“Save it, Van,” I snap, trying to cover my hurt with anger. “You meant what you said.”
He tries to grab my hand, but I pull away too quickly. “Don’t you want to see what’s beyond our walls and our harbors without being afraid of losing our jobs? Or swinging from the hangman’s noose?” His voice strains with the effort of keeping it steady. “Don’t you want to get married?”
“I do.” The words stick in my throat along with the tears I’m holding back. Even if our leaving went unnoticed until we were far from shore, I wouldn’t know who I am if I’m not the Sparrow. I’m afraid I’d just be some girl on a boat. But keeping Evander in Karthia when he’s dreamed forever of mapping out rivers and lakes and sleeping under new skies seems almost cruel. Even if I need him here. Even if the one dream I’ve never told anyone—of finally having a family of my own—would die the moment he left.
After a while, Evander says softly, “Tell me what you want most.”
What I want is an end to these arguments. They only wind up hurting us both, never solving anything, because I never meant to fall for someone so in love with the unknown that it would threaten to take me away from the things that make me the Sparrow and the job it took seven years to learn. I doubt he meant to fall for me either, but now I’m caught up in his dreams of maps and distant shores, complicating everything.
“Maybe I don’t know what I want anymore.” I push a lock of hair out of my face with a shaking hand. With Nicanor’s death fresh in my mind, a vivid reminder that we necromancers only get one chance at life, every little decision feels like an anchor holding me underwater. “This life is all we get, Van. There’s no room for mistakes. No second chances, no do-overs. I just want to make sure we consider all the consequences before rushing off.”
Evader grips my shoulders like I’m scaring him. The realization makes anger flare in my chest, because without it, I’d be scared, too, and there’s no room for fear in Karthia. Not with the Dead among us, and with the possibility of a Shade being created at any moment.
“I know what I want. To be with you—really be with you. Out in the open.” Evander’s voice deepens with longing. “That’s why we have to go.”
I say the same thing I always do when he brings up leaving. “If it’s me you want, then tell Lyda we’re in love and demand her blessing. She’ll come around eventually. We don’t have to go anywhere to really be together.”
“If she knew we were in love, she’d never let you stay here again. She’ll never let me marry a necromancer.”
“She doesn’t want you to be a necromancer,” I correct, clenching my hands at my sides. “Or me. It scares her, because of your father. But we can go live at the palace whether we’re married or not. We have rooms there, thanks to His Majesty. It would mean no more sneaking, even if your mother never accepts what’s been in front of her for years.”
“That’ll crush her, and you know it. She’ll have no one then, with Meredy studying so far away, and Elibeth working all the time.” He lowers his gaze. “We may not agree on, well, anything, but she’s the only parent I’ve got. I can’t hurt her like that.”
“If you think moving to the palace would hurt her, how do you think it’ll be when you vanish completely?” My voice comes out sharper than I intended. “You want to leave Karthia. That’s what you really want. Stop pretending leaving is all about being with me!”
Stung, Evander drops his hands from my shoulders. “You’re right. About everything.” He takes a deep breath. “Leaving will destroy her, but at least I won’t have to see her face.”
“Coward.” I wince, partly at the hurt on his face, and partly because I’m ashamed to admit I’m glad I said it.
“I could say the same of you.” Evander leans close, breathing fast. “Even if you won’t admit it, you’re just like everyone else. Scared of what’s out there.” He sweeps his arm toward the sea. “Scared of change.”
“If that’s what you think, then you don’t know me at all.”
I leap to my feet.
“Odessa—”
Dodging his outstretched hand, I slide down the roof, taking care to not make a sound in case Lyda or Elibeth are sleeping restlessly. The patter of Evander’s hurried steps pursues me as I dash toward the guest room where I stay—seven years, and I’ll always be a guest. I change course at the last minute, ducking into Meredy’s room two doors away instead.
I sink onto the edge of her bed as I struggle to get control of my breathing, coming in ragged gasps. The faint scent of the clean, sparse room always calms my nerves, though I can’t explain why. It’s a mixture of cedar chips, vanilla, and something I can’t name. All I know is, it helps me clear my mind. I don’t want to think right now, about Evander, Nicanor, or sailing ships or anything else.
I haven’t seen Evander’s younger sister Meredy since she was ten, starting her mage training a year after Evander and I began ours. She’d be sixteen now, training to be a beast master like her sister.
Burying my damp face in Meredy’s quilt, I wonder if she’s freezing to death in one of the northernmost provinces, Lorness or Oslea, learning to understand and control the seals and winter-white foxes. Or maybe she’s down in Dargany Province, riding on a camel’s back. I’ve only ever seen camels in paintings, but I wouldn’t mind going somewhere like Dargany to experience new things. No matter what Evander thinks, I’m not scared of change—even if I don’t always like it. I’m scared of going someplace where I might not be the Sparrow, of not knowing who or what I’d be then.
Yet I wonder if some small part of me is afraid, too, that Evander is right about leaving. We only get one chance at life—what if staying isn’t keeping us safe, but holding us back? I wonder if I’d ever be brave enough to admit that aloud, much less to him.
After a while, I fall asleep and images blur together in my dreams: a bloodied Master Nicanor staggering through the icy tundra.
V
The last person I want to see this morning is Kasmira. But after waking with my face buried in Meredy’s quilt to find two of the Crowther maids gawking at me from the doorway, I remember I gave the last of my coffee beans to Princess Valoria yesterday. So I don’t have much of a choice.
I throw on a clean shirt, breeze down the stairs without looking to see if Evander is watching me from the parlor, and manage to dash outside before Elibeth’s hounds cover me in drool.