A Spoiled Rule

Chapter 5

The king was slow to wake. He could not recall the last time he had slept, though he felt he needed more. His limbs were stiff and his head ached, and so did his hand, which he thought was odd. You have a duty, thought the king, and he opened his eyes. He expected to lie in a bed in the lower deck of the portmaster's ship, yet his gut told him otherwise. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he knew for certain. The king lie on a solid ground of rock, with smooth walls around him. The ceiling above was curved, as if someone had taken time to carve into the rock to make it habitable. There was a distant drip, along with a shuffling that startled the king. He lifted his head while his other hand reached for the knife concealed in his garments, but the sheath was empty. In fact, the king did not feel the weight of his suspensors secured to him. He scrambled to his feet, though a dizzy spell seemed to overtake him, for the rock walls were spinning.
"Careful! You don't want to hurt yourself."
The king lost his footing and fell roughly to his hands and knees. Finally, his world stopped spinning. He lifted his head. "Who's there?"
A man stepped out of the shadows. He looked a few years older than the king, with strikingly dark hair and dark eyes. His skin was pale and his clothes were dark. Whether a gravedigger or funeral director, the king could not tell.
A woman appeared next to the man. She also had dark hair but her eyes were lighter. She wore blue clothing. It was then that the king noticed his suspensors gleaming at her bare feet. She slapped the man's arm. "Don't be rude!" she hissed. She headed for the king.
The king sat back against the wall and held out his hand, and the woman stopped. He noticed something green wrapped around his hand and brought it closer to his eyes. Some sort of bandage made of a material like thick grass was wrapped around the wound he had given himself from that mysterious blade.
"It's made of seaweed and some healing herbs," said the woman softly. She bent down to the king's eye level. "Gresham found you in the upper waters, and he brought you here, where we wrapped your hand."
The king understood he was in Dínam. He looked toward the front of the cave where, in a wall of rock, sat a heavy door, smoothed into a gleaming surface. He looked back to the woman, who was staring at him with wide eyes. "Where are my men?" asked the king quietly. He did not want to startle the Dínes, so he kept his voice soft.
"I didn't find any others," spoke the man, stepping beside the woman. "Perhaps someone else found them. Drackam could've caught them. He lives further up there."
"You're the one she calls Gresham?" asked the king. He felt his brain was still sinking with the ship.
The man nodded and clenched his jaw.
"Thank you for saving my life," said the king sincerely. "Why are my clothes not wet?"
Gresham simply stared at the king.
"The door dries you," said the woman simply. "King Mettiam has already been notified. He has sent some men to collect you, so you may be questioned."
The king frowned. He needed to know more about this other king, but not from these people. "Is it safe within these caves?"
Gresham and the woman exchanged glances that the king couldn't discern. "Why do you ask such a question?" countered the woman.
"I do not question the safety of your kingdom," the king assured. "I am only worried about the diseased on land. I have a doctor who is studying whether they can enter the water or not... though I fear I lost him."
Both Gresham and the woman stared at the king as if his brain was scrambled. The king frowned. Perhaps they called the diseased something else. "Diseased... The ones who've contracted the plague. You must know... Zombies."
The woman stood and took a small step back. "Zombies?" she repeated. "The plague has begun? That is why you ventured away from your restricted path?"
The king would need to question Harvey, if the poor man was still alive. The king held his breath and stood slowly to his feet, cautiously holding onto the wall. "The central and western quarters of my kingdom have been overrun. I was forced to flee with whom I had left under Protocol Ninety-Three. I... I presume you still comply with that protocol, or do you comply with the revision?"
Again, the two looked at each other. The woman's jaw dropped. "You're the king!"
"Do I not look like one?" he mumbled.
"We don't mean any disrespect, but we can't distinguish you from any other," said Gresham. "You wear clothes like ours, though the colors are different and the golden armor is not like ours. You are also young... Very young."
"Our king wears a large coral crown," said the woman. "And he has many bracelets of armor to protect himself and track his own guards." She paused for a moment, then gasped. "Gresham, we cannot give him to our king! They will kill him to end the war!"
"Which protocol do you follow?" questioned the king.
"If we must, we follow the original," said the woman hastily. "But our king follows the revision."
"Prima, if we are caught, we will die," said Gresham.
