A sprawl of scattered storms soaked Revessa to the bone. Most people stayed inside to avoid the wind and rain, but those few caught in the streets ran between alleyways holding bags over their heads. Fat raindrops churned the surface of the empty, gray canals hard enough you could hear water slosh against brick over the low growl of thunder. The arched passageways of boat tunnels, half-submerged, peeked out of the rising canal water.
Outside of one tunnel, something disturbed the surface of the canal. A dark shape rose through the depths. Then, without a gasp, Cade popped out of the water. She ran a self-conscious hand through her wet hair and, as she began to breathe again, a human flush came back into her cheeks.
She squinted up at the heavy pinpoints of rain assaulting her face. "You gotta be kidding me…"
With one breaststroke, Cade pushed herself through the water. Her hands caught stone, and the toe of her boot found purchase in the wall of the canal. A bewildered passersby paused to watch her climb a footbridge with uncanny quickness. They startled and bolted when her feet hit ground and she turned to meet their stare.
Back at the guild, Cade treaded wet sand and water into Andrada's office.
He sighed. "This had better be good."
"Merrow," she said, her slicked hair still dripping. She pulled a sharp fang from her pocket and tossed it onto his desk. "You can tell the client the tunnels are safe again. After the water's gone back down, that is."
"I see." With delicate caution, he took the tooth between his thumb and forefinger, slipped it into an envelope, and tucked the envelope into a file. "I will take a smaller percentage out of your payment if you mop this floor."
Cade grimaced. "Why do I have to do it?"
"Would you like to be the one to tell Seesa to clean up your mess?" Andrada flashed an unnerving white-toothed smile.
Breaking the news to Seesa would be more work than mopping the floor in the first place. The idea exhausted her. "Nevermind. Let me grab a quick bath, and I'll get on that."
"Thank you, Cade."
With the comfort of fresh, dry clothing on her clean skin, Cade plunked a metal pail into the utility tub. Water thundered out of the faucet. She poked at a raised red scratch on her torso and frowned as she waited for the pail to fill.
Alone in the silence of the supply closet and drained from the fight, her mind wandered. An unsatisfied feeling brewed somewhere inside her. The job distracted her for a few days, but victory hadn't delighted her the way it used to. She finished the task and the thrill of the hunt slid off of her, leaving her unfulfilled.
Cade didn't really want to think too hard about it.
In the guild commons, the mop's wet cotton fibers slapped water across the hardwood floor. A few bored adventurers loitered in the space and perused the job listings. Their conversation hummed a low murmur over the room. Seesa read a book behind the front desk.
Wyster straddled a chair near Cade, her arms folded over the back. Making conversation, she said, "You said you went in the canal for this job?"
"Yeah. Is that weird?" Cade asked.
"Well, it's more, just, I didn't know you could do that."
"Swim?"
"No, get in the canal." Wyster paused. "Though you took the riverboat here, I guess."
She expected Cade to grin and scoff and pretended to be offended, but she kept her eyes on the floor. "Yeah, that's never been a thing for me."
They lapsed back into silence. Wyster watched her pass the mop head over a beading trail of brown water.
"You seem awfully quiet today," she commented. "Usually after you come back from a job, you can't shut up."
Cade grunted, "I'm bored."
"Ah. Getting the itch?
"But I've still got a couple months until I leave."
Wyster leveled a long, thoughtful look at her friend.
"Like you wouldn't be bored back home, too?"
With a sniff, Cade turned away from Wyster. Her mop slid over a series of sandy boot prints near the door. The restlessness settling over her came with a dash of fear, as if acknowledging it would make it too real.
"I wish I could talk to Ira about it," she said.
Wyster raised her eyebrows. "He's still busy?"
"Guess so."
A couple weeks ago, a change came over Ira, too. He seemed distracted during their outings, and then the outings themselves dwindled to nothing. When Cade asked about it, he said he was "busy."
"I can't fault the guy," Cade thought out loud. "The city isn't new anymore. After you get used to the routine, it gives you the space to think about everything else."
