Princess of Ice
Trevain did not know whether he wanted to go out to sea because he was hoping to find Aazuria, or because he was hoping to find Atargatis. He just knew that it was the only possible option for him. It was the only thing he knew how to do remotely correctly. And if they lost another man? He did not mind as long as he was the man.
He had called up his crew, and no one had agreed with his idea. “It’s the last fishing week of the season,” he had coaxed, “we won’t get to fish again for months.” He had pulled every string, called in every favor, and begged for them to assemble. He needed this.
Now, as they all stood on the docks, the hesitation hung in the air like a foul stench. Everyone looked as though Trevain had asked them to step into the waiting jaws of a hungry creature known to chomp down mercilessly.
“I don’t know if I’m really in the mood,” Doughlas said.
“It’s not sex,” Trevain said harshly. “It’s work.”
“Are you sure about this, Cap’n?” Ujarak asked, chomping on his cigar more uneasily than ever before.
Trevain turned on his men angrily. “I gave you all what you asked for! I let you take my boat and fish. And now my brother’s gone. You convinced me again! Arnav was killed. This time I want to go out and catch crabs, just to relieve stress because I’ve lost everything. I lost Callder, my mother, and my fiancée. I don’t have anything left. So give me this.”
“What happened to Mrs. Murphy?” Edwin asked with concern.
“She escaped from the psychiatric hospital,” Trevain answered bitterly. “She’s as good as dead.”
Brynne recognized this destructive behavior as more characteristic of Callder than of his older brother. She felt extremely jittery about this emergency fishing trip; it was evident that something was about to go horribly wrong. It always did lately. Going out to sea was inviting Death over for supper and expecting her not to feast on the other dinner guests. Now, with three empty place settings at the table, Brynne felt foolish about having a dinner party at all—but her captain had polished up the utensils, and Death remained on the guest list. Brynne wanted to hit him.
Nevertheless, it was true that they all owed it to Trevain to be there for him. She knew from Mr. Fiskel that he had also recently sustained a serious injury to his arm. It never snows, she thought to herself.
When all the men walked off muttering to prepare the boat, Brynne approached Trevain privately. “For what it’s worth, Captain,” Brynne said, putting a hand on his back and speaking to him gently, “I think that Aazuria was a lunatic to let you go.”
He stood on the dock, staring out at the water vacantly. “I was really hostile to her, Brynne. I said some awful things. I was even rough with her.” He rubbed his arm absent-mindedly.
“No way! I don’t believe that,” Brynne said with a frown. “You’re the kindest guy I know. You don’t have a mean bone in your body.”
“Apparently I do,” he said wretchedly. “I’m not this great person everyone thinks I am. I’m just a brainless fuck-up like any other guy.”
He walked away. Brynne sighed and glanced after his retreating form. She sat down on the edge of the docks and dangled her feet off the side. She had never seen the reliable and mature Trevain act this way. She supposed that love and loss could turn even the most solid fortress into pudding. She could feel that he was heartbroken. She could also feel that he was hoping to join his brother.
Brynne pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging her calves and resting her chin on her kneecaps. She could not say that she did not understand the way Trevain felt. Since Callder had died, she had often entertained such thoughts. She had often wished that she could go off to sea, and be part of some “accidental” accident. She had never realized what a huge part of her life Callder had been until he was gone. She had always pushed him away and pretended she had not needed him, and she had done so knowing that he would be there smiling at her the next day. She had wasted so much time that she could have spent with him, and now she was suffering for it with no end in sight.
She could see in Trevain’s eyes that he felt the same way; perhaps even worse. She vowed to herself that she would keep an eye on him closely on the fishing trip; she would not allow anything to happen to him. He would never leave her watchful care. She almost did not care what happened to anyone else, but she knew she owed it to Callder to take care of Trevain. Brynne hugged her knees tighter as she gazed out at the water. She wondered how she could never tire of looking at the sea.
“Hey, sweet pea,” came a caring female voice. “I heard about what happened on your boat a while back.”
Brynne was about to snap at the woman for calling her “sweet pea” but then she relented. It was rare to see another woman on the docks. It was also nice to hear a kindly voice and see a vaguely familiar face. She was not sure who the woman was, but she thought she recognized her, possibly from a local bar. “Yeah. We haven’t been out to sea since then. We lost three men this year—is that crazy or what? One of them was my ex-boyfriend.”
“It’s been a bad season, love. I’m so sorry for your loss.” The blonde woman sighed. “Did you know two boats have disappeared completely? What horrible luck. I pray for my husband like three times a day when he’s fishing. It’s so dangerous out there. Is there anything I can do?”
“Nah,” said Brynne, waving her hand dismally. “Unless you’ve got a time machine.”
“Sorry, sweet pea. Haven’t got one of those.” The woman managed a small smile. “I do have some extra rice and beans though. I was just down here delivering some food to my husband’s boat. I swear, if I didn’t do something about it, these men would live on potato chips.”
Brynne laughed at that. “God, I know what you mean! Sure, I’ll take whatever you’ve got. I’ve been in kind of a crappy mood and have slacked off on the grocery shopping.”
“I’ll be right back, sweet pea—let me just grab some stuff from the trunk.”
Brynne smiled at the woman’s generosity. Sometimes the kindness of a stranger was all one needed to lift their spirits and brighten their day.
Chapter 35: Murder in the Mausoleum