The king took a mental note of the woman's name. He also wondered how the Dínes had gotten a hold of the revision.
"You know we must," said Prima.
Gresham sighed and looked to the king, before stepping in front of him and pointing a finger in his face. "No hard feelings, King, but I must command you."
"Go on," said the king quickly.
"You will say that Gresham and Prima found you drifting near their home and rescued you, immediately calling for King Mettiam. You will not tell them that you are the king of the land-King of Harksgold. What is your name?"
The king hesitated. He had not used his first name since his youth. "Liam."
"Perfect," said Gresham. "You will tell them your name, but will not elude to your kingship. Do not ask about your men. Tell them you came here in a panic because of the plague. You're a thief. You stole that vessel." Gresham tore away the bandage on Liam's hand, where a thin line of blood sat. Gresham snapped his fingers at Prima, who grabbed the old knife that was sitting amongst the golden suspensors. She passed it to Gresham, who passed it to Liam. "This blade may bring you favor."
"How can it bring me favor when I have yet to know of its magnitude?" questioned Liam.
Suddenly, the door at the mouth of the cave was opened by three tall men, faces covered in some elegantly carved material Liam could not identify. One of the men strutted toward Gresham and Prima, while the other two headed straight for Liam, who gripped the knife tightly in his cut hand and stood tall. One of them tore the blade from Liam's hand and stowed it in his armor, while the other grabbed tightly onto Liam's shoulders.
"Bring the gold to Your Majesty's Recovery Box, then go back out and do what you were doing before you found this man," said a man toward Gresham. His voice was muffled slightly through the mask he wore.
Gresham nodded, and he and Prima grabbed the gold, secured an odd mask to their faces, and jumped through the doorway.
"You will be muzzled," said the guard holding onto Liam. "If you tamper with the muzzle, you will drown. You will be taken to our Majesty, where you will be questioned. We will remove your muzzle and push you into the currents if you attempt to harm our Majesty in any way."
Liam felt as if he were being arrested and about to be tried for some horrendous crime. He felt the man clasp a black band around Liam's wrist, and then the man tapped it twice. Immediately, something not unlike a snake slithered up Liam's arm and clasped around his nose and mouth. It was similar to a muzzle used for a horse, though it was completely sealed and the king could feel a constant puff of air against his face.
"When you step through that doorway, there will be an escort that will take you to the king. If you stray from the escort, you will be lost in the sea," said the man. He pulled Liam toward the door and regarded his fellow comrades. They all gave a stiff nod, and Liam, rather than being pulled through the doorway, was shoved. Panic seized his heart as he fell through water onto a surface he could not see, but it felt like gold. It carried him at an alarming speed through the sea, of which he could not take in because he squeezed his eyes shut. For a moment, he felt as if he were flying through the air on his suspensors, but as quick as the feeling arrived, it went, and Liam found himself with a face full of sand. Suddenly, his muzzle seemingly evaporated or retracted, and he hurried to his feet as he heard the three men land softly behind him. Wiping his face, Liam found he was in a palace. It seemed to be built by man, made of navy rock. The palace had a roof elegantly carved, separating the water from the air inside the palace walls. Though there were no windows, the darkness gave way to small glowing stones and artificial blue and white bulbs of light. Bleak, dried coral posed as the favored decoration inside. To the left and right were expanses of sand, with random stone columns here and there supporting nothing but more coral. Alcoves in the walls displayed turtles and species of fish, frozen in fear. It was some sort of indoor courtyard. A path of turtle shells led to large steps of stone, upon which sat a throne of bones and coral. Liam was encouraged toward the steps, and as he passed, spotted dozens of guards standing on each side of the path, faces completely concealed in masks. One was indistinguishable from the other.
Upon the throne sat a man with shoulder-length hair and a beard. His hair was entangled with coral and glowing stones. The man's eyes were dark, and he raised his hand in the air, for which the three men and Liam stopped.
"Bring forth what you have found," demanded the king. His voice was youthful and strong, echoing throughout the domed palace. Liam could not identify any inner rooms of the palace, for the walls were too dark.
One of the men handed to the king the blade that Liam had found. At its sight, the king looked to Liam. "Where have you found this blade?" the king demanded.
"On a ship," said Liam plainly.
"Where is the portmaster of Harksgold?"
At this, Liam hesitated. He was not prepared for this sort of question. "The portmaster is here?" he said.
