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CHAPTER TWENTY "i'm tired of explaining the fire - it burns because it must."
"YOU CAN'T STAY HERE forever, you know?"
"The shadows of the mountain hold our cover well."
Nikolai Lantsov paced the bow of the Kingfisher with his hands clasped desperately behind his back. "We can stay here until sunrise at least."
"And go where?" Baghra's tone was brisk and scolding as she glared at him in the moonlight. How she managed to do it so effectively without being able to see him was a miracle that warranted a Sainthood of her own.
They'd been traveling for little more than a week. One week of captaining a crew more suited to Palace life than they ever could be to the deck of a ship, one week of dodging the wailing grief of his mother and father, and one long week of numbing terror at the prospect of all of this being entirely for nothing.
He didn't even know if they had made it out of Os Alta. Rumours were plentiful, each one of them with their own implications and contradictions, and if Nikolai had to hear another whisper that she was dead, he was going to throw someone overboard this damned ship and then they could go to the other side to check for themselves.
They were alive. She was alive. It was a mantra that kept the dark at bay but the six words had little power beyond his own faith and even that was beginning to stumble as the days dragged on.
"Oh ye of little faith." Ironic, Nikolai noted as he shouldered that optimistic persona once more. "I might be down an ancestral home and a family member or two but," He held up his hands to the old woman, "I still have both sleeves."
She scowled. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Plenty of tricks up them." Watching the old woman mutter and curse him under her breath was almost like having her back - if his Pirate was old and mean and had a murderous prick of a son. He really hoped she didn't. "Obviously."
The old woman groaned and turned her back to the moon as she stared with her unseeing eyes and did very little else. When she finally spoke, Nikolai wished she hadn't.
"What if she's dead, Sobachka? What then?"
"Then I fight for Ravka. Like I always have." The words settled into the stagnant air. Nikolai refused to give Baghra enough time to notice his hesitation. Truthfully, not even he knew what he would do if she was dead. Which left only one solution, "She's not dead."
"How do you know?"
"I see her in my dreams." Every night. The waking hours were torment but the nights were so sweet.
"What do you dream about?"
Nikolai fought back the smile that curved his lips. "Things that would make your old toes curl, my dear Baghra. Ask me something else so I can save you the shame."
