Page 43 of Carousel

Drake knees the man, which makes him keel over, then he shoves him forwards, as if presenting them with a sack of flour.

Riss stands over the body, and a couple of soldiers step in to help get him moved. Others are heading back into their cabins.

Cosmer turns and sees me in the doorway. He pads over to me with those bare feet. The same feet I’d seen upside down in water, or with sand in between the toes.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” I say, even though I’m shaking.

He looks pale. His fingers twitch at his sides, like he’s frustrated with someone. Or himself.

“When I heard the shot, I thought for a second⁠—”

He casts a look around at the soldiers in the hallway. When he looks back at me, he’s glaring.

“I told you not to leave the cabin.”

I gape at him. “Cosmer. I thought⁠—”

“Get back in there, and go to sleep. Before someone writes you up for being OBOH.”

He’s serious.

It’s another order. Hard as a blow.

But how did I think he was going to speak to me up here?

I’m just Rhavnan scum. Worse than that, I’m a prisoner.

I’ve never, until this moment, felt more like one.

It really is dark in here, from the lack of any natural light. I’m completely, aggravatingly, awake, and more aware than ever of the subtle movements of the ship beneath me. An almost imperceptible rise and fall, like a breath.

And I can still hear those gunshots. How they’d reverberated around the metal and wood around us. If it had been my cabin Chapp had gone to first, would I have been able to protect myself? Or would I have needed to rely on Cosmer?

Because the way he spoke to me just now, I’m not sure I can.

As if in answer to my thoughts, there’s a rustling sound at my side. Cosmer is rolling over in his sleep, in the bed that is so close to mine.

Cosmer. Who was my friend, once.

Cosmer, who seems different. Stricter. Neater.

Harder.

But he’s alive.

And he’s no more than an arm’s length away from me.

I let myself listen for a minute to the sound of his steady breaths.

Then I bury my head in my pillow to block them out. Like I should.

CHAPTER 9

The Making of a Bed

The next time I wake, it’s because of a bell ringing outside. Accompanying the noise is a male voice, which booms down the corridor. The cabin floods with harsh white light, and I hear Cosmer sliding out of bed.