"It was his ship that you sunk, was it not?" asked the king, his eyes narrowed at Liam.
"I suppose so, yes," said Liam.
"Long ago, there were plans left for a great portmaster of Harksgold. The tale goes that one day, the portmaster will find those plans and rebuild a ship dedicated to the one who gave him the plans," said the king, and some of the guards nodded along.
"Who gave him the plans?" asked Liam. He added, "Surely this fellow will have more designs for me to... examine."
The king let out a laugh. "Well," he said when he'd caught his breath, "no one knows who made the plans!"
Liam suspected otherwise, and he sighed. "Well, I simply admired its design," said Liam. "I thought it was for the king of Harksgold, when I saw the inscription. But if you say that the blade was meant for some unknown man, then I am beginning to question my steal."
The king leaned forward. "Why is that?"
"Because it won't be worth as much."
The king smiled thinly. "So you are a thief? Well, better the thief than the king!" He laughed, and as if by command, so did the guards. Liam managed a smile. The king continued, "There are kings mightier than that one. Trust these words: you took a very valuable item." He leaned back in his throne and lowered his voice. "If I were to discover the portmaster somewhere within these waters, you would be in trouble, thief," said the king, his smile turning into a grimace. He sighed. "Where are my manners? Welcome to Dínam! I am embarrassed to confess that we do not receive many visitors, in light of the war... But any thief is welcome!" The king squinted his eyes. "What is the condition of Harksgold?"
"Overrun with savages," replied Liam. "The naive king died with his people in his palace," he spat. "I was not going to venture into that palace, no matter what the protocol said!"
"You're a brave thief," said the king. "And what is your name?"
"Liam."
The king upon the throne frowned slightly. "And your surname?"
"Burkham," replied Liam falsely. "But I'd prefer to keep those details quiet, Your Majesty. Doesn't do my business well."
The king gave a great laugh and pointed to one of his guards. "You!" he breathed. "Fetch this man a proper Aquadínito!"
Liam was handed a mask resembling those of the guards. It was black and smooth, with minute carvings and a filter around the mouth. A guard tapped the black band around Liam's wrist, which unclamped and fell to the sand, and put on his new mask. At first, Liam felt as if it were vibrating, adjusting slightly to fit his own face. Then he felt a strap appear around his head, securing it. Through the mask, Liam could see just as well as he had before, and if he stared in one spot, the world seemed to magnify. He heard a faint whirring, which he assumed was the filter, though he did not need it at the moment for he was inside the palace. He wondered why he was about to be cast into the water.
"I shall assign to you a cave by nightfall," said the king. "In the meantime, why don't you taste the food of Dínam? Just step outside the palace walls and venture left, where a an escort will take you to the commons."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," said Liam.
The king smiled, then leaned forward in his seat. "Shall you pose a nuisance in my kingdom, or steal an item that is considerably valuable to me, I must send you back to that wretched kingdom above."
Liam smiled faintly, though the king could not see, and mustered a small nod. The king leaned back and gestured toward him. "Go on, Liam! Eat! Enjoy the comforts of the kingdom."
Liam turned and walked the turtle path back to the palace entrance, where he hesitated at two looking doors. He felt vulnerable in his clothes and shocked at the king. He did not think the King of Dínam to be one of proud spirit and cold nature, despite him being the enemy. He also did not expect a young king. The man was older than Liam, yet younger than he'd expected. If he were the inventor thrown into the sea, he'd be older than his father. He wondered if that man was related to the poor inventor.
Liam then felt a sense of helplessness and anger toward his father, the Late King. Surely his father had not been the one to throw the man into the sea and start a war... If any kingdom were to be threatened by one man, the defending king shall then impose fair trial and judgement upon the accused, not murder without trial.
Liam shook his thoughts away and pushed through the doors. Pressure pressed at all sides of him. Through his mask, he could see a bronze plate about the size of a small desk laying upon the sand, and he stepped on it. The plate began to drift away from the palace at a much slower pace than how he'd arrived. Liam spotted other people riding plates in the distance. Fish and large beasts of the sea swam far away yet close enough for Liam to swim a few paces and touch them.
In the distance, a large structure of rock appeared. As he got closer, Liam strained to see the top of the rock, but he couldn't. It loomed into the dark sea above.