The moment the words left her mouth, Cade felt embarrassed. She may as well have been talking about herself. She'd tricked herself into thinking she could settle down somewhere more exciting than Vai-by-the-Stone. But she couldn't, Cade knew. She wasn't sure she'd ever settle down.
"Divorce stuff?"
"I think maybe the reality of it is starting to sink in for him."
Wyster rested her chin on her forearms with a decisive "hm."
With one hand on her hip and the other on the mop handle, Cade huffed. "Damn it, Wyster, what am I supposed to do? Write my family and tell them I'm not coming back? Tell my friend I'm sorry about the divorce but I can't be there for him because if I don't skip town I'll explode?"
"I mean, it doesn't seem like he wants you there for him, so—"
"C'mon. You know what I mean. And what about Singe?"
"What about him?" Wyster asked.
"I don't know, I just, what?" Cade half-heartedly plopped the mop back into the pail's muddied water. "I'm gonna be gone the next time he comes through town?"
"What, you left your man so you could wait around on other people instead?" Wyster asked bluntly.
The tightening sensation in Cade's throat told her Wyster hit the nail on the head. She swallowed as if it would make the constriction go away. It didn't. The connections she'd made were beginning to feel like chains.
Wyster continued, "Singe didn't ask you to wait up on him like that."
Cade laughed weakly. She almost felt like she couldn't breathe. "Yeah. Like he wouldn't just come find me if he wanted to."
In the utility closet, Cade flipped the mop upside down and leaned it against the wall. She dumped the pail into the utility tub. The brown, sandy water swirled the drain. Outside, the muffled chatter in the commons leaked through the walls. It sounded so far away from her.
The storms continued on-and-off into the evening. Business was slow, and even Seesa had left early for the day, looking put-together as usual in her tailored green raincoat and matching umbrella. Feeling suffocated by the walls of her room, Cade lingered in the common area. A few guild members had brought a pack of playing cards to a table, but she'd opted to watch instead of joining in.
A black catfolk named Lucky looked up from her hand. "Three of hearts."
"Go fish," the human across from her replied.
"Damn you."
One of the other players cracked a joke about "bad luck." Lucky mimed drawing one talon across her throat threateningly.
Ruimar, the human, tossed a glance Cade's direction. Cade had seen them around a few times. They didn't stay in the guild dorms like she did, so the two of them hadn't interacted much. Ruimar had long dark curls they kept half-up in a voluminous ponytail, and often dressed in light, airy fabrics that draped over their heavyset frame. Their eyes were large and wistful. A healer, Cade remembered, though she didn't know what sort.
"You sure you don't want to join in? Look at the fun you're missing out on," they said drily, gesturing towards the others.
Cade tilted her head to the side to get a better angle. Lucky had gotten into an argument with the mouthy player, her ears flattened back against her skull.
"You know, it's tempting, but I wouldn't want to intrude," Cade quipped.
The two of them laughed together.
"I hope you don't mind, but I overheard you talking to Wyster earlier," Ruimar mentioned. "A few of us are headed to that job in Kurrdin, you know."
The name sparked a memory. A couple days prior, Andrada put a notice on the board that called for multiple adventurers. Some isolated island in the Maelstrom had opened up its borders to the outside world for the first time and needed help rebuilding after the storms. Cade glanced at the listing, but traveling so far away had seemed off-limits at the time. She shrank from it.
"That the one with the dragon riders?" she asked.
"Yeah. Isn't that fascinating? It could be a once-in-a-lifetime chance to witness something no one's ever seen before."
For the first time, Cade shook off the ties that bound her and let herself imagine it: taking her first airship to a remote island where the inhabitants rode dragons. Curiosity and excitement glimmered through the veil of hesitation.
She smiled. A sudden downpour rattled against the glass of the windows. "I'll think about it. Thanks."
"Don't think so hard you talk yourself out of it," Ruimar replied with a smile.
—
When day broke the next morning, sunlight reflected off the slick, wet streets. Cade loitered outside Andrada's office for an anxious moment, wringing her hands.
Just do it, Cade, she told herself, and knocked on the door before she could change her mind.
