I could tell by the expression on Cove’s face–brows pinched, tension underlying his frame–that he didn’t appreciate the vague promise any more than I did. And yet, I found myself agreeing, trusting Shahrazad to do the proper thing even as Cove shot me a sharp look that I shrugged off easily. I was the methodological one–he was the one with impulse issues.
“My crew and I will help as well,” Sinbad promised, Eliza standing in silent support off to the side.
“Sir.” John broke his single-minded focus to give him a little nod, not quite snapping to attention as he moved to face me again. I shifted, discomfort tingling through my hands at the extension of his undivided attention.
Silence reigned, growing until everyone looked quite awkward. Sinbad gave me a slight, encouraging nod as Eliza threw her hand in John’s direction, her face lined with bafflement. Cove shrugged.
“...when do we need to defeat the rooks? Do we have their locations?”
The fact that we needed to prompt him to give us basic details proved settled it. He was inexperienced and unwise. The only thing he had going for him was his discipline, and even that was so painfully obvious it was more a hindrance than a boon for this mission. Vague recollections of the novel told me they roosted in the towers, but it was something no one besides Cove, or I would know without prompting, and I wanted to hear it from John’s mouth.
He started, slipping a hand in his pocket to remove a small, glowing thumb drive. Palm up, he held it out to me. “All the information you need is on this disk,” he said smartly. Pretending he hadn’t completely dropped the ball.
With my forefinger and my thumb, I lifted it off the soft leather covering his hands, slipping it into my inventory for now. I’d spent enough time around Ani to know how quickly something small like that could vanish, never to be seen again.
His heels pressed together, and he tossed me a salute. At my returning unsure nod, he dropped it, turning fully to face Sinbad. A flicker of distaste flashed over his face. Sinbad picked up on it, his curiosity at John’s reaction muted to anyone who didn’t know him. “It is customary for one such as yourself to thank the queen for such a wonderful gift,” he said, his eyes shifting pointedly to the ship we stood in.
Sinbad smiled broadly. “Of course.”
They may have been close to the same age, but their maturity levels were miles apart. John relaxed slightly, once again looking to me for direction. “Am I dismissed?”
I nodded.
“Clarion will show you out,” Sinbad said, pressing a button and opening the door to reveal the aforementioned crewmate, who waved John toward him. John nodded smartly, his feet thudding rhythmically against the ground. As soon as the door shut behind him, Eliza burst out into laughter, her chest heaving and her arms moving to wrap around her chest as she doubled over.
“That boy’s gonna get eaten alive! I can’t believe he thinks he has a chance with the queen.” She exclaimed through guffs of laughter.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Well, she wasn’t wrong.
Sinbad shook his head, a small smile betraying him as he scolded her. “Eliza, don’t be mean. I’m sure most of the army is the same way–she is very beautiful and kind.”
I felt my eyebrows rise closer to my hairline.
Cove opened his mouth to speak, and I expected him to jump on the easy chance to tease Sinbad. What actually came out of his mouth was not what I predicted. “Really?” Cove scoffed bitterly, drumming his fingers along his arm, “She manipulated us to do her dirty work for her.”
“I’m with Cove on this one,” Eliza said, also skipping the teasing. “Plenty of women use their looks to trick men into doing whatever they want. You think the queen has been the only survivor of her husband because she’s kind?”
It had been obvious even in the novel that she’d woven her way into the guardsman and the people’s good graces with a manipulative hand. That didn’t mean she was malicious. “I trust her,” I said without thinking. At Cove’s scowl, I added, “Nothing we’ve seen here or in the Zenith Online novel has indicated any reason not to.”
“If she’d given us the fragment earlier–”
“If she’d given us the fragment earlier, we might have missed Setare’s fragment,” I pointed out. “You know this. I’m as frustrated as you are that we can’t go home yet, but–”
Cove cut me off, his words angry and biting. “My dad thought the witch was trustworthy, too. She manipulated people the same way. Pretending to be kind, convincing others to do her favors, escalating until they did her dirty work.”
My jaw clicked shut, my teeth grinding together tightly before I loosened my jaw. I scrutinized him for a minute, catching the way his fingers drummed faster. His jittery movements. It dawned on me that Shahrazad wasn’t the real issue here. No, the real issue was how impatient Cove got the longer we remained in a world, fear and tension building and building until he was bursting at the seams, jumping at every threat. Cove was desperately trying not to turn out like his mother, spending as little time interfering in the worlds as possible. Our time in What Lies Ahead had shown him interfering wasn’t as horrid as he’d thought, but it was clear he wasn’t anywhere close to being ‘over’ the issue as I wished. Now, it stood out to me like a sore thumb.
“You’re afraid,” I said, watching closely as the drumming stopped, Cove’s fingers tightening around his arm. “And projecting,” I winced internally as the words came out, sounding far harsher than I’d intended. This was why I hated speaking.
The truth, as Ember had often tried to remind me, was often the worst thing to say.
“It’s the way you say it. You throw the one thing they didn’t want you to see in their face and expect them to thank you for it,” she’d told me many times. I’d always brushed her off, but watching Cove’s reaction now, I thought perhaps I should have listened.
Cove’s knuckles went white, his nostrils flared, and his jaw muscles bulged. His blue eyes were as cold as ice. If he could attack with a mere look, ice daggers would shoot out of his eyes towards me. “You–” he cut himself off, his voice deep and shaking. I couldn’t tell if it was rage or fear.
Sinbad stepped between us with the experience of someone well-versed in stopping fights, cutting through the tension. “That’s enough,” he said, scolding us as he would children. “We’re all tired. Let’s get some rest and speak again in the morning.”
Cove stalked out without another word. Rather than encounter him in our shared room I decided to give him some space, taking the time to hunt down my cat.