She nodded, standing up and moving next to him. “I’m not sure you know what that means.”
“What? It’s difficult to understand that, because of how I feel about you, I can’t just open up and tell you certain things? Well, I can’t! Not yet, at least. Maybe when we reach Stridegate. Maybe then.”
She stared at him a moment. “You should listen to yourself. You should hear yourself the way I do. Railing, if you were really in love with me, you could always open up to me. You wouldn’t have to hide things.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“I think it does.” She stepped away again. “Don’t let the clock tick all the way down. Don’t wait so long that, by the time you decide to confide in the rest of us, it’s too late to matter. Because that can happen. Do you understand?”
“I think so.”
She gave him a wan smile. “I wonder if you do.”
Then she turned and walked away.
Four
They flew Quickening on through the sun’s setting and into twilight, reaching the place where the Charnals began to broaden into a split range with multiple layers before setting down for the night. Here, the mountains were visible for miles in all directions, vast and immutable, great silent sentinels of the Northland east. The attack by the Gnome raiders was far behind them by then, and the town of Rampling Steep farther still. There were no settlements this far north, only hundreds of miles of empty space and broken rock. Staring out at it, Railing could only think of how bleak his life had become.
They slept aboard the ship that night with a close watch at both the bow and stern. Too many dangerous creatures prowled this region of the world, Challa Nand had warned. Gnome raiders were one thing; Gnawls and the like were another. Railing didn’t bother asking what a Gnawl was. He didn’t want to know.
He wasn’t asked to stand watch on either shift, however, and when Mirai showed no interest in speaking with him further, he rolled into his blanket and quickly fell asleep.
When he woke, after what felt like only a few hours, it was raining again.
The sound of it brought him awake. He heard the thrumming against the decking overhead and rose, wrapping himself in his weather cloak, and went topside to find himself caught in a torrential downpour. It was raining so hard, it was coming down in sheets that obscured everything more than a few feet away. He peered about for the other members of the crew but could see no one. Ducking his head and pulling the cloak and hood tight against his face and body, he fought his way through the deluge to the pilot box, thinking to find someone there.
But the box was empty.
He left and went to the stern railing. Nothing.
Suddenly he was panicked. Was the entire ship deserted? No, he had seen Farshaun wrapped in his bandages and blankets, asleep below. One of the injured Rovers was resting close by the old man—the only one hurt badly enough in yesterday’s attack to be so confined. He also seemed to remember catching sight of someone moving through the gloom, a shadow passing along the walls of the vessel in the faint light of the smokeless torches the Rover airships relied on. But that might have been a dream.
He went back down the ladder and inside the ship. Farshaun was still sleeping, as was the injured Rover. Over in another corner, he found Woostra asleep as well. He hesitated, then knelt and shook the Druid scribe awake.
Woostra peered up at him. “What’s wrong?”
Railing hesitated. “I can’t find anyone aboard but you and Farshaun and that injured Rover. Can’t think of his name.”
“His name is Aleppo.” The scribe rubbed his beard, then his eyes and yawned. “I’ve been asleep. Are you sure about all this?”
“Aleppo. I knew that. I just forgot. And yes, I’m sure.”
In fact, he was embarrassed at his lapse of memory. He rose. “I’m going back out on deck. Please watch out for Farshaun.” He started away and then turned back again, a premonition tugging at him. “Don’t try to come after me. Wait until I come back for you.”
He left the bewildered scribe staring after him. And tightening his weather cloak once more, he went up the ladder and out on deck. The rain hadn’t lessened; if anything, it was more severe than before, pummeling the wooden decks and hull with deafening force.
He stood amid the tumult and the chilling, invasive downpour for a moment to get his bearings, then started toward the bow. He hadn’t checked there yet. In his haste to find someone, he had skipped the bow in favor of a more thorough search of the hold.
So, maybe …
He was almost all the way forward when a figure detached itself from the gloom ahead. Railing started in spite of himself, thinking for just a moment that he had encountered a wraith rather than a man. But it was only one of the Rovers cloaked and hooded against the weather.