Aqueous Passage. Krystyna Faroe
the stares of the curious room occupants.
He passed the interested eyes and took a chair next to Blackthorn muttering to himself, “Self-absorbed asinine Citans believe their size can overcome everything.” He looked up to see both Blackthorn and Jackson smiling until they too quickly looked away. Jackson cleared his throat.
“You spending the night here?” He queried, his eyebrows going up and down in a clowning fashion. “’Coz we only got two beds and that means two of us will either have to get real cozy or one of us will be sleeping on the floor.”
“I’ve slept on harder surfaces,” responded Oak. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Sure thing, I prefer beds myself.” Jackson gave a brief nod to Blackthorn who smiled back and quickly squashed it when he saw the glare from Oak.
“Not in a very good mood tonight?”
Oak gave Jackson the same glare as he’d given Blackthorn to show he was done with his annoying conversation only to be rewarded with a laugh.
“You sure have more expressions than most of the ladies I’ve been around and they’ve come up with some real rip your head off stares I can tell you.”
Oak ignored him and looked out of the window to take his attention elsewhere. There was nothing to see but black, the night had descended quickly as usual leaving nothing to do other than partake in games, conversations or go to sleep. Oak didn’t feel like being involved in any of them. He sulkily stared out into the darkness whilst Blackthorn and Jackson became involved in a game of checkers.
The board had been roughly hewn out of the thick bark of a tree and black squares crudely drawn onto it. Black and grey pebbles were used as checkers and Oak couldn’t help but think how lucky the clan were to have the antiquities that Sequoia had found years ago.
He wondered where Sequoia was now, what he was doing; perhaps he was helping start another clan elsewhere. He wished he understood why he’d left; it still made him angry to think he’d abandoned them all. They’d built something good and Sequoia had left it behind, his reason for leaving hadn’t been good enough for Oak. Oak had sullenly gone over their goodbyes many times.
He’d trusted and respected Sequoia, he’d confided in him, more so than he had with Fern and she knew too much about him, Sequoia had known even more. He’d been like an elder brother even though they were of the same age; he’d always seemed older, more wise and confident.
They’d never doubted anything he’d said, always believed in him, even when he’d said he had to leave. Oak had realized later that Sequoia’s reasons for going hadn’t added up and for the first time since meeting Sequoia he’d doubted him and his words. A long time had passed, all of them had believed he would one day return but Sequoia never had, and Oak had given up on that hope, even if everyone else had not.
He looked at Blackthorn laughing as he took a checker over several of Jackson’s and Jackson pulled a face as he threw his arms up in the air in acceptance of his loss. Blackthorn had never stopped believing they would see Sequoia again. Oak wondered which of them were right.
**********
Denver was going over the plan he was forming. He’d left an annoyed Oak with Jackson. The thoughts he’d sent him had been quite blue in their nature and it made him laugh yet again to think how much Oak had changed. Even with the change he couldn’t involve him in what he was preparing, as much as he trusted Oak he didn’t want to jeopardize his chances of controlling the situation should he fail. Losing one mind reader was bad enough but to lose two was plain stupid. No, he needed Oak safe.
He mulled over his thoughts again, trying to fine tune them to a more definite course of attack. Attack, not quite, it was more subtle than that but would it work? Rancor may be power hungry but he was clever and skilled in deviation, more so than the rest of them. Trying to outwit him would be difficult but he did have the upper hand; he would know what was going on in that foul mind, no matter how disgusting it was he would not break the tie once he’d formed it.
Walking through the corridors he wondered where a vile creature like Rancor would want to spend his evenings. He knew he would have eaten, as everyone else had finished their evening meal long ago and Rancor never ate with any of them. The captain had a room where he and his officers ate, so Denver assumed that was where Rancor was spending most of his time. He just had to find it.
He was wandering down a corridor that he knew he wasn’t given access to when he sensed a presence. It wasn’t threatening, it was curious. He turned to see a petite girl watching him from a doorway. Her heart shaped face eyed him with interest; large brown eyes, almost cartoon like in the way they were oversized for her face, mesmerized him in their lack of fear.
“You must be one of the Citans?” Her voice was soft and soothing, coaxing like a lover.
He walked toward her entranced and keen to hear more of her words, taking in the waving locks of brown hair that fell upon her clavicle, washing upon the bony crest as if it were a rocky ridge at the edge of the sea. “Yes I am.”
He stopped before her, towering her by at least two feet.
The calm gentle eyes held his. “Why are you here?”
“I’m searching for someone.”
“Someone?” Her eyes were melting like swirling toffee, sticky and enticing they drew him in.
He didn’t reply and she said no more for a moment as they both seemed to sway in a strange dance of souls. Their eyes were locked but their bodies did not move, yet he had the sensation of waltzing, a thrilling sensation of whirling about with her in his arms. His senses heightened by the feel and smell of her, his skin tingled and goose bumps began to rise on his arms even though they were covered by the shirt he wore.
“Who is it you seek?” Her voice hovered over him until it washed upon him in a glorious quenching of his yearn for a soul mate.
“Rancor,” he replied with no thought to what he was saying or its consequences.
A slight raise of her eyebrows momentarily made him stagger but the eyes drew him in once more. “Why do you seek Rancor?”
“Sabrina! Stop!” The strong words reverberated through his head.
Denver stumbled backwards as Captain Rumello grabbed hold of him and pulled him aside.
“Go into your room now Sabrina or I will throw you off this ship at the next stop.”
The brown eyes suddenly deepened in colour and the pretty face took on a sardonic scowl as she spat out. “Just you try and see where it gets you!”
Turning on her heel she was gone and a closed door was all that was left of the fleeting moment of exhilaration.
“Stay away from her. She’s dangerous and not to be trusted. I’d like to get her off this ship but she’s useful so I put up with her devious nature and endure it instead.”
Pulling Denver into step beside him he guided him away from Sabrina’s door and down the corridor.
“You know you’re not allowed on this side of the ship.” Captain Rumello gave him a quick sideways glance. “But apparently you want to see Rancor and that is why you’re here. So, what do you want with Rancor?”
With the spell broken Denver stopped dead, appalled that he had given away information, shocked that he hadn’t even attempted to read her mind. How easily he had been duped into telling her whatever she wanted made him quiver at how dangerous his situation could have become if not for the arrival of Captain Rumello. He turned to him now his face stricken with panic at what had happened.
“Don’t worry yourself, I stopped you in time. Obviously you have a plan and yes, she would have got all of it out of you and it wouldn’t have taken her long either.”
He snickered briefly as Denver paled further and put an arm across his back to keep him moving. “We’ve all been there, next time you won’t be drawn