‘So, that’s it then?’
Shipwright grins, ruffles Shroudweaver’s hair affectionately. The port wind is fresh, ‘That’s it. What were you expecting?’
He shrugs. ‘I don’t know. Some grander farewell. Arissa at least, or Fallon. Maybe Icecaller even.’
Shipwright kisses his cheek. ‘Bless. Were you wanting handkerchiefs and scattered petals?’ She shifts away from him to lean against the harbour wall, back to the sea, squinting up at the sprawl of Hesper. ‘Let’s look at this objectively, huh?’
Shroudweaver grimaces. ‘Must we?’
She nods, a half-smile on her lips. ‘We must. Ice is … recovering. I don’t know what she went through in that mountain, but it’s going to take time.’ She turns towards the sea, takes a lungful of good clean salt. ‘She doesn’t need us for that. I’ve talked with her. She knows where we’re going, how to get word to us.’ She laughs. ‘Enough fat messenger hawks shitting over the streets round here that she can send one wobbling out to the Halls.’
Shroudweaver frowns. ‘I can’t believe we’re leaving so soon. I should stay here. Should help heal them. The damage …’
‘It would kill you,’ she says, a sad twist to her lips. ‘There’s justoneof you.’
‘It’s my job,’ he says. ‘My purpose.’ He slides down the wall.‘I’m a shroudweaver’ – he waves a hand – ‘whatever that means anymore.’
Shipwright slips down next to him, amid the lobster pots and nets, and the other, less picturesque things. ‘Ashroudweaver. One. Fixing this would need the whole Aestering.’
He leans his head on her shoulder. She strokes the thinning strands of his hair, lets kisses run along the sharp angles of his skull. ‘You can’t fix the whole world’s pain.’
‘Fix it?’ His laugh is dry, joyless. ‘I feel like I caused it. Like I missed my chance to stop her. Like I was standing at the top of the hill, just watching the avalanche roll.’
Shipwright shifts uncomfortably, the barnacled stones of the wall sharp at her back, ‘That’s called guilt, love. It’s a human thing.’ She turns, takes his face between her hands. ‘Think about that mountain. Think about what happened. Now, tell yourself, true – could you have stopped it? Didn’t you try? Didn’t you try fit to kill yourself?’
‘I don’t know,’ he whispers. ‘There must have been something I could have done. There’s always something.’
Shipwright kisses him softly on the lips, his skin like warm paper. ‘You did everything you could. I was there.’ She leans into him. ‘I was there at Thell, and I was there at Luss, and I’ve been there all the times in between. Iknowyou. You try. You try so very hard. You want to be more perfect than any of us, and when the world isn’t perfect, when you can’t keepeveryonesafe,allthe time, you think you’ve failed. But the thing is,’ she says, and her voice shakes, ‘you have no idea how many people simply don’t try. Yousucceedby trying.’
Shroudweaver can’t meet her eyes. She shifts until she can see him clearly.
‘Yes. People died. In Thell, at Luss, in the south. Hundreds, thousands of people. I don’t know. But we’re alive, because of you. There are so many others alive because of you. They’re not going to thank you, because people can’t see in front of their own noses half the time. But they’ll go on living their ungrateful little lives, because of you.’
He laughs at that. ‘I love you,’ he says.
‘And I love you too. Which is why I need you to buck up. We’re not done yet, and I can’t be the only one at the tiller.’
He smiles, runs a thumb over her cheek. ‘I hear you, I do. Don’t worry. I’m far from done myself.’
She kisses him again, deeper, more fiercely. ‘We’re always far from done, sweetheart. Why do you think it’s always us in the middle of this shit?’
Shroudweaver laughs. ‘I’d never thought about it that way.’
Birds cut the sky above his upturned head as he looks out over the seawall at the warm curve of the ship catching the rising sun.
‘I always just assumed it was because we were too stupid to let well alone.’
Shipwright snorts. ‘That explains you, maybe.’
‘Are you ready to sail?’
‘I’ve been ready since we docked,’ she grins.
He offers her his hand. ‘West Tide then, out to the Heron Halls and beyond?’
‘Sounds delightful.’
91
