An Ocean of Lies (AFOS II)

Chapter 12: Jo

Seeing Alaric like that, so helpless, was bringing bad memories to her. The Faradian Forest still loomed over her head, reminding her of all she could lose, of what it felt like to have lost it all for a moment. She couldn't risk losing again, she didn't want to. Jo paced around the room, trying to calm down. Deep breaths.

Alaric was strong, and that was part of the problem. He had crushed a glass of water without meaning to, his skin was now thicker, somehow, it healed faster. Like her own. She looked at her tattoos, dancing under her skin. That trip had changed her, she still didn't know how deep inside. Her mind, at least, felt a little clearer. She still felt like something was missing in her memories, like things weren't quite right up there, but whatever it was, it would have to wait. Alaric was suffering, she wanted to help. Her memories didn't matter, at the moment, they wouldn't matter if she died. If they all died. The ship was probably going to sink, because that was their luck, of course everything had to go wrong somehow. Things could always get worse, but she didn't dare to say that to herself, she didn't really want to think about it. Worrying about things she didn't know was pointless. She needed to fix things, quick. She had to decide.

Roisin had given them time to think: press on, and risk crossing the Ethereal Basin during the day, when monsters weren't active but other pirate ships, Skaldjaar, or even the Armada, could see them. Without the invisibility wards, and the fog clearing up in the surface, they were an easy target. Jo swallowed, hard. She bit her lips. The other option had been going back to Ontur, maybe to Fonterra to regroup and fix whatever was wrong with the vessel. But they were disguised as a fonterran merchant ship, and they weren't exactly good at pretending to be fonterran: neither the ship nor the crew. She'd heard their fake accents, they were better pirates than actors, really. The ship was too shabby, at least on the outside— good enough to fool untrained Onturian port authorities, but they'd be cannon fodder before even seeing the shore of the main port of the Kingdom of Fonterra. They knew their ships and they prided themselves on having the most powerful looking glass in the Fog Ocean, perched atop their highest lighthouse. A third option, her favorite so far, was to find a nearby island, set anchor and try to fix the ship. The Fog Ocean was mostly uncharted and its waters changed constantly. Sometimes thick fog, unbreathable, covered the islands. But it was better than going back to Ontur, they'd gone too far to go back. Besides, the Onturian Knights were probably looking for Alaric all over the city, if not for being who he was, the heir to the throne— which still sounded ridiculous when she said it— for blowing up the Onturian enclave's dungeons. Not a small feat. They surely suspected he'd had some outside help, maybe they knew about her and Laurentius. Maybe his boyfriend ratted them out, after all. They couldn't go back to that uncertainty.

Alaric sweated, rubbing his temples, his arms, staring at his hands. Jo sat next to him, holding him tight. Maybe she could do something about it. It was a long shot, she didn't really understand how it worked, but it was within her, maybe she could learn how to control it. She closed her eyes, she could feel the magic draining from his veins, into her body. A blissful sensation, not as earthshattering as channeling the Core Silvam had been, but wonderful. She jumped back, she stopped. She couldn't do it. What if she drained too much? What if she couldn't stop? She could kill him or worse, turn him into an empty husk.

"Why did you stop? Did it hurt you? Are you alright? Let me see," Alaric knew what she was doing. His eyes looked clearer, his muscles relaxed. He stood up from the bed, tried to reach her.

"I'm not sure I can do it," she muttered. "I was experimenting, creators, I sound like Laurentius," she chuckled.

"Well, at least you're prettier than him," he teased.

"Of course I am," she put a hand on her hip, pouting, she hoped, seductively. "I wish I were smarter too," she sighed, throwing herself on a chair next to the bureau. She picked up the book she'd been reading, ran her finger through its pages.