Page 132 of Tempest

Valerian grinned and leaned alongside her, forearms flat on the rail. Up close, he smelled of salt and sweat, neither unpleasant. Cat glimpsed the inked stars that were not stars again, the black dots set at random. They would have looked like freckles at a passing glance.

“Save me another hand of Red River, and you may stay out on deck as long as you like,” he said.

Cat wrenched her eyes from his skin and looked back to the sunset, squinting against the brilliant glare. “I can agree to that.” She sighed. “I wonder if anyone else in the world beholds anything more beautiful at this exact moment.”

The pirate captain was silent for a long moment, unmoving. Cat felt the same, her very speech captured by the swiftly setting sun. And the heat rolling off the man next to her.

“It would be quite the contest to best a sight such as this,” he finally said, his voice rough and low.

She could not help but turn to find Valerian already staring at her. His eyes caught the sun, turning tempest green to shimmering gold. It made Cat’s heart feel like a struck match, igniting in her chest.

“I can understand why so many men believe in gods,” Cat said, looking away again in hopes he did not see the flush creeping across her cheeks. “What else could make such a sky?”

He made a humming sound, like a man balancing an equation. “Some might say moisture in the air. The right angle of the clouds. Our position, the time of year.”

Cat laughed outright. “And what do you say, Valerian Kane?”

“I know no god but the Lyrian Sea,” the captain offered, without any mirth or jest. But filled with resolve. “And she is quite the artist.”

To that, there could be no argument. Cat returned to her viewing, content to watch the sky shift in color and depth, worlds upon worlds layered overhead. Everything seemed to hold its breath, even the gulls in the sky going quiet.

But for the crew of the Covenant still diligent and dutiful in their endless tasks.

“You should let the crew pause their work to watch,” Cat said. Nearby, Ratter the cabin boy hauled buckets below.

Valerian turned back to the horizon, staring at the inscrutable point where sky met sea. “This is hardly the first sunset they’ve ever seen.”

She blanched. “You’re saying this is normal?”

“Above average.” He shrugged, winking at her. It felt like being teased, but not unpleasantly. “And nothing compared to the stars.”

“Ah,” she replied, unable to stop herself from glancing at his forearm again. The black stars—islands, not stars—stood out sharply against the lines of muscle and pearly scars. “I shall be sure to check when night falls.”

His crooked grin flashed. “On second thought, perhaps I should confine you to your cabin again. Can’t have you robbing the rest of my crew.”

Cat bit her lip to hide a smile, quietly proud of herself and her skills at the card table. But it was not like a lady to gloat.

“Winning isn’t robbery,” she said neatly. Then she remembered herself, and the ship she stood upon. What it did, what it would continue to do. Her tone sharpened. “Besides, I don’t think it’s stealing if you steal from a thief.”

The harsher tone snapped something in Valerian, and he straightened up, pushing back from the gunwale.

“I shall keep that in mind,” he said, his smile gone. Then he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Watch the horizon. If you see a green flash, then you’ll know for certain.”

Cat blinked, the bright spots of the sun still blooming behind her eyes. “Know what?”

When her vision cleared, Valerian was a few feet away. But he walked backwards, his attention still fixed on her. Again, his tempest eyes caught the light, filling with gold.

“That this exact moment is the most beautiful in all the world.”

Cat did not know what it felt like to be struck by lightning, but she imagined it felt a little like this. Something buzzed beneath her skin, and she half expected thunder to crack overhead, splitting the paintbrush sky.

Valerian did not linger. With a nod, he retreated across the deck to climb up the mainmast with shocking ease. His long arms passed hand over hand, the muscles in his back rippling as he hauled himself up into the sails.

For a moment, Cat forgot the brilliant sunset, following the silhouette of the captain instead. Then his figure disappeared into the crow’s nest and the buzzing sensation faded, sending Cat crashing back to reality. She swallowed hard and turned into the soft breeze, looking back to the horizon where the golden circle of the sun distorted, wavering as it began to sink beneath the waves.

Despite the glare, she watched every waning moment, a shallow breath caught in her chest.

She exhaled at the briefest glimmer of green.