When El-i-miir woke up, the boat was surprisingly still and lacked the commotion usually heard from above. Seteal was sleeping in the lower bunk. Her breathing was slow and deep. The small mirror across the room revealed darkness beneath El-i-miir’s eyes and she put a hand to her mouth as memories of the previous day came back to her.

  After getting dressed and applying her makeup, El-i-miir made her way over to the door and began to pull it open, but stopped sharply and closed it again. Something was wrong. El-i-miir turned in a slow circle at the centre of the room.

  ‘Seteal,’ she whispered, her eyes widening in disbelief.

  El-i-miir clutched her stomach, terror causing her heart to beat rapidly. Seteal’s aura was gone. There were only two situations in which a person’s aura vanished completely. And that was in death, or if they became a seeol.

  ‘Seteal,’ El-i-miir rushed over and shook the woman. She was breathing. She had a pulse. Physically, she looked alive, but her spirit was gone. ‘Wake up!’

  ‘Leave me alone.’ The woman’s lips moved slowly, her voice barely audible. As she spoke patches of her aura flared in and out of existence.

  ‘Seteal!’ El-i-miir cried, fearing the consequences should something happen under her watch. ‘You need to wake up right now.’ She was flooded with relief when Seteal’s aura popped vibrantly and entirely into existence.

  ‘Get off me.’ Seteal’s eyes burst open and she pushed El-i-miir away. ‘I told you to leave me alone.’

  ‘Your aura was gone.’

  ‘What?’ Seteal asked in confusion as she slid off the bed and straightened her dress. In fact, she was fully dressed, which seemed odd.

  ‘Your aura,’ El-i-miir repeated. ‘It was gone.’

  ‘Well, that doesn’t mean a lot to me, now does it?’ Seteal put her hands on her hips. ‘I can’t see them, remember?’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ El-i-miir said worriedly. ‘Only dead people don’t have auras. Well . . . them and Seeol.’

  Seteal’s expression remained blank, before finally she shook her head and rolled her eyes. ‘Just stay away from me. I know what I’m doing, okay?’

  ‘I don’t think you do.’ El-i-miir gripped Seteal’s arm. ‘I’ve been doing this for a long time and I recognise danger when I see it. If you want to meddle with dangerous parts of the Ways, do it around someone else. I’m not going to have to answer to Far-a-mael should you get yourself killed.’

  ‘Fine.’ Seteal shook free of El-i-miir’s grip. ‘I’ll stay away from you, if you stay away from me.’ She headed toward the door before turning back sharply. ‘And try to mind your own business, all right?’ The woman disappeared, leaving the door ajar as she went.

  El-i-miir sat down and exhaled slowly. She was surrounded by people, but felt so alone. She imagined life had she gone to the University of the Sixth Cleff with her friends. It was a good school with a world-renowned Jilt’lesit degree. She’d be able to stay with her parents on weekends and tell her sisters about her day. Instead, she had been traipsed around the world with an evil old man who’d stop at nothing to reach his insane goals.

  ‘Hello, cutie,’ Seeol croaked, his tiny, feathery head popping around the door. ‘You’re looking sadder than ever.’ He scrabbled across the floor and stood at the toe of El-i-miir’s boot.

  ‘I am, a little.’ El-i-miir stared into the owl’s penetrating golden eyes.

  ‘You’re a good girl.’ Seeol bobbed his head. ‘Seteal is very angry all the time. Don’t worry. She has had horrible stuff to deal with. You are lovely so don’t be sadness. And your hair is silky nice.’

  ‘Thanks, Seeol.’ El-i-miir laughed, only to realise that she hadn’t done so in a very long time. ‘Oh, Seeol,’ she said softly, making her way over to a small circular window by the bed. ‘Have you ever imagined what it must be like for someone to love you . . . the real you? Can you imagine what such an embrace would mean?’ El-i-miir turned to face the owl’s blank expression. ‘No . . . of course not.’ She sighed. ‘I’m being silly. You’re just a little bird. No one would ever love you,’ she murmured thoughtlessly, before once again noting the profound emptiness on board. ‘You wouldn’t happen to know where everyone is, would you?’

  ‘They are on top of the town.’ Seeol’s head turned almost backward as he glanced out the door. ‘Soon we’ll be in the chilly woods and some people said to stop for supper . . . or supplies. Is it supplies?’

  ‘I think it probably would have been.’ El-i-miir nodded. ‘But the supplies might include supper.’

  ‘Glad that’s settled,’ Seeol mused.

