Ship of Magic

Page 142

He was stupid enough to think she had to obey him. Even when she knew better, even when he was not around to oppose her. Realizing this was like opening her eyes to the sun's rising. How had it never occurred to her before?

Perhaps Kyle sensed that he had pushed her a bit too far. He rolled towards her, reached out across the glacial sheets to touch her shoulder. “Come here,” he bade her in a comforting voice. “Don't be sulky. Not on my last night at home. Trust me. If all goes as it should on this voyage, I'll be able to stay home for a while next time we dock. I'll be here, to take all this off your shoulders. Malta, Selden, the ship, the holdings . . . I'll put all in order and run them as they should always have been run. You have always been shy and backward. . . . I should not say that to you as if it were a thing you could change in yourself. I just want to let you know that I know how hard you have tried to manage things in spite of that. If anyone is at fault, it is I, to have let these concerns have been your task all these years. ”

Numbed, she let him draw her near to him, let him settle against her to sleep. What had been his warmth was suddenly a burdensome weight against her. The promises he had just made to reassure her instead echoed in her mind like a threat.

Ronica Vestrit opened her eyes to the shadowy bedroom. Her window was open, the gauzy drapes moving softly with the night wind. I sleep like an old woman now, she thought to herself. In fits and starts. It isn't sleeping and it isn't waking and it isn't rest. She let her eyes close again. Maybe it was from all those months spent by Ephron's bedside, when she didn't dare sleep too deeply, when if he stirred at all she was instantly alert. Maybe, as the empty lonely months passed, she'd be able to unlearn it and sleep deep and sound again. Somehow she doubted it.

“Mother. ”

A whisper light as a wraith's sigh. “Yes, dear. Mother's here. ” Ronica replied to it as quietly. She did not open her eyes. She knew these voices, had known them for years. Her little sons still sometimes came, to call to her in the darkness. Painful as such fancies were, she would not open her eyes and disperse them. One held on to what comforts one had, even if they had sharp edges.

“Mother, I've come to ask your help. ”

Ronica opened her eyes slowly. “Althea?” she whispered to the darkness. Was there a figure just outside the window, behind the blowing curtains. Or was this just another of her night fancies?

A hand reached to pull the curtain out of the way. Althea leaned in on the sill.

“Oh, thank Sa you're safe!”

Ronica rolled hastily from her bed, but as she stood up, Althea retreated from the window. “If you call Kyle, I'll never come back again,” she warned her mother in a low, rough voice.

Ronica came to the window. “I wasn't even thinking of calling Kyle,” she said softly. “Come back. We have to talk. Everything's gone wrong. Nothing's turned out the way it was supposed to. ”

“That's hardly news,” Althea muttered darkly. She ventured closer to the window. Ronica met her gaze, and for an instant she looked down into naked hurt. Then Althea looked away from her. “Mother . . . maybe I'm a fool to ask this. But I have to, I have to know before I begin. Do you recall what Kyle said, when . . . the last time we were all together?” Her daughter's voice was strangely urgent.

Ronica sighed heavily. “Kyle said a great many things. Most of which I wish I could forget, but they seem graven in my memory. Which one are you talking about?”

“He swore by Sa that if even one reputable captain would vouch for my competency, he'd give my ship back to me. Do you remember that he said that?”

“I do,” Ronica admitted. “But I doubt that he meant it. It's just his way, to throw such things about when he is angry. ”

“But you do remember him saying it?” Althea pressed.

“Yes. Yes, I remember he said that. Althea, we have much more important things to discuss than this. Please. Come in. Come back home, we need to . . . ”

“No. Nothing is more important than what I just asked you. Mother, I've never known you to lie. Not when it was important. The time will come when I'll be counting on you to tell the truth. ” Incredibly, her daughter was walking away, speaking over her shoulder as she went. For one frightening instant, she looked so like her father as a young man. She wore the striped shirt and black trousers of a sailor on shore. She even walked as he had, that roll to her gait, and the long dark queue of hair down her back.

“Wait!” Ronica called to her. She sat down on the windowsill and swung her legs over it. “Althea, wait!” she cried out, and jumped down into the garden. She landed badly, her bare feet protesting the rocky walk under her window. She nearly fell, but managed to catch herself. She hastened across a sward of green to the thick laurel hedge that bounded it. But when she reached it, Althea was already gone. Ronica set her hands to that dense, leafy barrier and tried to push through it. It yielded, but only a little and scratchily. The leaves were wet with dew.