Airie

Chapter 21

"Come on, drink with us," Reijo called to Dusan, raising his mug.

Dusan shook his head in refusal. Drinking with a bunch of sailors wasn't on his mind tonight, not with the floor moving under his feet and his stomach turning, forcing him to occasionally run upstairs and barf into the black night sea. Yet it was good to see Reijo come alive after weeks of listless, silent existence. He laughed, clinking his mug against those of the sailors, and yelled the songs they've been teaching him. It was doing him good.

Dusan sat back in his bunk bed, trying to keep the nausea down. On the ship taking him away from everything he knew, he could feel no fear or excitement, only physical sickness. He hoped it would get better. They would spend at least a month in the sea, Evander had told him, until they reached their next destination. Dusan couldn't survive a month without being able to keep any food in his stomach.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to ignore the world shifting around him. At least there was no storm right now—but there had been one yesterday, short but fierce, just like Reijo had predicted. Had Reijo actually sensed it coming? Could he still have some connection to the natural world that allowed him to at least know things, if not manipulate them?

They needed to talk about it, but that couldn't happen soon, not with Reijo being the heart of the party. Dusan closed his eyes, shutting out the long room full of bunk beds occupied by sleeping men, indifferent to the ruckus that half a dozen drinkers created.

A new wave of dizziness was coming. He got up and made his way unsteadily to the door. He glanced back once, and Reijo waved at him from the table, laughing at something one of the sailors was saying in his ear. Unused to alcohol, Reijo seemed to be extremely responsive to even the smallest amounts of it. Dusan would need to fetch him from this party soon, but first he had to empty his own rioting stomach.

The cool night breeze made it better. Stars filled the sky, clear as if the storm had never occurred. He bent over the railings, looking at the waves below, but there was nothing in his stomach to push out. After some dry retching, he gave up and just stood there, allowing the breeze to cool his sweaty face. He had to get better soon, otherwise drowning would seem like a good way out. He had to take care of Reijo, though, to help him navigate the humans' world he wouldn't have entered if not for Dusan.

He pushed himself off the railings and headed back down the stairs.

It the short time he'd been missing, the party must have died off, for he didn't hear any singing as he approached the sleeping quarters. It was dark inside. The lamp that had stood on the table was off now, and instead of the voices and the singing, only different variations of snoring could be heard.

Dusan strained his eyes, then gave up and just walked blindly towards his bunk, tracing his hand on the sides of the beds, careful to not touch the sleeping men. He considered calling out for Reijo whose bunk was below his, but before he could do that, he heard something, and stopped. There were voices—too quiet to have been heard from the door. He heard someone whisper, and someone else giggle.

"Reijo?" Dusan said.

"Right here," came the reply from ahead of him. "I'm right..." The voice was cut abruptly, which Dusan didn't like.