"Come again?" Andrada asked after hearing her request.
"I want to go to Kurrdin if there's still room on the team," Cade repeated.
He'd been in the midst of rearranging some books on the shelf behind his desk. Now, he stood frozen mid-thought, one brown leather-bound book in hand.
"I was under the impression you'd be staying in the city until the equinox," he said.
She gave an awkward shrug, her shoulders raised to her ears. "Me too."
Taking a moment to replace the book on the shelf, Andrada took a seat at his desk. He stared at a fixed point in space. Cade knew that look by now; Andrada kept track of so much information that he was always considering it in the background of his thoughts. He had to take a moment to re-assess old information through a new lens.
"… I see no reason why not," he said, at last.
The tension flowed out of Cade. She heaved a sigh of relief.
"We've chartered a private ship in two days' time, so make sure you are awake in time to catch the flight with the rest of the group—"
"Yes, yes, of course."
"No, Cade, listen." Andrada gave her a strong look until she quieted and gave him her full attention. "Make sure you take all your things with you, because I can't hold that room for you if other adventurers come through town while you aren't here."
She breathed in. "Understood."
"This job will compensate you handsomely, however, so I have no doubt you'll be able to find a place when you come back in the event we have no vacancy."
Cade waited. Her entire body buzzed with the thrill of what she had gotten herself into.
"That's all," Andrada told her. When she jumped out of her chair and left, he called after her, "Two days! Clean out your room!"
A bounce found its way back into Cade's step as she pushed through the front door and into the streets. The boost of energy came with a rush of mixed emotions. She couldn't overlook the way she felt after disentangling herself from her commitments — the way flying solo came with a sense of relief. Behind the freedom, a glimmer of shame stalked the back of her mind. Cade pushed it away.
Hands in her pockets, Cade traced the now-familiar path to Ira's boarding-house. She had no idea what she'd say or do, or if he'd even be there. She figured it was just as likely she'd catch him in the middle of his morning routine on his way to somewhere else.
How early was it, even? She hadn't thought to check. All she knew is she'd given up on sleeping when the sun came up.
One of the other boarding-house tenants was taking advantage of the weather and pinning his laundry on a clothesline outside. He exchanged a nod with Cade as she passed by. She hopped up the front steps and pulled open the door.
Her feet creaked the floorboards as she paused outside Ira's apartment. Here, at the last moment, she hesitated again, her fist only inches from knocking. Cade could feel her blood pumping slow in her ears.
Before she could convince herself to knock, the doorknob began to turn. Panicked, Cade took a step back. She felt silly. What, was Ira going to "catch" her visiting him? The thought only lasted a moment, until a man she did not recognize slipped through the doorway. When their eyes met, both of them froze.
He was pretty, she noted, with soft hair and a sloped nose and big light eyes. Fit, but a bit delicate for her tastes. Cade gave him a quick once-over, noting his shirt was on backwards.
"I'm sorry, I must have gone to the wrong door," she said, embarrassed. "I was looking for Ira."
"Ah. No, no, he's—" The man gestured behind him bashfully. "He just got up."
Cade started. "Oh! Oh. Oh-kay." After a moment's hesitation, she stepped back and gestured for him to pass. "Sorry, go ahead."
The man dipped his head with an awkward laugh and squeezed by, headed for the staircase. Cade pressed one disbelieving hand to her forehead. She took a moment to steady herself and let herself in.
She found Ira slipping a shirt over his head. He pulled the collar down over his face and yelled.
"So, he was cute," Cade teased.
Ira pressed one hand to his chest. "You scared me."
"'Busy,' huh?"
"If I tell you you're uninvited from my room, will you have to leave?" Bleary-eyed, Ira wandered into the kitchen in search of his tea kettle.
Cade followed him. "That's never been a thing for me. So, about the guy…"
"Oh, that is not something new to me," Ira said. He put the kettle under the faucet and let it run. "I never had a preference one way or another."
"Man, I'm just happy to see you getting out there. How long have you been seeing him?"
The burner came on with a click-click-click. Ira set the kettle on the stovetop.