  El-i-miir pressed her face against the window. There was a single jetty to which the boat was moored. Beyond that stood a small town nestled between two mountains. ‘Has Far-a-mael gone, too?’

  ‘I did seen him go,’ Seeol replied.

  ‘Finally.’ El-i-miir stood. ‘Some time alone.’ She made her way through the door and turned right, intending to go up on deck, but she stopped short and looked back down the corridor at the sound of voices floating up from the hold.

  ‘Please,’ Ilgrin begged. ‘I need water.’

  ‘Shut up, demon,’ a familiar voice retorted.

  ‘Maker damn it!’ Ilgrin cried. ‘Just a drop.’

  ‘Don’t you use the Lord’s name,’ the crewman snapped. ‘It’s blasphemy on your tongue.’

  ‘Walk away, El-i-miir,’ she whispered to herself. Obediently, she turned back toward the steps that led up onto deck. She put her hand on the railing and her foot on the step but there she remained.

  ‘Help him.’ Seeol’s voice bit at El-i-miir’s heart. The elf owl was the only other that believed in Ilgrin, and El-i-miir knew he’d go to any length to help the silt. But Seeol was so limited in what he could do. Perhaps she’d played the coward long enough.

  ‘I will.’ El-i-miir turned to face the bird, looking up at her from his place on the carpet. ‘I will help him.’

  The walk along the corridor took longer than it should have and the lanterns didn’t give off enough light, but eventually El-i-miir reached the spiral staircase and moved down into the hold. A crewman--Raeghan, if she remembered correctly--stood with his arms crossed before the cell door.

  ‘Can I help you, Rei El-i-miir?’ Raeghan asked.

  ‘Why haven’t you gotten off the boat with the others?’ she asked.

  ‘I wanted to.’ Raeghan looked disappointed. ‘But seeing as though the silt nearly escaped yesterday, Gil Far-a-mael wants a guard posted here at all times.’

  ‘Still, it seems a little unfair doesn’t it?’ El-i-miir headed across the room, examining Raeghan’s aura as she went. Within the lights that danced about him resided the secret to his departure. She siphoned through the colours of his aura until she found the ones that spelled out his weakness. The man liked cutting corners and had little integrity. Far-a-mael couldn’t have left a better guard. E-i-miir smiled. ‘Everyone else got to leave. Why not you?’

  ‘Well, it is a little unfair.’ Raeghan frowned. ‘But it’s captain’s orders. You know how it is.’

  ‘Well, I think you deserve the same treatment as everyone else,’ El-i-miir murmured, sinking tendrils of light into the man’s aura and pulling his indignation to the surface.

  ‘You’re right,’ Raeghan fumed. ‘Everyone else gets off of this Maker-damned boat and I’m left with a stinking demon.’

  ‘I know!’ El-i-miir pretended to have been struck by an idea. ‘Why don’t you go enjoy yourself and I’ll watch the silt.’

  ‘I don’t know about that, miss,’ Raeghan said uncertainly.

  ‘I don’t mind,’ El-i-miir insisted. ‘I’ve already been out for a walk.’ She pulled dangerously hard on Raeghan’s indignation and tied a knot in it to prevent it from sinking back into the depths of his aura. It would untangle eventually, but not for a good while. She then plunged streams of her own aura back into the glow to retrieve his desire and twist it aggressively. ‘What could possibly go wrong? Far-a-mael’s worrying about not
hing.’

  ‘You’re right.’ Raeghan smiled as El-i-miir tickled his sense of well-being. ‘I’ll just go for a quick stroll. What could happen?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing,’ El-i-miir replied as the man raced across the room and ran up the stairs two at a time.

  El-i-miir turned to where the horses were fed and filled a pitcher with water. When she returned, it dawned on her that she wouldn’t be able to fit the pitcher through the hatch.

  ‘Ilgrin?’

  ‘El-i-miir,’ the silt replied. ‘Please tell me you have water.’

  ‘I do,’ El-i-miir whispered, ‘but I can’t fit it through the hatch so I’m going to have to open the door. I need you to promise you won’t try to do what you did yesterday.’

  ‘I can’t,’ Ilgrin replied, laughing hoarsely. ‘They’ve chained me up properly this time.’

  ‘Okay.’ El-i-miir took several deep breaths. ‘I’m coming in,’ she whispered under her breath and turned the wheel. When the door opened, she was horrified to see the scope of damage Far-a-mael had inflicted.