It was then that Liam realized he could not see the sun. All around him, the sea was lit not by sunlight but little orbs that produced a nearly impossible amount of light. As he drifted along the sea floor, he wondered how long his clothes would hold up. He remembered the gauze of seaweed around his hand and was just as curious of the make-up of clothes that the Dínes wore.
The plate of bronze parked him at the foot of the tall monument of rock. There was a door carved into it, and Liam stepped off the plate, sinking into the sand. He opened the door and entered what appeared to be a dining hall. Windows were again substituted by faintly glowing plants and bright orbs. A multitude of people were about, some dining at tables of rotting wood, others wandering from vendor to vendor. He looked up and noticed that the entire rock had been hollowed. Golden platforms rose up and down, escorting people to other shops that were carved into the walls of the rock.
Liam approached the nearest vendor, who was selling broiled fish. He then glanced at the other vendors and realized they all were selling some sort of fish. The people paid with chips of stone. While the hall was miraculous, it wasn't diverse, and the currency held no value. Even the tables in the center were made of rotting driftwood. This is not how it should be, thought Liam.
"Good, you're alive!"
Liam turned to find Prima beaming at him. She grabbed onto his arm, where Liam unwillingly flinched, and led him to a rotting table where Gresham sat picking at a red fish.
"Gresham, look! He's alive!" said Prima breathlessly. She reached for the back of Liam's head and touched the straps of his mask, and it retracted and snaked down his arm, folding into a band around his wrist.
Liam momentarily panicked, but he realized that he was breathing air. He was not in the water.
Gresham glanced at Liam. "And they gave him an Aquadínito, too," he grunted.
"Did the king invent these masks?" asked Liam.
Gresham gave a spurt of a laugh. "Here is not the appropriate place to discuss such a thing."
Prima smiled. "The tiny Díne that saves!" she mocked. "That is what Aquadínitos are named after. These small masks of ours are unworthy of naming," said Prima, flashing the band around her wrist. It was rusty and not at all elegant like Liam's. "Unlike yours."
Liam gathered his surroundings. There were at least a couple hundred citizens dwelling in the commons area. He sensed a dullness in the air. If this was all there was to the underwater world, he could see how tempting it could be to waste away out of boredom.
He was curious to learn more of the Dínes, the longtime enemy of Harksgold, but when he was forming his approach to discuss the topic, his thoughts halted. Amongst a small group standing near a rotting table was Doctor Hummings, his hair wild. He was an outlier, his white coat the brightest piece of apparel around. The doctor must have spotted him, for he suddenly broke from his small circle and headed straight for Liam.
"My King!" Hummings breathed, his eyes landing on Liam's hand.
"Refer to me as Liam," he replied. "And you are Stephen."
"I see, Liam," said Stephen quietly, running a nervous hand through his brown hair. Liam wanted to hug the man, but he restrained his urge.
"Were you found by these two?" Stephen nodded at the table.
Liam noticed Gresham and Prima staring obviously at them. "Indeed," he said. "And you?"
"Rescued by a family who lives in a cave," said Stephen. "They are very generous, though I fear they withhold information. Yet I cannot blame them."
"We must discuss further at a relatively secure location," said Liam. "Can the family be trusted?"
"I fall victim to a very trusting heart," said Stephen. "I feel they indeed can be trusted, though they have two young children."
Liam did not want to endanger anyone, let alone children. "Perhaps elsewhere..." He lowered his voice. "The two who rescued me, Gresham and Prima, appear trustworthy. They instructed me on how to appeal to their king. They have spared my life twice thus far." Liam spoke with hope and withheld his suspicions. He felt more hesitant toward the nature of mankind after the beasts he encountered within his own palace. Liam condemned himself. He should not have referred to his people as beasts, even if it had occurred only inside his head.
Stephen frowned. "You appeared before the king?"
"You did not?" asked Liam. "Perhaps it is because Gresham and Prima hold enough fear of their king to obey his laws. It could be that the family who took you in does not hold this fear and therefore does not wish to turn you in." Liam took a deep breath. "Well, I feel it is best we head to the cave now." He returned his attention to Gresham and Prima, whose eyes diverted away from him. "The king spoke of a cave assignment, though I do not know when that will be."
"Don't worry," said Gresham. "In the meantime, you're safer with us." He stood, then eyed Stephen. "Is this the doctor?"
