I’m officially leaving my homeland. This is goodbye.
Chapter 12
The ship rocks in a storm that caught up with us just after leaving port. I’ve been on small ships on our great Dillion Sea at home, but nothing that rolls over waves like this.
I lie sick on a lower bunk. The crew laughs whenever they stagger by. I keep no food down. Mercifully, sleep pulls me under, but I dream I am rocking even then.
“Kenrik.” Someone nudges my shoulder. I grunt and crack an eyelid open. A blur of light in the shape of a human lies on the ground, with her head nestled on the bunk next to mine. “Kenrik,” she moans again.
“Niawen?” I croak. Another dream. I am dreaming of her more and more. I summon the strength to shift my head so I can see into her face. Her pale skin is ashen. Her eyes have dark circles under them. “You look how I feel.”
“That’s because I feel how you feel.” Her fingers brush my forehead.
I close my eyes and grunt a contented sigh. I can feel her. I must be delirious.
“You’ve been tossed in a storm for three days, puking the whole time”—she yanks on a strand of my hair—“as have I. I just got over my morning sickness, and then you give me this.”
“Your morning sickness. I forgot you were . . .”
“Carrying his child.” Niawen moans and tucks her face into the blankets. After a minute, she lifts her head. “You have to focus your light. Use it to overcome this seasickness because somehow I’m feeling it. Please, Kenrik.”
“The High Emrys said we were connected.” I grin. “Because I kissed you.”
Niawen shuts her eyes and exhales. “Of course. I’m so sorry Kenrik.”
“Sokay. I don’t mind.” I find a lock of her hair and smooth it between my fingers. “You’re not really here, are you?”
“No, I’m not.”
“So this is a dream.”
“More or less,” she says. “It’s real to your mind.”
“But you’re safe?”
“I am.”
“Don’t tell me where.” I touch her chin with my knuckles.
“I won’t.”
“I love you, Niawen. I’ll try to stop feeling sick.”
“Thank you. I love you too, Kenrik.”
I pull her chin forward and touch my nose to hers, and then, unable to stop myself, I brush my lips against hers. Such a featherlight sensation, but my mouth falls open, and I sigh.
When I open my eyes, Niawen is gone.
And my heart breaks.
Again. Over and over again.
I haven’t taken a lot of time to study what Niawen’s light is doing to my body. All the knowledge I have is that somehow it honed me into a warrior with heightened senses.
A warrior that’s making my beloved seasick.
Niawen says I have to focus my light. But we’ve gone through this. The light is fused to me, not a ball in my heart-center that can be harnessed.
