Page 18 of Palaces and other Prisons
Ul was not ready to share his thoughts with anyone. “I am trying to share where we are, the same way he shared where theoil platformstood.”
Which was in the middle of the ocean.
The librarian spread the map over the table, and Dawson was quick to locate Felloi even though he’d only seen the map once. “Felloi,” he said confidently.
Ul nodded.
A ship had been sent to make contact with their nearest trading partner. It would not take long for them to return. Five days in each direction, seven if the weather and wind were against them.
Dawson tore a little of the rough paper off. He drew the rough shape of Felloi and placed it in the ocean of the Nosemen map.
Ul didn’t need to understand his words to understand what Dawson meant. And if he knew that the island was in the wrong world, Ul wanted to find out how he knew.
CHAPTER 14
It wasn’t the tone of Ul’s voice; it was the slight change in his expression and posture that made Dawson think he’d said the wrong thing. Or done the wrong thing by placing the island in the middle of the map from when the Norsemen had found the island.
When they’d arrived, they’d still had all the things they’d taken from towns and monasteries along England’s coast. While he’d been to museums and such on school excursions, he was getting to see a piece of history up close. He wanted his phone so he could search up if there were stories of missing Viking ships…or if Vikings had returned home and told tales of strange lands with blue-skinned people.
It seemed ridiculous, and two weeks ago, he would have laughed, but he’d seen the videos online of what was happening in the rest of the world. The scientists talked of accidentally collapsing the mythological into the human world, but they hadn’t explained how people had traveled between the two worlds before the collapse.
Was it accidental?
Or were there portals?
Not that the portals mattered now, as they’d go nowhere.
Ul canceled library time after the map incident, and Dawson spent the rest of the afternoon following him around. And the soldier followed him. What the soldier made of the books and maps in the library, Dawson had no idea.
But every time he stopped talking, Ul asked him to continue. Or motioned for him to continue. While Ul changed, Dawson was offered a drink and a piece of fruit from the king’s snack table. It was the best fucking apple he’d ever eaten. It was like the fancy heirloom ones that people grew themselves, crisp and bursting with flavor, not like the watery, tasteless ones in the supermarket.
So when Ul stepped out of what Dawson assumed was his bedroom, he made sure to sing the praises of the apple compared to the ones he ate at home. He spent the next five minutes labeling every piece of fruit that he recognized. There were a few that he didn’t, and he still wasn’t too sure about the berries, even though Ul ate a few.
The clothes Ul wore were less formal, though a higher quality than Dawson was wearing. This time, two additional soldiers followed them as they made their way down winding stairs and eventually through a gate that opened to a path that led to a beach. It wasn’t much of a beach. Only ten meters long by a meter wide and covered in rocks.
Ul sat on one of those large rocks and tugged off his shoes. He undid his cloak and left it on the rock before walking over the sand to stand in the waves. Dawson didn’t know what he was supposed to do.
Did he stand in the water, or wait with the soldiers?
He figured it was best to wait until he was invited, though he half expected Ul to strip off his tunic and dive into the water.
It was the first time Dawson had seen the king without a cloak on. Like the librarian, four tentacles grew out of his back. They were quite different from the ones that formed his armsand legs, as the ones on his back were more flexible, and they had little suckers. At the moment, they hung limply to where his ankles should be. But there were no obvious anklebones, just as there were no obvious elbow joints.
The librarian had touched him briefly when drawing his attention to something, but the librarian’s freckles hadn’t changed color; they had remained dark unless he was excited, and then they had become a pale yellow.
Did their freckles change color depending on mood?
He was half tempted to turn around and touch the blue soldier to see what would happen, but he didn’t fancy a sword to the gut either.
One of Ul’s back tentacles lifted and beckoned him forward. Dawson glanced at the three soldiers to make sure that the instruction was for him. The man who’d been following him around all day waved him forward.
Dawson walked over, the sand cold and wet beneath his feet. He gathered his cloak around him so it wouldn’t get wet, but unlike Ul, he wasn’t willing to take it off. The breeze was too cold for that.
He stood to the side and slightly back from the king, the way others did. Unfortunately, he’d chosen the side of the king’s injured arm, but it was too late to change.
Ul turned his head to look at him, and spoke softly as though this was a private conversation, even though Dawson didn’t understand a single word. Beneath the words, there was a tiredness and an unexpected longing. Though Dawson wasn’t sure he was interpreting the king’s mood correctly.
One of his tentacles brushed against his arm, drawing Dawson forward and closer. While they touched, the freckle circles on his tentacles changed from inky blue to pink. The freckles on Ul’s cheeks that traced over his ears and slid down his neck did the same.
