tongue, hanging ominously in the air over his head.
‘Run away?’
‘Yeah.’
‘The thought had occurred to me.’ His second sigh bore not even a hint of contentment. ‘What of you? You seemed eager enough to go chasing the Abysmyth last night.’
‘Well, I wasn’t about to be shown up by you,’ she retorted, less hotly than she thought she ought to. ‘But I’ve had time to think on it.’
‘And now you want to run?’
‘Not really,’ she spoke evenly. ‘I’m merely putting it forth as a possibility. It doesn’t matter much to me.’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ Lenk repeated. She could hear his brow furrowing. ‘How does it not matter? Have you not figured out that we’re all going to die?’
‘Well, if you’re so certain about our fate, it would seem a bit pointless to worry about it. But that isn’t what I’ve been thinking about.’
‘Go on, then.’
‘It just occurs to me,’ her voice grew hesitant, as though she were attempting to soothe an irate beast rather than pose a question, ‘I don’t know why you’re out here.’
Lenk’s response was a wet gurgle as he nearly toppled overboard with the fury of his heaving. The sea giggled a mocking, salt-laden tune as it reached up to slap him with a frothy palm. He pulled back a scowl dripping with resentment.
‘I ask myself that same question,’ he muttered, ‘every Gods-damned day.’
‘That’s not what I mean.’ She spoke more harshly. ‘Why are we out here? Why did you decide to go after the demon if death is so certain?’
‘I believe we covered this last night,’ he replied, ‘with one thousand golden responses.’
‘Don’t you dare pretend to think that I’m an idiot by pretending you’re an idiot, Lenk.’ All traces of sensitivity had given way to ire, anger spurred by his evasion. ‘All the gold in the world won’t do you any good if you’re dead. There’s another reason you’re out here, one you’re not telling me.’
He drew in a deep breath suddenly and, as though he had inhaled the sun, the air seemed to go cold around her. Before her, he went stiff and rigid, his fingers threatening to dig deep furrows in the railings, so white did they become. His voice was low and soft, though not at all gentle, as he hissed through his teeth.
‘Then why would I tell you now?’
Kataria found herself shivering at his response. For an instant, something else spoke from his mouth, another voice that lurked between his words. An echo of an echo resonated in her ears, lingering in the air around his lips and sucking the warmth from the sky with each reverberation.
‘Lenk, that’s not—’
No, no, NO! Her instincts thundered in her brain, drowning out all other sounds. Don’t you apologise to him, don’t you try to make peace. If he wants to be difficult, let him be difficult.
And yet, the voice that seeped out of her mouth was not that of her instinct.
‘Lenk,’ she whispered, ‘does it have to be this way?’
‘What way?’
Let him be difficult . . . and let him remember what it means to be difficult.
Whether it was instinct or simple, vengeful pride that forced her to tighten her grip on his hair, she could not say. Whether it was instinct or the last layer before a shell of quiet resentment gave way to a boiling core of anger that caused her arms to tense, she could not say.
‘This way.’
If it was anything other than a perverse pleasure that caused her to slam his head down against the railing, bringing a smile at the cracking sound that followed, she did not care.
‘Khetashe!’ he screamed, fingering the red blossom under his nose. ‘What was that for?’
When his fist lashed out to catch her jaw, he found nothing but air. A quick glance over his shoulder saw her crawling across the vessel’s meagre deck. Had he energy for anything besides heaving, he might have scrambled for his sword and pursued. As it stood, he merely vomited again.
Asper glanced up as Kataria sprang forwards over the shifting deck. Her eyes went wide at the chorus of curses from Lenk’s lips and she turned a befuddled stare to her companion as she sat down beside her.
‘What was that all about?’
‘Nothing to worry about yet,’ Kataria replied swiftly. With unnerving speed, she forced a smile onto her lips. ‘All’s well here?’
‘I suppose,’ the priestess replied. She noticed the bright red spot upon the railing and frowned. ‘Should I—’
‘No, you shouldn’t,’ Kataria snapped. ‘He’s fine. How are you?’