Children Of The Sky (The Scripts Of Neptune, Book 2)

Chapter 54

The sun was out the day Crynia prepared to go meet Squill, and the crew was chipper as a flock of sparrows. It was warmer today than it had been all week; a cold front had come through and dropped a healthy amount of snow on the port the night before. All that remained today were a few piles where the shadows fell and the mud the melting ice had made.

Rook kept trying to throw mushy snowballs at her as she helped with the chores around the ship, though she didn't know where he was getting all the snow, and Min kept following her around, wagging his tail and eating the remnants when she dodged and the snowballs splattered on the deck. By the time the ship was cleaned up, her shirt was soaked, but she'd managed to find Rook's stash and enact revenge with startling accuracy as he fled from her.

She was still grinning when she went to her room and changed her shirt, reaching into her pocket to check that the slip of paper Squill had given her with the address on it hadn't been damaged. Crynia had long since memorized it, but she kept the note as a reminder anyways. It excited her every time she thought about it; she'd barely been able to sleep last night, even with Jack there.

Gods, today was the day. Her hands were shaking as she tied her hair back and smoothed the wrinkles from her shirt, then just stood for a while and took in what this day meant. How long had she dreamed of this, of getting her memories back, of knowing again who she was and why? It scared her--terrified her, really--but oh, how she wanted it anyway. Today meant answers.

She paused before putting the slip of paper with the address on it back in her pocket, looking at it and rubbing it between her thumb and forefinger. Jack was in town with Mick and his family, and she didn't know when he'd be back--she'd taken Squill's advice and hadn't told him she was leaving. But it sat wrong with her not to say anything. It was dangerous, probably, too.

Her eyes went to the book that sat on the table by her door. One of Rook's novels. Lifting it up, she set the address on the table underneath and left just the edge peaking out. Enough to catch someone's eye, if they were looking.

The chilly sea air was sweet in her nose and on her skin when she went back up on deck, and Rook saluted her from the rigging where he half-perched, half-laid to soak up the sunlight while he could. No one stopped her as she went down the gangplank, nor did they ask where she was going. With a last glance over her shoulder, she ran the address over once more in her mind and strode into town.

***

It was good to see Mick's family again, and Bel appreciated the break when Jack and her husband allied with the elder children and took over running the bakery for the morning. Jack ended up covered in flour, courtesy of Gill; the four-year-old toppled into his father's arms laughing after he threw it at Jack and saw the mess it made. Mick had picked him up and tickled him until he couldn't breathe as punishment.

Rook gave him a questioning look when they returned to the Zalviore and he saw Jack's white dusting. "You look like the snow decided you needed a coating too," he said with a grin, climbing down the rigging and walking over as Jack stripped off his soiled shirt. Gods, Rook was growing again, it looked like. He was going to be bloody tall.

"Gill decided I needed an immersive experience at the bakery," Jack replied, bemused, and Mick chuckled as he swung himself below deck. Jack watched him go, then looked around. The ship was in good shape; everyone had done their jobs well while he was gone--as usual. "Where's Squill? He's usually out when the sun is."

Rook squinted as he looked around, shielding his eyes. "Dunno. He was around earlier. Might've gone into town."

"Huh." Shaking out his shirt and finding the flour still wasn't gone, Jack wadded it up and left Rook to go to his quarters and find another one.