"Stephen," he replied.
Gresham glanced at Liam, then turned to Prima. "Are you ready?"
Prima nodded. "Try to stay close to us," she said as they were led toward the door. "And careful on your escort. One slip and you'll be lost in the water, and I'm not confident you'll be able to swim back." She tapped the band on her wrist, and a rickety mask sprung on her face. Liam and Stephen copied her. At the door, Gresham and Prima grabbed two bronze plates with holes in it. Gresham looked around, as if checking if anyone were gazing at them, then snatched up another and pushed through the door.
Back in the sand, Liam could see Gresham and Prima lay their bronze plates down and step on them. Immediately, the plates began to carry them away.
"We've only got one," said Prima, though she was far away now. Liam realized he could hear her voice quite clearly through his mask and was again amazed. Then, he realized the extent of what she'd said, and he faltered, staring at the third plate lying in the sand. He gazed at Stephen and nearly jumped, having forgotten already that Stephen, too, wore a mask that hid his face.
Stephen waved his hands through the water, gesturing for Liam to get on first. He did, the tips of his toes hanging off as Stephen stepped on behind him. With a shudder, the plate lifted from the sand and began to cruise leisurely through the black water.
Prima's voice echoed in Liam's mind. Out of curiosity, he decided to try an experiment. "Can you hear me?" he said.
"Yes," Stephen responded. He sounded as if he were standing right in front of Liam. "It's strange... The masks seem to adapt to our faces as we move them."
Liam tried to nod, though it was difficult underwater. He took a deep breath. He felt the need of urgency, though he could not identify why. He held his breath, though it was not required. He tried to relaxed his muscles as he was carried through the dark sea toward the wall of caves. It was ominous. The little orbs of light only went so far, and beyond them, the blackness of the sea was threatening. He was very far from the sea, and he had the strangest fear of falling, but he couldn't fall through water. As he peered past his toes, he spotted others below, also on their way back to the cave they called home.
Liam wobbled, and Stephen placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. The looming wall of rock came into view, and their escort parked them just outside the door. Liam opened it, instinctively expecting to be pulled inside as water flooded the cave. But no tugging came. He wearily stepped through the doorway and found himself back in Gresham and Prima's home. The two were sitting at a small table, waiting patiently.
Stephen closed the door behind and took off his mask, and so did Liam, remembering to touch the back so it could retract into a band around his wrist. He felt unsettled as the band snapped into place, but he couldn't quite find the root of his discomfort.
"You're probably wondering how you're dry," said Prima, who held an air of laughter in her eyes. "Look at the base of the door, and the top."
Liam did as she suggested, and spotted a thin stretch of gold in the floor and the ceiling, running the length of the door. There were little holes punched into the gold.
"Air," said Gresham, lighting a lamp hanging overhead. The comfort of the golden light brought fatigue to Liam, but he fought it back. Gresham continued, "It comes from the holes in the bottom and the top. The air from both sides balance, so you do not feel its pressure as you step through."
"I don't understand," confessed Liam. "You mean to say that... that the air stops the water from coming in?"
Gresham and Prima both nodded.
"But that would take a tremendous amount of pressure," said Liam. "It would be impossible. Water is too... unpredictable." He immediately regretted what he'd said. He reminded himself that he was in Dínam and had to choose his words carefully, as if he were king speaking to his beloved people.
"A lot of things seem impossible here," said Prima, looking away.
Liam sensed the mood turning and figured it'd be wise to change the subject. "Will any be able to hear us?"
Gresham folded his arms and shook his head. "It is not possible, unless one were to be outside the current, clinging to the wall, in which case their mask would break under the pressure. They are surprisingly fragile."
"And cost a fortune," mumbled Prima.
"Stephen," said Liam, "You have not seen any of the others? What of the portmaster? William?"
Stephen shook his head. "None. Yet if the advisors survived, we shall soon know of it."
"Indeed," said Liam. "They will be the cause of our deaths. And have you a report on the... the zombies?" He was aware of Gresham and Prima listening, so he defaulted to their terminology.
Stephen inhaled. "Your... Well, it has not been confirmed, but before the storm, I could detect no... zombies in the water. I do not believe they can swim."
"And what of the sea?" asked Liam. "The fish?"