He laughed. "I'm not. I met him last night. I can't even remember his name."
"Ira!" Cade slapped him on the arm.
"You're a bad influence."
"So…" She paused in thought. "You needed to find some other way to break the tension because, what, talking to me feels too humiliating? It's the divorce, right? Starting to feel too real?"
Ira pressed the heels of his palms against his tired eyes and sighed. "Can we talk about this after I've had tea?"
"Damn, I'm good."
"Is that why you're here this morning?" He spun around on her, exasperated. "To analyze my life choices?"
Taking a deep breath, Cade heaved a long sigh. "No."
The water began to hiss inside the kettle.
"I think I'm leaving," she said. "At least for a little while."
Ira furrowed his brow. "Isn't it still winter there?"
"I'm not going back to my parents'. I'm picking up a job in the Maelstrom."
Silence fell over them. Cade could hear the rolling boil inside the tea kettle. Steam whistled through its spout, and Ira moved it off the heat.
"How long will you be gone?" he asked.
"I dunno. Couple weeks, maybe?"
Ira measured out tea leaves and dumped them into two mugs. He poured the hot water over them and let them steep.
Cade continued, "I'll probably write Singe. Just so he doesn't come through town expecting to see me."
"I should go, too," Ira said.
She gave him a confused look. "With me?"
"No, no." He laughed. "It's been too long since I've seen my girls, and there's paperwork that still needs to be settled."
Ira held a mug out to her. Cade took it in her hands. The scent of black tea and lemon zest found her nose.
"I've been putting it off. Maybe this is the push I needed," he said.
"How about this, then?" she began. "We both go on our trips at the same time, and when we get back, we'll grab a drink and catch up."
Nodding slowly, Ira let a smile cross his lips. "I think I'd like that."
They enjoyed a slow, late morning out on his balcony, sipping their tea in relative quiet. As the sun rose high above the city, the heat became too much to bear. Cade took Ira's mug inside with her and took a moment to wash their mugs in the sink. Behind her, she heard Ira slide the door closed and lower the blinds.
When she fetched her shoes by the door, Ira pulled her in for a tight hug.
"I'm sorry I disappeared on you," he lamented.
"Shut up," she said with a lopsided smile. Cade took his face in her hands and met his gentle green eyes. "See you in a couple weeks. Don't do anything too crazy."
He settled one hand on her wrist and chuckled. "You know me."
—
Cade had things to do.
Writing to her family was difficult. She knew on some level her parents were proud of her, but she worried her siblings would feel left behind. She imagined Madley opening a letter in excitement only to discover her older sister wouldn't be coming home. Don't torture yourself, she thought. Cade's pen scratched across the paper, promising to bring back stories and sending her love.
Singe's letter was almost worse. Their relationship had been lighthearted since that first meeting on the riverboat. Acknowledging the role he suddenly filled in her life felt wrong. Even something as simple as, "I won't be here for a few weeks. If you come through town, I'll miss you," made her want to pry open her window and throw the letter into the canal.
She struck through that last sentence a few times, crumpled the first draft, and settled on, "If you come through town, don't miss me too much."
After she'd dropped off her letters, Cade retired to her room. She dragged the luggage trunk out from under her bed and left it open in the middle of the floor. A layer of clothes in the bottom might be best, she decided, and she set to work clearing out her drawers and wardrobe.
Some time later, after the dark of evening dimmed her room and Cade had to flip on the lights, the doorknob to her room rattled. She paused, sitting with her legs criss-crossed on the floor. The door swung open, and Wyster stood in the doorway with a bottle of wine and two glasses gripped between her fingers.
"Did you just pick the lock to my room one-handed?" Cade asked, offended. "You could have just knocked."
Wyster set the bottle on the nightstand, pulled out a corkscrew, and yanked the cork out of the wine bottle. "I thought this would be funnier."
"No one's laughing. I'm not laughing. You're not laughing."
"I'm laughing on the inside." She tipped over the bottle to fill a glass and held it out to Cade. It gleamed a deep, dark red.
