The Gracekeepers (11 page)

Avalon closed her eyes and leaned over the bow. She took several deep breaths, her head hanging out over the water. Jarrow's head throbbed harder.

“Avalon?” he said. It came out in a whisper, lost beneath the lazy slap of the sails in the breeze. She knew about the house. She must. He'd told her, he was sure—he'd told her when they…but when he tried to hear himself saying the words, he could not remember. Had they discussed it? Had they truly understood each other? He and Avalon exchanged many words, but it felt as if those words were in different languages.

When Jarrow's wife turned back to him, her smile was as open and bright as the sun. “My king. I apologize. You took me by surprise but now I've gathered myself. Lately I have been concerned about North, and I fear it's making me ill.”

“Concerned?” Jarrow had to tread carefully. He could not risk the health of Avalon or the baby—but he could not risk the house either.

Avalon sighed prettily. “Oh, it's probably me being silly. I don't know if our north child will be able to pick up landlocker ways. She is a sweet child, but she
is
a child.” She took Jarrow's free hand and held it to the swell of her belly. “But let's not think about her. You have your own child. Your wife and your baby need you.”

Jarrow kept his breathing steady, ignoring the throb in his head. “You have me, my queen. Both of you have me. Everything I have is yours.”

“Everything but what we need.” Avalon's voice was so quiet that Jarrow might have misheard her. But he knew he had not. He swithered between adoration and irritation. He could not possibly love his wife more—and yet no matter how many apples he bartered for, no matter how many fresh flowers he placed in her hair, she was never satisfied.

Seeming to sense his swaying emotions, Avalon turned to Jarrow and peppered kisses along his ragged jawline. She spoke in a purr. “But listen, my king. I'm being a silly thing. I just wish…” She sighed and waited for Jarrow to prompt her, which he did not.

“I just wish,” she continued, “that I could help give you a fresh start. I give you a new baby, you give me a new home—together, we have a new chance to restore the Stirling name. Ainsel is not a baby, and can look after himself. Is the father not more worthy than the son?”

“Do you want the house? Is that what you're saying?”

Avalon pealed out a laugh. “Oh, my king! I want for nothing. I never think of my own desires. I'm merely thinking of what's best for our child.”

“I cannot leave, Avalon. Who will look after the Excalibur? Who will be the ringmaster? This is my home. Our home.”

“It doesn't have to be. Ainsel can look after the circus. Ainsel and his new dampling wife. They're more suited to it, my king. We're not meant for a life at sea. You are a true landlocker.”

Jarrow gripped the wheel until his knuckles throbbed. “It's too late to go back, Avalon. I've made my decision. There is one house, and that is for my son.”

“If you say so.” Avalon had switched her smolder to a sulk, bottom lip pouted out, body turned away from Jarrow. “But we still need a house. Your wife and child can't be expected to live at sea forever.”

“Hmm,” replied Jarrow, hoping that would be answer enough. He had been saving for most of Ainsel's life; this baby would be grown and Jarrow long dead before the same again could be saved. Surely Avalon knew that. Surely she saw that this was the only way.

Jarrow bent to drop a kiss on his wife's forehead. She tilted away from him, swaying belowdecks without looking at him. He couldn't bear to watch her go. He kept his gaze ahead, on the merge of sky and sea.

O
ver the following days, Jarrow watched North. She performed her circus duties perfectly—couldn't she just as perfectly slip into the role of a good landlocker wife? It was true that she did
not spend much time with the rest of the crew, preferring to stay in her coracle with her bear. But that proved her diligence, surely—it was not easy to keep a bear so well trained and docile, and North did the best she could. Jarrow had seen what a beast like that could do.

The one good thing about their lack of progress was that the animals could be exercised. North's bear paddled in the sea for hours, and judging by his silence it tired him out so much that he slept the rest of the time. The horses, of course, were far too precious for the water, and instead were exercised by circling the
Excalibur
's deck. Jarrow's thoughts were punctuated by the steady clop of hooves.

