Forging Ties (Ties, Book 3) | ✓

Chapter 21

Author's note: Book 3.5 in the Ties series is Forgotten Ties, which is Skye's story. Both books contain spoilers for the other, so they should be read either simultaneously as they update or, if you're catching up, pause here and read everything that has been written of Forgotten Ties so far (or until told otherwise in an author's note in that book) before returning back to continue this one. 

Skye didn't know how to exist anymore. If he hadn't been stuck on this boat, he might have just walked off into the woods and let himself go back to forgetting. That would have been easier. Maybe that wouldn't be what was best for him, but why should he have to care about that? People did things that were bad for them all the time.

He could remember his parents again now, but that meant remembering his father packing him onto the back of a cart and abandoning him in an unfamiliar town just because he was weird and difficult. He'd long since settled on not caring about whatever had become of them. They were dead now, of old age if they'd been lucky, and that was fine.

His own death had taken the edge off of the sting of their abandonment. Maybe it had put things into perspective or maybe it was that little spark of cat he had in him now, but he didn't let it hurt him anymore. Lots of people didn't like him much, but that was fine. There were some foods that were more controversial than others, but that didn't make them bad. They could still be some people's favourite. They could still be loved, just not by everyone.

It was okay to not be loved by everyone.

His favourite memories were the early days with Nim and the rest of their household. Eating entire boxes of brightly coloured cereal, running in parks at night, and taking a nap on Nim's shoulder on the bus ride home after his first and only day of school. Those had been the good days,

Every time his thoughts started to wander beyond that, he dug his sharp little teeth into the inside of his cheek and forced his mind away.

Nobody had ever loved Skye like Nim had and Skye doubted he would ever find something like that again. That wasn't self hate; it was just realistic. He had lived for hundreds of years and it had only happened once, so clearly it wasn't the kind of thing that came easily to him.

Skye wanted to just sit on his own and be sad for hours, for days, but unfortunately he needed to eat quite often. He tried taking a nap up in the crowsnest to put it off, but when he woke up he was even hungrier and it was starting to make him grumpy.

He watched from up in the crowsnest until the man whose head was a skull walked by. "Skull man!"

The skull-headed man looked up, perplexed. "Perry. My name's Perry."

"Okay," Skye said. "Feed me, Perry."

"What would you like?"

"Food."

Skulls could smile, apparently, because Perry did. "Okay. I'll get you some food."

Skye sat down in the crowsnest and let out a sigh. What was he supposed to do about these emotions? He was pretty sure the correct answer was to grieve and move on, but he didn't like that. He wanted them to be fixed. He wanted to rewind time and just live in those few weeks where everything was kind of okay for just a little while. He just wanted Nim.

#

Hamish had been leaning against the railings of the ship, shirtless, when someone pressed up against him from behind. He leant his head back and was unsurprised to see a glint of golden hair.

"You're not allowed to tease me like this when we're on a crowded ship," Duran murmured into Hamish's ear.

Hamish laughed. "Oh, I'm the one teasing here, am I?"