be a person he would want to share a bed with simply because he liked being next to me too…

Might as well write a letter to Santa Claus.

I couldn’t hold onto anyone. I’d had to leave everyone in Bermuda. Maui left. Marco wanted out. Izzy would be gone soon. Elizabeth was only staying on with me because I paid her an ungodly high salary. Eventually she’d die too. No one stayed.

Go to sleep.

No.

I must have fallen asleep though because I startled out of a dream where Maui was sitting in my old therapist’s chair watching me trying to fall asleep on a hard couch and making notes on a legal pad. Marco moved around the tent and washed and readied for bed. I pretended to be asleep. I’d talked enough today. I relaxed knowing he was here but sternly reminded myself it was a temporary arrangement. No one makes a home inside a hurricane.

Marco hesitated a moment then climbed under the covers. His added warmth was a comfort I wasn’t prepared to fight tonight. His hand touched my shoulder and then traveled down my arm till his fingers intertwined with mine.

“Annie?” he whispered. “Turn around?”

I turned. He arranged one arm under my head, with his other he smoothed the hair from my forehead, traced down my cheek, my neck. I gasped as his fingers stroked slowly over my chest then settled at my hip. He pulled me tight against him. This was dangerous. I should stop him. I could feel every inch of his body against mine and I could feel how he wanted me. He was hard.

I pressed my forehead hard against his. I wanted him. I wanted him to stay. I wanted all of him. His lips were close. We should be kissing right now. I moved my leg over him and trapped him against me. He was breathing hard too.

“Tell me you’re thinking about it. At least tell me you’re thinking about it,” he gasped in ragged breaths.

“Of course I am.” How could I not be? I held his face close to mine.

“I won’t rush you. That was wrong of me to ask you that tonight. I did not hear myself in your plans and accounting and – you have me. Do you know that?”

“No.” I didn’t have him. I couldn’t have him. I had him. Past tense. Now? No one knew their own future, not even me.

“Then patience. A little patience. Please?” He brought his hand back to my cheek. He watched me, waiting to see if I could give him more of my time.

“Of course,” I answered. I didn’t want him going anywhere yet either.

He kissed my forehead and relaxed back. For tonight, we believed each other, we believed the other was here and wanted to stay here. It was the greatest bedtime story ever told.

I stayed close to his side and he rubbed my back till we fell asleep. There were always the idiots who refused to evacuate when a hurricane came rolling in.

****

I was sitting in the galley with Catherine. Graham sat in the corner watching, waiting for her to finish. She was helping me with the ointment and wraps. The dream was a replay from this afternoon and it was stuck on this one moment. A hurricane blew outside the portholes.

“Not that I mind of course, but wouldn’t you prefer to have Marco help you?” the young woman asked. Graham said nothing, just listened. We kept talking but she kept coming around to this question. Why her? Why didn’t I let Marco close? Everyone was waiting. Everyone thought we were being ridiculous.

“He’s never seen the scars,” I said, breaking the cycle.

“He must have. He’s your husband.” They all said that too.

“Maybe once. Then he left. Can you blame him?” I ran my hands over the scars.

“Marco wouldn’t leave you.” Catherine insisted. They all said this too.

“He asked me for something once and I shot him for it.”

“That wasn’t very nice,” Catherine chided me.

“No,” I agreed.

“He’s here now.”

“For now.”

“That must mean something.”

“It means he’s here now.”

“I’d have taken any time with you at all, Nan,” Graham whispered. Then the hurricane grew too loud and too big and blew through the windows.

****

I startled awake, ready to seek shelter from the storm. My tent was dark and quiet and still. Marco slept deep and steady next to me. I lightly traced the scar that ran along the hairline on his forehead, stretched across his temple, and disappeared into his dark, loose curls. He hadn’t asked me for anything much after that day, just a ride every now and then. I’d refused him.

Tell me you’re thinking about it. At least tell me you’re thinking about it.

Yes, I am thinking about letting you sail with me.

Last I saw you, you were in my bed, under my sheets.

That was in England. I wasn’t going to England. Was he? Maybe he was going to England with Izzy and I was going to Italy with Catherine. Although…if I wanted to ensure Izzy’s safety, Marco is not the person to see she sailed there safely. Lost more boats than wives…

I settled back against him. Patience. We had time. We had all the time.