Basilisk Eyes

Chapter 54: Lieutenant James Holman

Harry's sudden stop had jolted Gemma and she stumbled a bit. Harry steadied her. Shannon and Aminah jostled into them from behind.

Gemma drew a question mark on the back of his hand. Harry could hear the people behind them, who were stuck in the corridor behind them, asking what was going on. He heard Tony say, "What's the holdup?"

Gemma tugged on his hand, and he stepped forward letting her lead him out onto the deck more. He felt a little shaky in his knees, and he muttered, "I don't want to go down the gangplank."

He could hear the paper fluttering in the humid breeze, but was pretty sure that Gemma hadn't seen it because she didn't acknowledge it at all. They stopped and Harry could feel the railing at his back. He reached out for it—his fingertips gliding over the well-worn wood. He was a little surprised that it felt so real after Healer Jordan's explanation of where they were—inside a painting that was also the memories of several wixen.

How does it feel so solid and timeworn?

He'd felt a little nauseous ever since they came through the portrait and was glad to be out on the deck with air moving around, but the rocking of the ship wasn't helping settle his stomach. He did want to be on land, but he just didn't want to go down that gangplank. Going up it was hard enough, but he had been leaning into it. Going down, he felt certain he'd just step off the edge... into nothingness as far as he was concerned.

Gemma drew the question mark on his hand again. Harry was embarrassed, he could feel the heat seeping into his neck and snaking up to his ears.

"The gangplank," he stopped. "I don't want to go down the gangplank," he said, his head heavy. Gemma stroked his hand in a soothing way.

He heard Aminah's staff and guessed that Shannon had followed them over.

"What's going on?" Shannon and Aminah asked almost in unison.

Harry groaned. He really didn't want an audience. They waited patiently, though, and the silence was almost as hard to bear, "I just don't want to go down that gangplank again."

"Oh, yeah," Aminah sighed, sounding relieved. "Maybe there's another way down?" she wondered.

Harry could hear Shannon and Gemma signing to each other and wondered what they were saying.

They are probably talking about me, he felt the warmth of shame spread across his chest and neck.

His legs were trembling and he was afraid they weren't going to support him. He slid down the deck wall to the weathered floorboards. He traced the spiraling grain of a knot beneath his fingers. His heart was threatening to push out of his chest. He listened to the sounds of Gemma and Shannon's conversation. He wondered why Shannon didn't speak out loud when she was signing to Gemma. He felt rankled and unsettled; inexplicably annoyed with Gemma for talking to Shannon.

"Harry?" Aminah said from above him.

"I'm down here," he told her, unable to conceal his irritation.

Aminah's staff poked his foot gently.

"Oh, sorry. There you are. I thought maybe you'd left," Aminah said as she used her staff to make sure the spot next to him was open and tapped her staff three times on the deck to collapse it.

She seemed determined to ignore his prickliness. He could hear her hands on the wood railing and then she lowered herself down carefully next to him, surprising him when she fell against him momentarily as the boat rolled, then righting herself.

They sat quietly for a bit. It was really hot. Harry was sweating and he wasn't even moving. He pulled off his jumper and stuffed it in his staff.

Harry could feel people's footsteps through the floorboards beneath him and turned his head in the direction of someone approaching their little group.