My body’s tense, hands curled into fists that I press between my knees to stop them shaking. I’m exhausted from the ebbing of adrenaline, but more than that, too. It’s the heavy shroud of regret. It’s the vulnerability I shared with Tanisira, out on the line and left to rot. It’s the miasma of emotions I’ve cycled through in the past few hours; all concentrated down into this dark, cloudy dread.
“I need some fresh air,” I say and practically barrel out of the cabin, almost careening into the glass table. Neither of us bothers to point out the obvious. She lets me go.
It takes my stomach over an hour to settle, and that’s only because I manage to compartmentalise for my own mental health. Without that, my imagination had been doing its very best to shred my sanity: incinerated animals, children huddled in the dark, a gun pressed to Vee’s forehead.
Pain started to creep in as the adrenaline wore off, and though I had a shot recently, my body aches. I feel wrung out, physically and emotionally, and I wish I could rewind this day and leave Novus with Vee and Beau. Cowardly, yes, but what good can knowing this do?
I take a deep breath and cut that thought off—a lot of good for Tanisira, actually. She deserves to be heard, especially after all my mistakes today; she hasn’t so much as mentioned my particular brand of bullshit.
When I go back to the cabin, I find Tanisira sitting on the sofa with her head in her hands. I pause at the threshold, taking a deep breath, glancing around whilst I gather myself. The lamps are dim, like she couldn’t bear to be in the light anymore. In the corner, her plant droops.
This confident, guilty woman makes a pathetic silhouette. A burst of indignation sets my spine straight, to see Tanisira brought so low for a situation that no one could have foreseen. She’s not wrong to feel responsible, but this—this is beyond grief. This is self-flagellation, a slow dying.
Maybe we have that in common: seeking safety by settling for an unextraordinary life. Whereas I tried to provide as stable an environment as possible for Vee, Tanisira chose to snuff herown flame to prevent burning anyone ever again. Seeing her like this feels like an injustice.
“You went through an extremely shitty thing. Behaving like this, though—wasting your skills, doubting yourself—is not helping anyone, least of all you.”
“I know.”
“What are you doing about it?” I ask.
She looks up as I come to stand between her legs. Like this, she has to crane her neck to meet my eyes. I’ve never seen anyone look so devastated. It takes Tanisira a beat to register my words, and I can see that she’s confused. Because of my question, or because I came back?
“You don’t want responsibility,” I say. “You’re talented, experienced, and confident, but you’re flying a pleasure yacht for rich men. You don’t want responsibility.”
Tanisira flinches but doesn’t look away. Her hands fall to either side of her thighs and if I wasn’t standing in the way, she’d curl in on herself. “I’m terrified. How can I ever trust myself again?”
“Bullshit.”
“It—”
“You’re flying this behemoth with my ten-year-old on board. Do you really think I want to hear that you don’t trust yourself?” There is too much tension in my muscles, electricity buzzing through my body. “Why are you here then?” I snap.
“A ship this advanced, this expensive, basically captains itself. There’s minimal danger—”
“Oh, fuck off.” I scowl and pace away from her. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now except that mysonis onboard, so get your shit together.”
But I hear how I sound, and this isn’t the way I want to talk to her. I feel like an emotional wasteland, but I dredge up a sliver of calmness and lower my volume.
“Tee, it’s fine that you want to atone for fucking up, but you can’t just quit.”
“Marlowe.”
At the threadiness of her voice, I finally turn to face her. When I picture Tanisira, I usually think of shrewd amber eyes, a calm watchfulness that does nothing to soften the pure strength of her.
Right now, she is none of those; she is a wild thing that has been hurt and doesn’t trust the light outside her cage.
“What are yougoingto do about it?”
“How can I fix what’s been done?”
“You try! You don’t bury your head in the sand. You use your talent for good. Do you even know where your old crew is now, or did you just run and never look back?”
For the first time tonight, something like fire sparks behind Tanisira’s amber eyes. It whispers along my skin.
“I would never allow something like that to continue happening.”
That’s pride blooming in my chest. “Right.”
