Venture to Uncertainty (#1)

28 | The Shock of Uncertainty

Miller is an excellent doctor. Miller is an excellent doctor. Miller is an excellent doctor.

Those logical words calmed him when nothing else would. He sat next to Lyra, back to the rail, waiting for word like the rest of the crew.

"She'll be fine," Lyra muttered. She wasn't speaking to Archer—or anybody else, for that matter. It seemed the whole crew was in their own little world, all terrified to lose their most prized possession.

It angered him. They weren't worried about Silta, they were worried about their champion, their brilliant strategist. They were worried about the consequences of her death on Bardarian, on their hierarchy. They could pretend there were other reasons for the fame of their ship, but the truth remained that the daughter of the King was the real reason the Avourienne was anything at all.

They didn't fear the loss of her, not like he did. They didn't agonize over the quick wit, the quiet lover, the cunning mind. It infuriated him, made him intent on stealing Silta away once she was healed and dragging her off to some world where she would be more than a pretty face and a means to gain power.

He was angry about it, but perhaps he was wrong to be. Perhaps he was wrong in the first place. After all, Lyra was the most white-faced out of everyone; she would still be in Port Kiver if it weren't for Silta. Britter would be without his best friend, Rusher without his verbally abusive sparing partner.

The door to the navigation room opened, and Bardarian stood at the doorway. His face was ashy, but his voice was calm, "The blood." He gestured to the deck. "If it's not cleaned, it'll stain." He headed to the balcony steps, moved up to his quarters.

Nobody moved. Archer definitely didn't.

They stayed there for a long time. They watched the sky break open and pour water from the clouds, washing away the blood, swirling it with water. A few of the crew left their unspoken vigil as the hours passed.

It must've been close to midnight when Britter came out of the navigation room and pointed at Archer.

"Get over here, Kingsley," he said.

He obeyed quickly, making his way over. Britter lowered his voice to a whisper so the rest of the crew couldn't hear, "Do you know who she was talking about?" he asked.

"No clue," he replied.

"Do you think she'll tell you?"

He didn't think she would. If she wasn't going to tell Britter or Bardarian, then she wouldn't tell Archer either. Still, he wanted in the room now that Bardarian was gone.

"I don't know," he answered. "She's still not telling anyone?"

"No," Britter said. "She's all loopy from the drugs that Miller gave her, if you can believe she can get even more psycho than she was."

That was hard to believe.

"We're thinking if she's going to tell, it's going to be now. Once she's lucid again, she definitely won't tell. She'll run around all of us with those damn mind games."

"I can try," he offered.

"Okay Kingsley," Britter said. "Let's hope she likes you more than she did us."

Archer pushed open the door, leaving Britter outside. Miller was still moving around, propping up Silta's head. She looked up at Archer when he entered.

"She's absolutely off her nut right now, Archer," the doctor said. "But try your best." She left out of the front door, leaving him alone.

"You know, she really does think that," Silta offered, arms and neck covered with gauze. She laughed. "There's that look in her eye—you get it. It's how you know someone's telling the truth. Angels, you're shaking, Minnow. You think I'm going to hit you, do you?"