“Why?” she asked, turning around as soon as they were in the room. Reven hastily shut the door and tried not to sigh in exasperation.
“Because… because it isn’t proper to go without them. It’s… distracting.”
She made a face, clearly not understanding him. He shook his head and gathered the clothing she’d been given, shoving it into her arms. She looked at it with a frown, then shared that frown with him.
“Please, just put them on. We’ve still got at least six more days until we reach Avir. I’m wearing clothing. Everyone wears clothing.”
“You are not,” she countered. He frowned at her, looking down at the scarred tattoo on his chest, realizing he wore no shirt.
“You’re… ok, so I have pants on. I’ve got the important parts covered,” he argued. “You need to do the same.”
To his great dismay, she put the trews on but not the tunic. It took over an hour to explain things to her and another to cajole her into the silk material. It was too big on her but it was, at the very least, soft, and it properly covered what needed covering. They remained below deck for a bit longer, finally resurfacing shortly after noon. The sun beat down on them, the wind gone from the sails. It was unsettling. Reven shivered despite the heat and looked to the sky. There were no clouds, the sky an eerie gray-green. Not a single bird flew in the sky, not a single fish swam beneath them.
“You’ve got that look, mate,” Liam said, coming to stand at Reven’s shoulder. Reven peered at the sky but remained silent. The hairs on his arms stood on end.
“Something’s coming,” Reven finally said.
“Wha’?” Liam asked, looking to the sky. Reven had no answer.
***
The voyage across the Kiradon Ocean to the floating city of Avir drained all the life from those aboard the Persephone’s Dawn, especially in the crux of the maelstrom that roiled above them. The ship was small, in ill repair, and pitched at any inkling of a breeze, which meant that it rolled and crashed through the waves created by the miasmic storm around them. Reven despised every single bit of it. His stomach roiled any time he looked away from his toes. What was not nailed to the ground rolled back and forth or slid across the rotting planks, knocking into them any time they smashed into a wave or banked against a swell. The safest place on the ship was in a corner, which was exactly where the tirsai bard opted to stay. Besides, the two walls offered a modicum of support, so he could at least imagine he was on solid ground.
“Roe,” he groaned from the corner. Liam ignored him, holding tightly to a rope that was strung across the deck for stability. “Roe!”
Nothing. Reven peered at the duende man’s back and snatched up a loose cog rolling about. He bounced it in his palm once before lobbing it at Liam’s back. It struck its target, making the other olven man shoot straight up in his spot only to totter over the rope with the next pitch of the ship. He landed rather unceremoniously onto the floorboards beneath him with curses and snarls aimed at the bard. Reven smirked.
“The bloody hells ya do tha’ for!” Liam barked, rubbing the spot on his back where the cog hit him. Reven only smirked more. “Prat.”
“If you’d found anything smaller, we’d be rowing ourselves to Avir,” Reven complained. The women remained silent but they both turned a glare on Liamas well. Ajana was not helped by the poor stability of the ship and Serai had never been on a ship. The journey was difficult for them. The storm made things worse. The sky was blacker than pitch, clouds roiling like churning waves in the sky. Rain flooded the deck above and sloshed its way down to the lower level where Reven and his companions hid.
Staying below deck in the tiny hole he’d been given to sleep in was no better than staying on deck especially with two more bodies crammed in it. He could feel the rumble of thunder in his chest and heard the whip-crack of lightning until it felt as if his eardrums would explode. It was more than just a maelstrom across the sea, however. Reven felt it at his core, deep in his bones, down to his soul. He saw the same discomfort in Serai’s face, though she hid it well; hid it better than Reven.
“Next time ya can pay fer transport then, yeah?” Liam threw back. Reven scoffed at him, shifting uncomfortably in his corner.
“I do pay for the transportation. The money we have comes from my shows and… whoring, I believe, is the word you used for what you contract me out for,” Reven practically spat. He was not wrong, either. A good deal of their wealth came from performances - public or private - that the bard took on. Liam and Ajana were good at their work, but thieving only worked if you did not get caught and found a decent cache of goods to steal. Contract work had its faults, too. They’d made a decent living before he came along; with him in tow, they made a killing.
“Shu‘ up,” Liam grumbled. Another booming roll of thunder drown most of the slur out, making Reven and Serai visibly wince. “S’wrong with ya?”
“Nothing,” Reven lied, shutting his eyes tightly to the sudden agony ripping through his head. Another bang of thunder brought Reven’s hands to his ears, his entire body tensing. The sound of the rain was deafening, the wind howling with such force that he was positive the tiny little dingy would be torn apart. They would be nothing but flotsam by morning if the rage of the storm had its way with them.
