Everleigh

Once upon a time, I napped for a year.

I didn't nap again for six more.

The boredom of it all.

Hours upon hours I lay.

TSB gave me his bunk because I wanted to be up high.

And the other one still smelled like Rhian and Andrei.

I clutched the feathered hat to my chest.

He'd only sold his soul to get it for me.

"Ever," TSB said. "Are you awake?"

"I don't sleep much."

"I feel rested enough. Do you want to leave now?"

Midnight when we made a break for it. Like two ships in the night but we were traveling in the same direction. The crickets croaked a mourning song.

All songs are mourning songs.

The grotto was waiting when we arrived.

As if there'd been any doubt.

It dripped, it dropped. The air smelled of salvation.

TSB offered his hand when we boarded the embark.

The suspense of it all.

I took it.

A shortening of breath. A quickening of pulse.

"Do you want to hang out up here?" he asked. "Actually, wait—can you even swim?"

A bench along the bow. I took a seat. "What does that matter if I can't drown."

"Well, most people's instinct is to start flailing around and that can be scary."

"Okay." I shrugged. "I won't flail."

A smile that could melt the snow in Endica. "Hold on to your hat, then."

But I could not. Both hands were occupied.

We glided from the grotto, and I pushed on my wrists until it hurt.

The peppermint burned my nostrils.

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I'd dabbed a double dose.

Hours upon hours we rode.

I still felt sick, but the moonlight glittered against his chest.

Just like I'd imagined.

The sun would soon awaken.

And my skin would soon burn, and my eyes would soon fail.

My fount of power, though great, wasn't endless.

The worry of it all.

I wasn't sure how or when I'd feed.

"How did your parents die," I asked.

"Yeah, okay—just like that, huh?"

I shrugged.

TSB stood at the bow. To steer was to stare, and he stared. "My dad died at sea before I was born. My mom died almost four years ago now, she just got sick."

I didn't ask how old she was.

You don't have to be old to get sick.

"Were they in love."

TSB shook his head. A smooth turn.

I pushed on my wrists.

"Nothing like that," he continued. "I was bred, basically."

"Oh."

"Yeah, what about you? Have you ever figured out why you look like a Partisan?"

"Aye, it's the same reason I have silver hair. The same reason Sebastian looks the way he does, I guess, but I was more sickly than he was growing up. Medical anomalies. I couldn't tolerate the sun before. I tolerate it even less now."

"Sebastian really took care of you, didn't he?"

"Aye."

"What about your real parents?"

We sliced through the water like a blade through supple flesh.

I took a deep, burning breath.

"I don't know. They were people. There weren't any records; I was just left."

"Have you thought about finding them?"

"They're probably dead. Or really old."

"I thought old and almost dead people were your specialty."

I snorted when I laughed.

I didn't laugh often.

Sometimes, it could scarcely be helped.

The sun crept ever higher.

And I, ever lower.

Until next time, TSB.

The deck creaked.

A quick descent, and then a tiptoe.

TSB crouched beside me. I opened my eyes.

"Where are we."

"Southeast of Amalia."

"Why are we stopping."

"Because I am but a mere mortal," he said. "I need a nap."

The annoyance of it all.

"Can I drive."

"I don't know, can you?" he asked. "Drive?"

"Just for a little while."

"I mean, if you can drive, you can drive. Show me."

I showed him. To steer was to stare, and I stared.

"All yours." TSB held a hand out.

I shook his fingers with my fingers.

A quickening.

"Keep north, and if it starts raining—thunder and lightening type raining—wake me up immediately."

"Okay."

Hours upon hours I soared.

A shroud of sea spray and salt.

We met again in the space between dusk and dawn.

We talked. I played.

The quickening quickened.

I sang a song about a silver-tongued scoundrel.

He sang along, off key and wrong.

TSB, a true gentleman.

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