[ The last message he gets tears something between a growl and a despairing sob from his throat, and the curtness of the reply spurs him into motion, shoving his phone into his jeans and pulling on the denim jacket he’d thrown over the back of a chair when he’d first come in, one with something obnoxious and glittery emblazoned across the back — a phoenix, he thinks, but he’s thinking less about his clothes and more about where he wants to go, which is right next door to the kitschy brothel that boasts the most beautiful girls and boys in the District.
One of the girls works with him, Rowena, a shtriga he’d found amongst the refugees on one of his ships; she survives on the life essence of others, which she steals from her clients but heals before they leave. Casimir doesn’t altogether approve of her methods, but she’s humane about it and doesn’t kill. Her skills outweigh any crimes she might be committing, however — she’s a perfect spider, able to crawl into the smallest of spaces and drop in completely unnoticed to spy and gather information. She’s his eyes and ears, although Larus had supplemented in that department since they’d become friends. Friends, more than friends. He doesn’t know what they are anymore.
He convinces Rowena to sneak out with him, and together they cross the District for one of the lively clubs run by the Sea Snakes. There’s no reason for him to stay home when there’s no one there with him, especially not when he could be out dancing and drinking and making the most of his high. Rowena asks him about a hundred times what’s wrong, but he just smiles and orders them both the strongest drinks on the menu, and from there time passes in a blur.
He likes her because although she can be pushy, she knows when to stop. She dances with him and doesn’t comment further when he wipes his eyes across his sleeve, and when he decides to stand on a table and wax poetic about all the strangers in the room, she goads him on but stays nearby in case he falls. She takes away the last few drinks a group of boys send Casimir’s way, much to his chagrin, but then she faithfully holds his hair back when he throws up in the bushes outside despite how much of a fuss he’d put up before. ]
What boy has you so upset? [ She finally asks the obvious question when he’s done spitting and hacking, and he just shakes his head, sliding a hand into his pocket to reach for his phone. There’s nothing from Larus, and still his words ring through his head. You need to be realistic. He wants to smash it to pieces on the sidewalk. He scrolls through his missed calls, a message from an unknown number, and holds it up to his ear, only half listening. ]
Do you think I’m a fool for what I’m trying to do? [ He looks at Rowena, her large blue eyes with thick lashes framing them like a nest. ]
Yes. You’re a fool. You want the entire world. [ She crosses her arms, meeting his gaze — they’re the same height, same dark hair, but her skin is fair and her features more severe. ] But we follow you because we know you want the world so that you can give it to those you love.
[ He manages a smile at that, and he leans in to press a kiss to her forehead, and then suddenly Larus’ voice is filling his ears. He listens intently, something fluttering in his chest, and Rowena squeezes his arm and goes back inside to offer him some privacy. He sits down at the curb, his head swimming, and debates with himself for several minutes before he dials the number again. ]
Larus. [ He rests his forehead against the heel of his palm, closing his eyes, and he doesn’t know if he’s talking into an answering system or whether someone has actually picked up. ] I’ll tell you what’s unrealistic for me. It’s asking myself to want less. I can’t do that any more than you can will yourself to be human again. I’m being as real as I ever will be. Hope is realistic to me. I won’t let that go.
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One of the girls works with him, Rowena, a shtriga he’d found amongst the refugees on one of his ships; she survives on the life essence of others, which she steals from her clients but heals before they leave. Casimir doesn’t altogether approve of her methods, but she’s humane about it and doesn’t kill. Her skills outweigh any crimes she might be committing, however — she’s a perfect spider, able to crawl into the smallest of spaces and drop in completely unnoticed to spy and gather information. She’s his eyes and ears, although Larus had supplemented in that department since they’d become friends. Friends, more than friends. He doesn’t know what they are anymore.
He convinces Rowena to sneak out with him, and together they cross the District for one of the lively clubs run by the Sea Snakes. There’s no reason for him to stay home when there’s no one there with him, especially not when he could be out dancing and drinking and making the most of his high. Rowena asks him about a hundred times what’s wrong, but he just smiles and orders them both the strongest drinks on the menu, and from there time passes in a blur.
He likes her because although she can be pushy, she knows when to stop. She dances with him and doesn’t comment further when he wipes his eyes across his sleeve, and when he decides to stand on a table and wax poetic about all the strangers in the room, she goads him on but stays nearby in case he falls. She takes away the last few drinks a group of boys send Casimir’s way, much to his chagrin, but then she faithfully holds his hair back when he throws up in the bushes outside despite how much of a fuss he’d put up before. ]
What boy has you so upset? [ She finally asks the obvious question when he’s done spitting and hacking, and he just shakes his head, sliding a hand into his pocket to reach for his phone. There’s nothing from Larus, and still his words ring through his head. You need to be realistic. He wants to smash it to pieces on the sidewalk. He scrolls through his missed calls, a message from an unknown number, and holds it up to his ear, only half listening. ]
Do you think I’m a fool for what I’m trying to do? [ He looks at Rowena, her large blue eyes with thick lashes framing them like a nest. ]
Yes. You’re a fool. You want the entire world. [ She crosses her arms, meeting his gaze — they’re the same height, same dark hair, but her skin is fair and her features more severe. ] But we follow you because we know you want the world so that you can give it to those you love.
[ He manages a smile at that, and he leans in to press a kiss to her forehead, and then suddenly Larus’ voice is filling his ears. He listens intently, something fluttering in his chest, and Rowena squeezes his arm and goes back inside to offer him some privacy. He sits down at the curb, his head swimming, and debates with himself for several minutes before he dials the number again. ]
Larus. [ He rests his forehead against the heel of his palm, closing his eyes, and he doesn’t know if he’s talking into an answering system or whether someone has actually picked up. ] I’ll tell you what’s unrealistic for me. It’s asking myself to want less. I can’t do that any more than you can will yourself to be human again. I’m being as real as I ever will be. Hope is realistic to me. I won’t let that go.