Page 20 of The Isles of the Gods
I was so sure Leander was better than him. That Leander would take care of me. A few weeks before, I’d been sitting beside him in class, lending him a pencil, tilting my test paper so he could see the answers to the equations that always baffledhim.
I didn’t believe he was coming to help me. Iknewhe was.
My mother told me over and over to let him go.
“Jude,” she’d say quietly, “the two of you sat together in your classroom, yes, but you and he are not the same. A prince cannot reach down into the gutter for someone like you, not with all the world watching.”
I refused to believe her, and she’d sigh softly.
“A clean break will be better,” she’d insist.
And I’d keep waiting for Leander, like a fool. He was myfriend. It would have been nothing to him, to rescue me. It would have been so easy.
But he never showed up.
And I learned a lesson I’ve never forgotten.
“Jude?” My mother’s weak, breathy voice draws me back to the present, and I take in her drawn features, the shadows beneath her eyes.
“I’m listening,” I whisper.
“Everyone tells the same story different ways,” she says quietly, and perhaps she, at least,istalking about herself and my father. There’s no reason for her to think of Leander today. “And the only version we’re the hero of is our own, Jude.”
The unearned trust she gives everyone, her faith in everyone’s better self—that’s why we’re here. Someone more worldly would have made sure my father provided for us instead of leaving us at his wife’s mercy—and if he or his wife had different versions of that story, I can’t bring myself to care.
But that faith my mother has in everyone is what I need to keep going, some days.
“I have to go away for a little while,” I say, tilting my head toward the front door meaningfully. “Ruby has a job for me.”
Her eyes flick after me, and I see her understand we’re not alone.
“Ruby will send the doctor while I’m gone,” I say, “and I’ll be back quick as I can. There’s some potatoes, and there’s beans already soaking. When Mrs.Tevner comes by on her way to the market tomorrow, tell her I’ll fix her stove as soon as I get back. She’s been asking, so that should hold her attention for you while I’m gone.”
“I’ll tell her,” Mum says, though we both know I have noidea how to do it. I grew up in a neat house in Kirkpool with a cook and a maid, and they didn’t teach repairs at boarding school.
The thought of school drags me back to what lies before me—the former friend whose body I’m supposed to identify—and I ease off the edge of the bed, digging underneath it for a bag. She’s silent as I shove my spare clothes inside, as I fumble too many times, yanking the drawstring too hard.
“I’ll be back as quick as I can,” I say again, leaning down to kiss her cheek. Her skin is smooth, but her arm is so thin under my hand, the bones of her shoulder sharp. Something about her sickbed smells sweet, wrong. The tight ball of anger inside me threatens to push its way up my throat, but I force my features smooth, and I stand.
Is there anything else I should tell her, if war is coming? We don’t have the money to stock up on food. Maybe what Ruby pays for this job will get us out of the city, though.
“Rest,” I say. “Do what the doctor tells you.”
“I love you, Jude,” she says, reaching out with visible effort to squeeze my hand.
“You too, Mum.” I want to say more, but Laskia’s presence in the next room pushes the words back down my throat. So I give her a tight nod, and with another squeeze she lets me go.
I walk past Laskia, and as I head for the stairs, I don’t look back.
SELLY
TheLizabetta
The Crescent Sea
It’s only when theLizabettais under way that I realize just how small our crew is. She’s bowling along in the starlight, her sails unfurled and full now, spirit flags flapping, the deck swaying beneath my feet. But for once, the smell of salt doesn’t slow my racing heart.
That heart’s tugging me back toward Kirkpool, to theFreyastill moored at the docks. To my last chance to see Da before the winter storms block the way. When I picture theFreyaunfurling her own sails in the morning, easing out of the harbor with no notion I was supposed to be aboard, not even a message from me, tears ache hot behind my eyes again.