He'd slipped so deep into his thoughts that he barely noticed the first breath of wind that signaled their emergence from the doldrums. It was Cash, in fact, who alerted him. The clowns had taken to peeling back the canvas of their coracle and perching on the edge, allowing the sun to brown the skin that was not covered with tattoos. Jarrow found their presence comforting. In the still air of the doldrums, alone on the wide sea, with no sign of life from the covered coracles, it would be easy to feel alone in the world. But Jarrow needed only to glance over his shoulder and see the edge of a brightly colored limb to know that his circus continued.

“Easterly!” came the shout on their second afternoon. The sky was flat and blue as an upturned bowl, and the sun glinted silver off the kicked-up waves. Those waves should have been Jarrow's clue to the breeze, but his worries seemed to clump inside his brain and obscure his vision.

“I feel an easterly, Captain!”

He turned toward the call. Cash was on the port side of the coracle, ideally placed to feel the first breath of wind from the
east. Jarrow lifted his face to the sky. Sure enough, he could feel the push of a breeze against his skin. Relief flooded through him.

Cash's call roused the rest of the crew. Jarrow waited for the head count before announcing: “We are free of the doldrums! Hoist the sails, crew, hoist the sails. Hoist! Hoist! Hoist!”

Usually the crew would join the chant, but the only response was a smattering of watery smiles. Well, that was all that could be expected. Perhaps they thought Jarrow callous for continuing on in the face of such loss. But what was his choice? There were still eleven other members of this crew, and it was his responsibility to ensure that they were fed and clothed and kept safe. Better to be a callous captain than a negligent one. He kept the smile pinned to his face and turned to retrieve the mainsail from its cubby under the port bow. He knew he should have hung it before now, but he was as superstitious as the next captain: the mainsail had touched the dead, and it would take a strong wind to blow that away. No point in letting a mild breeze whisper ghosts around the ship.

Understanding that there would be a wait while the sails were hoisted, the rest of the crew busied themselves with individual tasks. The clowns tugged out their skin-diver gear and the thick glass sphere of the lung, ready to collect food for dinner; Mauve and Teal sat on the edge of their coracle and dipped their feet into the water, shouting over to Cash the names of the undersea items they needed for their beauty supplies; Ainsel led the horses back to his coracle.

The distance up the mast to attach the mainsail was not far, perhaps twice Jarrow's height. From there, it could be hoisted by ropes on the deck. It was easiest for the acrobats, so used to monkeying up ropes and platforms. But he had already asked so much of Melia. The world was still turning and bellies were still
hungry and the circus still needed to perform, and soon enough she would have to do her duty. But not yet. The rest of the crew could manage, and North was small and skinny enough to shin a little way up the mast.

“North!” called out Jarrow. She had ducked back down into her coracle to dry and settle her bear after his daily exercise, and took a moment to reappear. He made a note to ask her how Melia was faring. “North, please help me to hang the sail.”

“Oh, I—yes, Jarrow.” She ducked down into her coracle once more, then climbed out and began to step across the line of boats to the
Excalibur
.

Ainsel, who had already stepped on board to help with the sail, gaped at his father. Jarrow regarded him with a slight smile.

“Thank you, Ainsel, but I can manage this ship quite well. I should practice for after your wedding, no? You may tend to your horses. I imagine that they are still restless from the storm, and we must have them ready to perform when we reach land tomorrow. We all wish to eat.”

Ainsel muttered something that Jarrow could not discern. As North passed, he swept his arm wide and dropped to a deep bow in a parody of manners. Jarrow watched, the sail in his hands.

North did not react to Ainsel. Instead she stepped past him and on to the
Excalibur
's deck, then waited for Jarrow to pass her the sail. He held it out, but hesitated. He could feel the heat from North's skin, so close to his own. When the boat was not moving, the air was oppressively hot. Sweat itched along Jarrow's top lip, and the rough skin of his cheeks began to ache in the humidity. He knew that he should stay out of the sea-spray as he sailed; the saltwater only made his skin crack more, but it felt so soothing on the reddened flesh. He was anxious to get the circus moving again.

