Venture to Uncertainty (#1)

14 | The Distraction of Uncertainty

For the last hour, Archer had embarked on a raging internal argument to either go to sleep, or to march down the hall to Silta's room. To do what, he wasn't quite sure, but he'd been bouncing back and forth between the two options until he felt like he had a glass ball rattling around in his head.

He sat in his room, occasionally moving from the bed to the table in the corner. Tanner, who was reading something on his top bunk, asked him multiple times why he was so agitated, but Archer ignored him every instance.

He got up off the bed and leaned against the table again. To keep moving was to keep distracted, to forget how close he'd been to her, to forget the smell of salt and the feeling of her sharp nails. If he forgot how it felt, he wouldn't start imagining what it could've been like.

Archer let out an annoyed groan. Tanner gave him a look but said nothing.

She was there down the hall; he knew it. He'd heard her soft footsteps disappear into the corner room about an hour ago. If only he could just make it through this night, maybe tomorrow her words wouldn't feel so fresh.

Figure out what you want—but what conclusion did she want him to come to? Was she playing him like he'd been doing to her either? He'd admittedly done a rather pitiful job. Was this payback, or what this some other plan she'd concocted?

Or was this just what she wanted?

Archer groaned again, his head to the ceiling. Things like this had never been confusing to him before. He was respectful and bold. Everyone usually liked him. Everyone normal.

"What is up with you?" Kip asked.

Archer gave the dud a look. He didn't answer.

This feeling wasn't going away. He needed to talk to her. Yes, talk. That was all he'd do. He'd go to her, and he'd figure out what page she was on. He strode to the door and pushed it open.

"Where are you going?"

It was Tanner's voice that pulled him out of his trance. He slammed the door in front of him and turned to his roommate. How close he had been to giving in startled him.

"Kip, I don't know you all that well. Tell me something about yourself." He needed to be distracted. If Silta was pulling him with some sort of Siren magic, he needed to reoccupy his mind.

Tanner offered him a bewildered look. "You're odd, Kingsley."

"I'm going through something. Where did you grow up?"

Tanner shifted. "A pirate ship," he said. "The Firlirn."

Archer frowned. "The Forlorn?"

"No, different ship."

"Oh," Archer said. So he had a boring roommate. The angels were really not on his side today.

"And you?" Tanner asked, if only to be polite. The dud was quite polite for a pirate, and quite a dud for someone who grew up in piracy—but some people never got their sea legs, no matter how hard they worked for it.

"I grew up on Orphano," Archer said.

"Right. I knew that."

"Right."

"So...What is it that you're going through?" Tanner asked very slowly, once again if only to be polite.

Archer glanced up. "Women."

Tanner laughed at that. He had a funny smile, with sharp teeth. They didn't look damaging at all, though, in fact, they looked kind. Trusting.

"You do realize there are only three women on this ship," Tanner said, turning back to his reading, "so you might've just told me more than you should've."