unraveled

chapter 13

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          Nia walked in polka-dot pyjamas around Esterham with a newly-found pistol she proudly kept to her hip and some knives and a clinking bag full of jusar. It wasn't a lot, but she wasn't complaining. She had a newly busted lip that she kept toying with her tongue. A single copper coin danced between her fingers, momentarily catching the glint of moonlight light, shining like a star trapped in a fist.

          Night had settled in like thick, syrupy, honey. She could see the new born rays of a new day in the distance as she sighed. The streets slept, the only noises were the quiet patter of little rat feet who dined in the sewers and the rustle of petals oozing their sweet, nectary scent to dance with the star-incensed air. Lovebells, and blue carnations and pink faisies and buttercups fluttered to and fro in the wind.

          She had made her decision about what to do next, it had only taken one whole day of wandering through all of Esterham like a lunatic to find an answer, but it was answer enough. Stones beneath her feet, turned into wooden planks, the aroma of flowers into the sick smell of fish. Nia had always despised fish. Slippery, flopping beasts unable to carry her weight to soar across the water. Truly. She had tried.

          She idly walked aboard an empty deck and climbed the rigging to the crow's nest. Nia sat with her legs dangling beneath her and her arms hugging the railings. She bundled up her cloak and kept it next to her. Cool breeze ran under her cloth, chilling her to the bone, soothing her scars. The bay was quiet tonight, shyly swaying from side to side singing a lullaby to the skies above. Nia wondered how the tea party went. Had the boy come behind her, looking for her? Or had he ignored it? Nia couldn't tell what she wanted her answer to be.

          She thought about the last time she had sat here, sailing to Esterham. She was still the same person she was a month ago. Terrified, broken, missing. Change had always been her friend, but not the good kind. Not the kind of change that brought small pennies and long lost love with it. The kind of change that broke, that altered permanently. It didn't switch your tapestry of fate to a different direction, it cut through it and pulled at the seams.

          Nia stood up and braced herself on the railing, half sitting on it. The dragon on the deck below seemed to anxiously look up at her, ready to swallow her whole if she fell. She wondered if she did fall. Things would be so much easier. He would be happy. She would be happy. And maybe if Ma was dead, she could meet her again. And she could meet her again. Her honey girl, her monster, her Ailen. She missed her. So damn much.

          "What if I jus-?" she muttered to herself leaning over the railing.

          "You won't," said a voice. The crow's nest creaked.

         She raised an eyebrow. He shrugged.

         "Do it. I'll let you fall. Heck, I'll even push you off the edge."

          Nia looked around calmly. Her hair moved around her, strands poking into her eyes. She refused to move them.

          Acelius stood with his hands in his pockets. His eyes were fixed onto the horizon, the sea breeze moving his hair in his face. She looked at him. Clear glasses, clear eyes, gold hair and a clear smile. He was drunk. The smell of cheap bourbon rolled off him, clinging to the white cotton blouse he wore, hidden within the ruffles on it, like waves lapping upto shore. It loosely hund around his figure, openly revealing his smooth chest that Nia consciously avoided looking at. His rings gleamed like teeth in the night, silver and gold twirled around his fingers, jades and rubies jutting out like affluent moles. He wore olive green pants underneath, tucked into boots. He was glass made human, see-through, open, reflective. He showed back to her all that she was. Nothing hidden. That's a change, she thought. People who didn't hide behind masks and be something they weren't were rare, and Acelius was rare. He wasn't ashamed of who he was. He was stupid and dumb and suicidal and hot, but he didn't hide it. He was an open book, a story written to be read and that confused Nia thoroughly.