Airie

“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.

“Where are you? Talk to me.”

He made a few more steps, and then a tall, wide figure rose in front of him, blocking the way. He could only see the general outlines of the man, but it was enough to tell he was a good head taller that Dusan himself.

“Just go upstairs and puke some more,” the man said in a low voice. “We’ll be done soon.”

“Done with what?”

“With putting your boy to bed,” said the man, and someone unseen behind him chuckled.

The tall man apparently expected him to either obey or argue, so Dusan chose a third way, and slammed his fist into the man’s belly. The attack being a total surprise, the man doubled over with a huff. Dusan circled him quickly, his hands outstretched to not run headfirst into a bunk. He felt rather than saw a presence, a movement, and bent a little, his fists clenched, ready to take on another attacker. Fighting in the dark wouldn’t be easy, but they couldn’t see him, too, so…

“Reijo?” he called.

“He’s fine, man,” someone said to his right—a deep, slow voice. Dusan turned, ready for an attack which didn’t come. “He’s just having some fun with us, that’s all.”

“Fun?” Dusan felt chills. “Reijo, answer me!”

“I’m here,” said a familiar voice, weak and slurry. “I’m fine… I think.”

Dusan felt movement behind him, stepped aside, and the guy he’d hit earlier stumbled past him—at least he assumed it was that guy. It was impossible to tell in the dark. It was impossible to fight like this, too.

“Let go of him,” Dusan said. “Reijo, come here.”

“He doesn’t mind,” the deep voice from before said. “Leave him alone. He’s an adult.”

“He’s too drunk to decide. Also, he doesn’t know what you want from him. Reijo!”

“I’m fine,” the slurry voice said again, and Dusan made a step in its direction. “Don’t worry.”

Dusan reached out. His fingers closed on a familiar thin wrist, making his tension ease a bit. He strained his eyes. Reijo was sitting on a bed, and there seemed to be someone else sitting beside him.

“Whoever’s here, get lost—or should I go and talk to the captain about this?” Dusan hated to get down to such threats, but in this sickeningly moving dark twisted space he couldn’t rely on his fists to protect either of them.

There was a pause, and then the sound of someone getting up and moving away. He tried to figure where was the man he’d hit, whether there were any more of them standing or sitting around him, but there was just no way to tell. This disorientation felt sickening.

“Fine,” said the deep voice—thankfully, it now sounded farther away. “For now.”

“Get some sleep,” said someone else from somewhere the dark. “You’re taking this too hard.”

“Just leave us alone,” Dusan said.

He sat down next to Reijo. Sleep was not in the cards tonight, that much was clear. He had to keep an eye on Reijo. He reached out and ran his hands over his body. Reijo’s shirt was unbuttoned, but at least he still had his pants on.

“Did they hurt you?”

“No. They were just helping me get undressed for the night.”

“Everybody here sleep in their clothes, and so will you.”

“Too bad,” Reijo said, sounding dazed. “I could use a bath.” Unexpectedly, he wrapped his hands around Dusan’s neck and leaned into him, putting his head on Dusan’s shoulder. “I don’t feel so well.”

“You won’t drink again,” Dusan said, grudgingly. “Not onboard this ship.”

“Too bad,” Reijo whispered. “For a moment there, I felt at peace with my life.”

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