Conversation stopped after Marius had spoken. Unsurprisingly, the insistence of an impending death had killed the mood. If it'd been anyone else, they might've ignored it as hogwash, but hearing the human doomsayer speak in such a manner—the crew knew they couldn't just ignore it.
Walking the last few steps up to the middle cabin, Cleo grew sick with stress. Hope that Marius had somehow been mistaken did little to stem the flow of fear. Rarely was he wrong, but they needed this water. Did it mean death was unavoidable? A personal paradox of denial would keep him occupied worse than a chronic toothache.
Rather than split, the crew slept together in the same cabin. Whereas the passengers from Mont Qerath had opted for the first cabin under their own accord, Cleo and the crew were a different story. Cost not being a factor, the unanimous decision for them to stick together seemed to result from Marius's ominous warning.
The entrance to the cabin was nothing special. Beach sand into a raised door frame that they had to step over. To Cleo's eyes, it looked like the villagers had meant to install a proper pathway by laying down crushed shells lined by indentions and holes meant for wood beams, but the workmen had never gotten around to finishing the project.
The inside revealed a similar theme, an unfurnished space of exposed wood and zero furniture. The lack of beds and chairs wasn't all that surprising, though. Many of the frontier islands shared culture with the southern islands and its cousins, where they preferred mats and hammocks, possibly a result of the high price of wood and a lack of material suitable for bed padding. The rest of the cabin felt unused, almost like a shed.
A light dust covered the floor, and it smelled of sawdust. In the back corner sat a short stack of sleeping mats made of tightly bound wooden reeds strung together with hemp string. Next to that sat a waist tall clay vase.
"Water!" Quinn said, hopping across the room as she snatched up the wooden ladle threaded with a rope connected to the rim of the vase. She drank her fill, gasping after each gulp. "Now that's what I'm talking about! It's good," she said before handing off the ladle to Agis, who stood expectantly next to her.
Each crewmember drank their fill with plenty leftover. Ural went outside to make sure their passengers had a supply of their own. He returned soon after.
"They got water too. It looks like they might settle down for a nap while they wait for the mayor to return with food," he said.
"Now that sounds like an idea," Agis said, retrieving a reed mat from the corner. He dropped it on the ground, creating a small dust cloud.
Ural and Marius followed suit. Ural laid on his side while Marius opted to sit upright with his back to the wall and his legs crossed.
Like it or not, Cleo was in no mood for napping. His mind was firmly planted on the princess and the unknown danger Marius had mentioned.
Had he delivered them to a new type of danger? Out of the sinking boat and into shark-infested waters. His thoughts refused to be quiet. "I'm going for a walk," he announced, hoping he might burn off the nervous energy.
Ural perked up. "What-why? We just got here. Sit down and relax. Plus, you heard your uncle. Something is wrong with this island. It could be dangerous out there."
"Ural's right," Agis said. "Listen to him."
"I understand," Cleo added. "But I can't sit still right now. I'm going."
"Do you want me to come with you?" Quinn asked with a hopeful uptake in tone, though the mat in her hands showed she'd been ready to nap like the rest of the crew.
YOU ARE READING
The Princess and the Blood of Eternity
FantasyA merchant sailing vessel is on the final voyage of the trade season, a journey made more difficult due to the changing weather and the failing of the winds. The world is on the edge of disaster, forests have been harvested to the brink, and the sum...
