Page 96 of His Noble Ruin

If I’d been a halfway decent person, I wouldn’t have felt the thrill his words gave me. “Let me guess,” I said, surprised at the lack of emotion that bled into my voice. “You haven’t spent much time missing your mother, have you?”

“A bit more than I would’ve expected, to be honest.”

“Maybe being away from her has made you aware of her virtues.”

Graham reached over to tighten the mainstay. “I’m afraid it seems to be the opposite. I wonder now if she was wrong about everything, even what I always believed to be true. Still, when I think of the way I left her. . .” He smiled, but this time the expression carried more sadness than joy. More weariness than amusement.

“Time to take a break.” I stepped down from the bow and took the book from his hands. “Go catch a miniature fish or something.”

Graham looked down at my feet. “Bryn, look!”

I followed his gaze to the hatch. Water bubbled up from the cracks, spilling out onto the deck.

“We have a leak!” I shouted. “Quick, help me.”

Only then did I notice how low the hull sat in the water. I opened the hatch. It was almost completely full, our barrels floating in seawater. Apparently, the storm was still doing its damage.

“Where’s your bag?” asked Graham. “Can we bail it out again?”

“It wouldn’t last,” I said. “We have to repair it.”

“How?” he asked.

I looked up at him, ready to eat my own words. “We have to stop at Ash Island.”

* * *

The sailboatgradually sank lower as the day went on until we were forced to sacrifice one of the water barrels to bail out the seawater. But it hardly helped. The water came in as fast as we took it out.

By evening, the single flat-topped peak of Ash Island loomed like a threat. Its black shores glittered with coarse particles that reflected the low golden sun. We directed the boat toward a small cove.

“It’s beautiful,” said Graham.

It might’ve been, but I couldn’t see it, not when I was dominated by fear.

“We need to look for some materials to patch the boat,” I said. “And we should really get more water.”

We hit the black sand and jumped out, pulling the boat as far as possible onto the shore. We tipped it on its side. Water seeped out of a small crack in the hull.

“There’s the culprit,” I said. I hoped stuffing it with resin or clay would be enough—and that we could find some. It only needed to hold for another day or two to get us to Tramore, so I’d take my chances with what we could find close to shore. I meant what I said to Graham. Ireallydidn’t want to meet the outlaws here.

“We’ll have to stay close to the boat,” I said. “It would be idiotic to leave the most valuable object for miles unattended.”

“Should we split up?” asked Graham. “That way, I could search for water and you could stay close to get . . . whatever it is you need.”

“Splitting up doesn’t seem like a good idea.” I shook my head, terrified at the thought. I didn’t want to separate, but it would get us off this island faster if we did. Or it would kill us faster. One of the two.

“Will you miss me?” asked Graham, his eyes sparkling like the sand he stood on.

I wouldn’t answer that question with honesty. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just don’t want to lose my peace offering.”

His eyes peered through me as if he were starting to see straight through my lies. Then he hoisted the barrel under his arm and stepped back. “I’ll be careful if you will.”

“But—” I wanted to argue and make him stay with me, but the light would fade soon, and we needed to get off this island. “Fine. But if you haven’t found any water by the time the sun sets, come straight back. And take this.” I picked up my bag and handed him a knife.

He took it, keeping the sheath on the blade, and turned away hesitantly. When he spoke, his voice carried a hint of a question. “Goodbye.”

My fears almost pushed me to say more than I wanted, but I resisted the urge and smiled. “No need for goodbyes. You’ll be back in no time.”

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