"I am sorry to report that I do not know," replied Stephen. "But now that we are safely in Dínam, I shall direct all my efforts toward finding an answer to your question."
"Thank you, Stephen," replied Liam. He was aware of the stares of Gresham and Prima, for they were not unlike that of his beloved guards. They observed silently, hearing but not speaking.
The ominous dripping in the cave seemed to grow louder.
"How are the waves of the storm that we endured created?" asked Liam casually.
"The king creates them," replied Prima. "He uses technology that we have not seen of, and hardly heard of."
"Our king does not share with his people," muttered Gresham. He moved over toward the table at which Prima sat and reclined in an unsteady chair.
"If I might ask, what is your relation to each other?" asked Liam softly.
Prima smiled and looked at Gresham, gifting him a loving gaze. "We are siblings. Our parents passed when we were young, so Gresham takes care of us both. He works with the other men, building homes and..." Prima leaned forward. "What is your relation to each other, if I might ask?"
"Stephen is my doctor," replied Liam. "And unofficial friend."
Stephen smiled. "That's right."
"These advisors you mentioned," said Gresham, "Why would they mean the death of you?"
Liam hesitated. Yet if he were to learn of Dínam and befriend her people, then he could not withhold information from those who seek it. "My advisors value age over wisdom," he said sadly. "They do not respect a king as I. Yet they served under my father, and I shall respect them in that sense only."
"How young are you?" asked Prima.
Liam braced himself for a refute. "Twenty-three."
Gresham and Prima's eyes widened. "Our king is older than that!"
"He's ruled longer," mumbled Gresham. "Too long. His father was even worse."
"You speak of the king before him?" clarified Liam.
Gresham folded his arms and nodded stiffly. "He died before our parents did, but he ruled for too long."
When it became apparent to Liam that Gresham would not say more, he said, "Is this all of Dínam? I don't ask to be rude, I only ask out of wonder."
"There is a larger community that is comprised of escapees and those banished," said Gresham seriously. "Possibly even some who have survived a wreck. Yet their location remains unknown."
"It has only been rumored of, but there have been disappearances that could suggest such a community," mumbled Prima.
The dripping was alarming, and Liam around the cave. All seemed well. "And can you do well without a... an Aquadínito?"
Prima frowned. "Well, yes. Sometimes it can be a bit of a blur, but we can see. These masks will give us the bare minimum. You should feel very lucky. Our king must very much like you."
"If we have to, we can use our own eyes to see," said Gresham. "Our eyes are different than yours. If only we could breathe underwater." He choked down a laugh.
"That is fascinating," said Stephen. "There is a legend in our kingdom that speaks of an herb in Díne that can advance abilities underwater."
"A myth, nothing more," said Gresham. "A fairytale told to us as children."
The dripping was very loud. In fact, the room seemed a bit blurry. Liam felt a hand on his arm and he realized he was wavering very unsteadily.
"My King!" said Stephen, ushering him to the ground. He knelt. "Forgive me, Liam!"
Liam's vision was blurry, and his head was swimming. Now that he recalled, he had not gotten a proper sleep in many days, though in his experience, kings never do get proper sleep. He had also not eaten in many days. He felt a sort of tingle run through his bones and tried to focus on Stephen. "You brought your scanner?"
"Of course," replied Stephen, examining the scan's results.
"I will go get some food," said Prima, who had stood and secured her mask. "I will be right back." She opened the door and jumped over the threshold.
"I suggest some rest," said Stephen quietly.
Liam despised himself for being weak, especially in front of Dínes. No people should think of their king as weak. That was what Liam was taught. "Stephen, I cannot rest now," said Liam quietly. "There is a plague. I... I must help Dínam, according to the protocol... I need to find the others, Stephen."
"You know very well that your safety lies before your priorities," said Stephen. "Forgive me for saying this, but you should know from your father that this is not a healthy way to rule."
Liam glanced at Gresham, though he was a blur. Liam hoped he was not speaking too loudly, though he couldn't quite hear himself over the dripping. "There are few who show true loyalty to a king as I, let alone a weak king as I."
"You are not weak," Stephen said harshly. "You are human, and you need to rest. I will gather data on the fish after you wake. In the meantime, I feel it is best I stay here, don't you?"
"Yes, Stephen, that is fine," said Liam quietly, his eyes closing.