Heir of the Gods

Ch. 59: Debt

It was the scream of the wind that woke her.

Cassia opened her eyes. Or, rather, one of them. Her left eye was swollen shut. Her mouth tasted like old copper and salt. Her ribs ached as did her skull. The cell was dark, making Cassia wonder how long she'd been unconscious. She had vague recollections of floating to consciousness, but had never managed to stay awake for long.

This felt different, though. She was fully awake now, and aware of everything. Including the fact that her head was resting on something soft. 

With a soft groan, she shifted her hands and tried to push herself into a sitting position. A callused hand settled on her forehead, gently pulling her back down. Cassia might have been inclined to struggle, but the creak of her ribs and the sharp pain that resulted dissuaded her. She sighed, allowing her head to rest on Askari's thigh.

"Are you among the living again?" Askari asked in Metian, his voice quiet and weary. He tensed as the ship swayed around them. An arhythmic drumming overhead told Cassia it was raining.

She lifted a hand, probing the tight, swollen skin around her eye. "How long have I been asleep?" she croaked, wincing at the pain that lanced through her jaw.

He sighed, catching her hand and replacing it with his own. Cassia held her breath as he felt along the line of her jaw, pressing a little harder at certain points. "I do not believe it is dislocated. Just bruised and painful. However, it seems like a few of your ribs are cracked."

She turned her head gingerly, straining her eye to see Askari. It was too dark. He was little more than a black splotch against the darkness. "That's not what I asked."

"A little less than two days." Some of the usual snap returned to his voice, calming her. Somehow, his concern was far more frightening than his temper.

"Mm." Cassia let her eye fall closed. Overhead, underscoring the pound of rain, she could hear the creak of ropes and canvas. "Does it look terrible?"

A scoff came from Askari. "Does that matter?"

She began tapping the left side of her face, exploring the swollen skin and painful points around her eye and down her cheek to her mouth. She was sure it was bruised, but how bruised was the question. "Yes."

"Yes," he said shortly before muttering in Sorian about ridiculous Metian vanity.

Cassia let that slide, realizing he was the one to have nursed her over the last two days. Her concern was vain, in a way. The prettier she looked, the likelier it was she would end up as a household slave. The clearer her path would be back to freedom.

Her eye flew back open when the ship pitched violently, a swell of water slapping her in the face. Spluttering, she lurched upright just to double over, clutching her ribs.

Askari's arms braced her as the ship lurched again, threatening to send her sliding into the bars of their cage. Her heart pounded a tattoo against her aching ribs as the creaking of timbers came suddenly to the front of her attention.

"What's wrong?" she asked, then shook her head. That was an unintelligent question. "A storm?"

"They turn bad very quickly along the coast of Brunia." Askari helped her sit with her back against the hull. He kept his arm wrapped around her shoulders, helping her stay steady as the ship continued to lurch and roll.

Above, she thought she could hear hoarse shouting and the thud of running feet. Water surged in waves down into the hold, cascading over the stairs at irregular intervals. Beside her, Askari began muttering under his breath. Cassia recognized the cadence of prayer, even though she couldn't make out his words.