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SOCIETY FOR THE PROTECTION OF NATURAL MAGIC

Office of the Director

This reply has been generated automatically by a standing correspondence charm. Director Berman is currently away from her office and has not read your correspondence. She will respond personally upon her return.

Amrita Berman Director, Society for the Protection of Natural Magic

NINETEEN

SEEKING POLARIS

A few days later, on an evening when the surrounding seas beyond the storm appeared almost pleasant, Amrita spied a second ship.

It was holding steady off the stern, far enough away that she might have dismissed it as a low-flying bird or a trick of the light. She watched it for a long time. The Tufan’s storms usually kept other vessels at greater distance. But this one was taking its chances.

Without a telescope to look through it was difficult to make out very much. She formed a fist and held it to her eye. Looking through a tiny hole created by her curled forefinger, her vision was sharp enough to better see the shape of other ship on the horizon. When the light was right, she thought she could almost make out a figure at the rail. She turned back toward the galley and went down to start supper.

She did not mention the other boat to Raya, just in case the pirate’s wrath at being followed spelled doom for an innocent party. She did not wish to anger him, even inadvertently. Not now when they were starting to get along so much better. Later, at dinner, Raya slid onto the bench beside her and laid a hand on shoulder. His hand was warm, and the contact was not unwelcome. She laid her own hand on top of his for a moment and he smiled at her. Then he brushed her hair back behind her ear before sharing a bit of news.

“I think we are being followed again. Callimachus, that son of a mummy. He wants my atlas back. His agents will be sorry when they see the storm I’m spinning up for them.”

As warm as Raya’s touch had been, the thought of another deadly storm wreaking havoc on unsuspecting ships gave her a chill. She knew the pirate was merely doing what he had to do to protect himself, but his words left her feeling sick.

They were about sixteen days out from Alexandria, by Amrita’s estimate. She had been trying to keep track of time. She’d made an argument about the relationship between a culture’s writing system and their ideas about permanence. Raya had disagreed with her and teased her with riddles as ancient as the Sphinx. This seemed to be his favorite pastime of late.

They were friends now, sharing every meal and having long discussions about the nature of life, people, and even the nature of magic. Amrita had come to admire Raya’s quick wit and confidence. It was impossible not to be moved by his beauty. He knew his own mind and understood the way the world worked. He did not lack resources, which made him decisive and opinionated about everything. He was not obdurate, however. He had no problem acknowledging his own shortcomings. He readily admitted it when there were gaps in his skills or knowledge.

And he was generous. There was nothing on the ship that he didn’t seem eager to share, save the atlas. She had never known a man quite like him. Smart, humble and handsome too. She wondered why he was alone on this ship. What had driven him here?

“I cannot cook and I love talking about books with you,” Raya told her one night. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “You’ve spoiled me with your cooking and your company, Amrita. Perhaps you’d consider staying on board a bit longer?”

There was a longing in his eyes that Amrita recognized. It was a look that she’d seen in the mirror for decades. She knew what it was. Even when surrounded by people, running the world’s largest magical agency, she had been lonely. Right up until the moment when Buffalo had stormed into her office and back into her life.

Another life. Buffalo wasn’t a part of her life in this here and now, Raya’s warm touch reminded her. He turned her hand over and stroked along her palm and then her wrist.

“Are you thinking about it?” he asked, through long thick lashes.

She was. How could she deny herself the allure of long lazy days of scholarship and friendship? A belly filled with stew and good wine. It occurred to her that she and Raya had not argued once since he’d dragged her onto his boat. As unwilling as her arrival on The Tufan had been, her days since had been anything but unpleasant.

She was silent for a moment before answering Raya. He held her gaze, and she felt a shared sizzle, as something electric passed between the two of them. It matched the energy of the bolts and flickers forming in the charged air that surrounded the ship.

“For how long do you picture this arrangement lasting?” Amrita asked, tentatively. She knew, of course, that The Tufan would sink one day, but she wasn’t certain when that day would come. It might be months, or even years away.

“For as long as you’d like…” Raya reached out his hand and touched Amrita’s lower lip with his thumb gently, tenderly, a test. His touch increased the static in the air and in her mind. All the molecules around her were racing, colliding and buzzing, but she was frozen. She couldn’t bring herself to move.

“But we haven’t spoken about⁠—”

She’d been about to say they hadn’t spoken about who either of them truly were. They hadn’t spoken about the future, or where the ship was headed. They hadn’t acknowledged the presence of the Fates, themselves, and she hadn’t seen the blue book he’d called his atlas again since they’d left the great library. Perhaps it was in the hold with all the other cargo. Which was another thing that they had not discussed.

Amrita was about to say all of this. She had to. But before she could get the words out, Raya leaned decisively across the table, cupped her chin in his hand and kissed her on the lips. It was a brief kiss. Briefer, bolder and sweeter than any other first kiss she could remember.

There hadn’t been many of those in her lifetime. Funny thing about being the director. It tended to put most men off. But not Raya Tufan.

Her head was spinning with the sweet surprise of it. And yet…

“I’m so sorry, I can’t—” Amrita jumped back, even as she was fighting the urge to lean in. Her cheeks were burning and her lips were tingling, like she’d just eaten a chili pepper. It was a pleasant sort of burning that left her craving more, even though she knew it probably wasn’t going to be good for her.

The sweet, spicy and slightly intoxicating smell of Raya lingered in her nostrils, pulling her back toward him. But as she swayed and tottered for a moment, she had the sensation of being yanked back by an invisible string. Almost as if her time travel wards were still working, on this doubly warded ship. It was just long enough for Amrita to catch her breath and gain control over her swirling senses.