"Red wine? Are you making fun of me?" Cade quirked an eyebrow as she took the glass.
Wyster ignored her. "What changed your mind?"
Cade swirled the wine in the glass. She considered deflecting with a joke about pissing off Andrada by spilling wine on the bed, but decided against it. "I did, I guess."
"Yeah?"
"Well, one of the other people going to Kurrdin talked to me — you know Ruimar? — and it sounded interesting," Cade paused to take a sip, "and then I went to go see Ira."
"Oh? And he was there?"
"Yeah, with the guy he picked up at a bar last night."
Wyster's eyes widened. She jerked her chin forward.
"I'm dead serious," Cade laughed. "Anyway, he did have 'divorce stuff' going on. He needs to go back to his family's house to figure some things out, but he's been putting it off."
"Oh, wait." Wyster scowled. "So you're both leaving me?"
Cade clapped a hand to her shoulder. "Only for a couple weeks. I'll be back."
The rest of the night passed in calm and conversation. Packing fell to the wayside as the wine bottle grew emptier. Wyster eventually swayed, smiling, back to her own room across the hallway, and Cade crawled into bed with her abandoned task half-finished on the floor.
The day before the trip, she discovered packing with a hangover was one of her least favorite activities. But by the time the morning of her departure came, Cade had finished the job. All her belongings were either in her bag or her luggage trunk. The room looked more or less how it did when she arrived.
The unlived-in emptiness struck Cade with a kind of sadness. The thought crossed her mind for the first time that this was the life she'd chosen — a series of emptied-out short-term rooms left behind. Just there, she had drank wine with Wyster on the floor, but it wasn't that night anymore, and she might not ever sit there again.
A strange dizziness fell over her. Cade pushed it away. She slipped her hand through the handle of her trunk and made her way to the commons.
A pack of four others gathered near the entryway, their bags around their feet. It was early; no one else gathered in the dim, empty common area. Ruimar looked up from their checklist. When they saw Cade, a smile rounded their cheeks, and they waved.
"I wasn't sure if you'd decided to come," they greeted. "Are you ready?"
Cade gave them a tired thumbs-up. "Reporting for duty."
The group picked up their belongings — bags thrown over one shoulder, trunks balanced on their hips — and made their way to the docks. The tepid humidity of early morning tasted like novelty. As promised, Andrada had chartered a small private airship, and the pilot waved them aboard in the golden glow of morning's light.
Cade found a seat beside a window and threw her bags on the floor between her feet. Outside, early sunlight glinted off the cresting waves. The airship balanced in the water for now, but she'd seen them lift off, the way their wings grew out of the hull and caught the wind like a current.
Ruimar slid next to her. "You haven't been on an airship before, have you?"
She laughed. "Nah. Not much reason to, back home."
"Are you scared?"
"A little."
Somewhere, an enormous chunk of arcane crystal fed the airship power. The engine revved to life with an otherworldly hum. Cade's reflection in the window began to blur around the edges as the glass vibrated.
"The first time, the scariest part is actually getting up in the air," Ruimar said. "Once you're up there, it's not so bad."
The ship pulled away from the dock. Cade felt herself seized by the breathlessness of anticipation. She could feel the gentle rock of the waves beneath them and wondered what would replace them.
Then, it happened. There was a strange lifting sensation. Cade's stomach bottomed out, and she became aware of nothing beneath her. Through the window, she watched the surface of the ocean slip away from her as they rose above the buildings. She saw the guild, and Ira's boarding-house, and the castle in the distance. And then all of Revessa looked like a toy set beneath her, the buildings too far away to differentiate.
Cade noticed the familiar chill that had settled over her and realized she'd stopped breathing. She pulled in a deep breath and laughed in disbelief.
"Crazy, huh?" Ruimar asked.
Cade shook her head. "A year ago, I never woulda thought this would be my life."
Across the sitting area, someone called out Ruimar's name. They squeezed Cade's shoulder, winked, and excused themselves. Cade found herself alone with visions of the world far below.
She wondered if this had been the right choice. She felt good, sure. But feeling good never seemed to last.