“North,” he began. “I knew your parents for many years before you were born. I know you didn't get much time with them, before—that is, perhaps they never spoke of their hopes for you. But all of this—the house, and your marriage to Ainsel—I am sure that it's what they wanted for you. I am sure it's even more than they hoped for. Ainsel is my firstborn son, and I loved his mother very much. I do not give him away lightly.”

She kept her eyes down on the deck. Jarrow waited, wondering if perhaps he should repeat the words in case she hadn't heard. The silence thickened. The sail was heavy in his arms.

“What I am saying, North, is that I am proud of you. I am giving you my son because I think you are worthy of him. And you know that if there was anything—that is, any reason that you might not be able to start your life on land—live properly with Ainsel as his wife…” He faltered.

From the coracles came the ting of glass against metal. Jarrow glanced up. Dosh was in the water, lung balanced on the surface, ready to start diving, pulling faces at Cash and Dough through the scratched glass sphere. Damn: Jarrow had forgotten to ask him to bring up some of those pinkish seaweed shoots, the ones that Avalon liked. And he needed Cash to scrape any barnacles from the undersides of the coracles while the clowns were diving. And he needed to discuss a tweak to Bero's fire-breathing act. And he should check that Cyan had properly mended the costumes for the maypole. And Melia needed a new coracle, and the
Excalibur
's seams needed caulking, and Avalon needed things for the baby, and he still did not have quite enough saved up for the house, and the days were slipping away toward their arrival at the island. And, damn it, North still had not answered him. He cleared his throat.

“Well,” he croaked. He coughed again and passed the corner
of the sail to her, keeping the mass of it in his arms. “Thank you, North. I am glad that there is nothing to stand in the way. You will be an excellent landlocker, and you will make us all proud. Now we had better get the sail up.”

As North began to climb the mast, the sail's edge tucked into the back of her trousers, Avalon popped up from belowdecks. Her anger seemed to have blown over. It never took long—and at least Jarrow hadn't had to sweeten her with gifts this time. She tiptoed to peck a forgiving kiss on his cheek, murmuring that she wished to sun herself on the deck. She waited for a kiss in return then stretched out, one hand behind her head, elbow cocked.

Jarrow had intended to watch North, but instead he watched Avalon watching North. Her eyes were squinted shut against the sun—but no, not quite shut; just enough to mask the direction of her gaze. He pretended to busy himself with the wheel, checking again that its movement was smoothly oiled. From above came the click of bone hoops, the shift of limbs, the shush of fabric dropping. North had hung the sail. But still he kept his eyes on his wife.

Her pose was one of absolute relaxation: head tipped back, one arm stretched along the gunwale. He held his breath, all the better to observe her.

He saw Avalon's head tilt up, following North's movement as she slid down the mast. He saw her eyes widen; saw an unpleasant little smile sneak across her lips. He glanced up at North, but she had already shinned back down to the deck and was fussing with her clothes, rearranging them where they'd rucked up during her descent. She stood with her back to him, and he could not see what had so intrigued Avalon.

He flicked his gaze between them. As North turned to go back to her coracle, Avalon stood to meet her. If North was
surprised, she did not show it; she simply stood with her hands at her sides and her gaze on her feet, waiting.

“Oh, North,” sighed Avalon. She took both of North's hands in her own, turning them so that the palms faced up. She opened her own hands so the two pairs were in a line, as if she was showing North something held in her hand. But Jarrow could see that her hands were empty.

“Our little north child,” continued Avalon, her voice as soft as a breeze. “Our child,” she repeated, to let North know that she and Jarrow really did think of North as their own dear daughter. The throb in Jarrow's head lessened. Avalon was happy once more, and that meant he could be happy too.

Avalon took hold of North's hands and pulled her close, so close that the swell of her belly pressed against North's own middle. Despite her moods, Avalon really was the sweetest of women: reminding North of the baby, showing her that North should see the child as a new part of her family. Jarrow would never have known how to show North this, and he was grateful to Avalon for her kindness.

“Ready to hoist!” he called out. There was a rush of activity: Dosh tugged on the cable attaching Cash to the boat; Teal and Mauve pulled their feet from the water and fussed over their canvas; Avalon slid belowdecks; and among it all, North slipped away from the
Excalibur
and back to her coracle.