I think it’s the sensation of having real brothers.
Real family.
There is more to be done than I let myself see when we set sail. If I’d admitted it to myself, I’d have kept us at the port, and we all would have died. One of Hades’ men finds a faulty section of electrical work and has to replace an entire section. One of Zeus’s people discovers a component in the nav system that was dead on arrival and would have failed when it was time to push the ship past idling.
Nicholas has never been so alive in his life. He’s in his element, meeting all these new people. Vetting them for trustworthiness. Asking them hundreds of questions.
He won’t let anything past him.
Which is good, because I’m tired enough to die from it.
The night they arrive, my body gives out and refuses to stay awake anymore. The time on the island was past my limit. I don’t ask Nicholas to take over along with Hades and Zeus. He just does. Because I’m asleep. For hours at night. At least one nap during the day.
About half the time, I wake up to Ashley on the pillow next to me, Buddy at the foot of the bed. The other half, she’s busy. I can feel her on the ship. I can feel all of them on the ship. It makes it okay to go back to sleep, not that I’ll admit it to anyone.
My dreams are as vivid as they’ve ever been. Time-drifts through the past, and not always the horror show at the farmhouse. The street in France where my mother and I had the apartment. The pew at the church. Standing up to my knees in the ocean, and looking back to see her on the shore. Her eyes. Her wave.
They come to see if I’m still breathing—Hades and Zeus and Ashley and Nicholas. I hear them between dreams. Snippets of conversation fall into my sleep like pebbles.
“Do you think we should call someone?” Ashley says.
“No. You saw him on the island. If it had gone on much longer—”
I’m back in France before I hear anything else.
The rustle of cloth. A zipper.
“—told you about the cross.” Ashley’s saying softly. She does not want to wake me, and it’s so fucking cute it makes my heart ache. “Have you had a chance—”
“I’ve asked around.” This, from Hades.
“And?”
“And I have about a hundred photos of silver crosses on my phone. A few gold. One that was carved out of marble, which is impressive considering how small it is.”
Exasperation. “So did you find it?”
“No. He looked through it. Even half out of his mind with exhaustion he scrolled through them and told me that none of them were right.”
“Maybe he forgot what it looks like.”
A pause. “You don’t forget something like that.”
“Well, that can’t be all of them in the entire world. We have to keep looking.”
“It could be at the bottom of the ocean.” My brother sounds tired. “Or buried in the ground somewhere. It’s a fool’s errand, this search of his.”
“I’m not sure he can find peace until he finds that cross.”
I push myself upright and rub at my face. They can’t leave me alone. Conor guards the door, looking out at the hallway beyond. “An entire ship, and you two have to have this conversation in here? Get out.”
“No.” Hades is already dialing his phone. He puts it on speaker and tosses it onto the bed, then takes the chair nearby, his dog following. Ashley comes to sit next to me.
It rings twice, and the call connects.
“I hope you’re calling with something to sell, Hades.” The voice on the other end of the line is cool and businesslike. And comfortable. This is someone my brother knows well. “I just inked a five hundred million dollar deal, and the money’s burning a hole in my pocket.”
“Not this time. I’m interested in buying.”
“Christ. What am I supposed to do with all this money?”
“Start collecting helicopters. Buy yourself an island. Isn’t that what rich bastards like you do?”
“You tell me,” the voice shoots back. “You’re the only owner of a diamond mine I know.”
“I’m looking for a silver cross, Mason. Originally part of a rosary.” Hades glances at me. “It has intricate scrollwork on the front. My brother has more details.”
“It—” I clear my throat. “It had seed pearls set into it.”
“How many?” Mason Hill says, all brisk business. I imagine this man on the other end. I think I saw him in photos when I got the offer to kill his parents. He was a teenager then. The other children were even younger. What did they do when his parents died? It sounds like he’s made a success of himself, whatever happened back then. But he didn’t escape completely unscathed either. I know something about that. The past holds us down like water weeds, wrapping around our ankles. No matter how hard or how strong we swim, we’re always near the bottom.
“Fourteen,” I say, thinking of the cream-colored pearls in the silver. They’d been worn down by the time my mother pressed it into my hands. Prayed on too many times. “Ten on the back. Four on the front. Jesus was standing on a seed pearl. Whole thing was two and a half inches high.”
“Solid silver?”
I remember the weight of it. “I think so.”
“You’ll hear from me,” he says, and then he hangs up. No wonder he does business with Hades. They’re both alike, so cold and remote from the world. So determined to face everything with a stoic front. I can appreciate the sentiment, but my life is wilder. The sea gives me something to fight each and every day. I can’t be stoic in the face of her constant chaos.
But then, look what the sea has cost me.
I’m laid flat on my back, overcome from exhaustion. And maybe something else. A bone-deep weariness that a man finds at the end of a long journey, knowing he’s miles from home.
Several days later I’m dreaming of swimming in deep water.
“Fifty-three pearls,” Ashley says, her voice like a warm breeze. “And these small ones in the cross. It’s complete. We did it.”
Hades answers. “I’m having the master jeweler come from the mountain tonight. I can’t believe that bastard found it. The final piece.”
There’s a brief flare of understanding. Of hope. Is it possible? Is it true? Then the heaviness of sleep comes over me, dragging me down into an endless deep.
On the tenth day I wake up past nine to an empty room and a clear head.
My muscles have restored themselves to something close to normalcy, and when I stand up to shower and dress I don’t feel any urge to get back into bed. Thank God. I can’t keep napping every afternoon. This happened once to an old captain Caspian and I served under when I first went to sea. He had worked himself to the bone for years. We underwent an epic storm that lasted for thirty days. At the end of it, most men were seasick. Some found a woman to fuck. The captain? He slept for days and days. And when he woke up, it was like nothing had happened. His body needed the rest to recover and face the world anew.
Up on deck, I find Jason sitting on a stack of cargo crates, looking out over a gentle sea. I lean on the railing and both of us look out together. From this vantage point, only his leg is visible, swinging over the side of the crates. It was like this the night I found Ashley. I’m not used to this painful warmth in my chest from doing things like standing at the railing with one of my crew in his regular spot. I wait for his question. He always asks me ridiculous fucking questions, and I would have mourned the loss of them if we hadn’t made it off Haven Island.