  Although his wounded shoulder looked to be on the mend, Ilgrin was covered in blue welts and patches of dried blood covered his clothing. Cuffs bound his wrists tightly and chains were wrapped around his legs before being secured to the metal loops protruding from the wall where the bench had previously been attached. ‘Please,’ Ilgrin reached for the pitcher with both hands. El-i-miir did not hesitate in giving it to him.

  The silt put the pitcher to his chapped lips and drank greedily. El-i-miir leaned against the wall waiting patiently but soon found herself sliding down its length until she sat beside the silt. It was only once Ilgrin had finished drinking that he noticed El-i-miir sitting shoulder to shoulder beside him.

  ‘You’re not scared?’ he asked in confusion.

  ‘I never have been. Not really anyway,’ El-i-miir looked into Ilgrin’s eyes, her face less than a handswidth from his. ‘You’re not what they say you are, are you?’

  ‘A demon?’ Ilgrin said the word like he detested it.

  ‘A monster.’ El-i-miir looked away.

  ‘I’m not a monster.' Ilgrin sighed. ‘I’m just not human either.’

  ‘Perhaps not. But you are a man,’ El-i-miir said softly. ‘You’re not evil or bad. You’re not even a little bit wrong.’ She swallowed.

  ‘It means a lot for you to say that.’ Ilgrin seemed taken aback. ‘But you hardly know me.’

  ‘I don’t need to know you to know you,’ El-i-miir replied. ‘I’m a rei, remember.’

  ‘Then why can’t the others see it?’ Ilgrin’s voice was filled with sadness. ‘Why don’t they believe me?’

  ‘Well, you can’t blame Seteal,’ El-i-miir shook her head pityingly. ‘She’s only new to the Ways and Far-a-mael’s been editing her aura.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m not certain,’ El-i-miir replied, becoming distracted from her thoughts by the way Ilgrin stared at her. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Set me free,’ Ilgrin said, touching her arm.

  El-i-miir’s breath stuck in her throat. She looked down at his smooth-ended fingers as they traced along her flesh and curled around her hand. ‘I can’t,’ she replied, little above a whisper.

  ‘You gave me food when no one else would,’ Ilgrin said softly. ‘You gave me blankets those cold nights on the road. You brought me water when I thought I might die of thirst. You’ve believed in me when nobody else cared. Why, if only to watch them kill me when we reach the Frozen Lands?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ El-i-miir squeaked.

  ‘See, I think you do know,’ Ilgrin narrowed his eyes. ‘I think you’re happy to help me so long as it doesn’t inconvenience you. You don’t want them to kill me, but if you have to make any sacrifices . . . well, that’s another story.’

  ‘That’s not fair,’ El-i-miir snapped. She was tired of people passing judgement on her and wasn’t going to put up with it from Ilgrin. ‘You’re a silt. Think about that. I’ve spent my whole life under the impression that you’re all evil, slimy monsters. Of course, I see now that that’s not the case, but it takes more than two seconds to digest that sort of information. I’ll set you free when I’ve come up with the best possible way to go about it for the both of us, not because I’ve been bullied into it.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Ilgrin slumped over in defeat. ‘You’re right. I’m no one to pass judgement on you. Wait--’ His face lit up. ‘You said you’ll do it?’

  ‘I suppose I will.’ El-i-miir raised her eyebrows in surprise, but immediately felt certain of her decision. A weight had been lifted from her shoulders; the heavy burden she’d been carrying was gone. El-i-miir was going to do the right thing. She would not allow her people to kill an innocent man. ‘Listen here, Mister Geld.’ She took his hand. ‘I promise you I will help you escape, but you must trust me and be patient.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Ilgrin whispered. ‘I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you, but I’ll do whatever I can.’

  ‘You don’t need to repay me. I’m only doing what I should’ve done a long time ago,’ El-i-miir replied as she rose to her feet and backed out of the room. ‘For now I’ll try to distract Far-a-mael and keep him away from you. And you should try to be as compliant as possible.’

  Ilgrin nodded, an expression of elation filling his features as El-i-miir closed the door and spun the little green wheel. Despite herself, she felt her cheeks rise up into a smile that she couldn’t get rid of. It felt right, what she’d promised. It was dangerous, but for once she was putting her own fears aside and doing what was right. She made her way across the hold and reached the staircase as Raeghan hurried down toward her.

  ‘Raeghan?’ El-i-miir said in surprise.

  ‘I’m sorry, El-i-miir.’ Raeghan looked as white as a sheet. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking leaving you down here alone, abandoning my post like that! When the captain saw me, he almost blew his top.’

  ‘Never mind,’ El-i-miir patted him on the shoulder as she headed up the stairs. ‘No harm done.’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  DISEMBODIMENT