In Deeper Waters by F.T. Lukens (best business books of all time txt) 📗

“I do, actually.” Athlen rested his chin on the crown of Tal’s head. “I know you saved me when you didn’t have to. I know you love your family. I know you care for the people of your kingdom. I know that something that is a part of you could never be bad.”

Tal sagged farther into Athlen’s embrace, his cheek pressed against the stiff fabric of Athlen’s shirt. Athlen’s heartbeat was a soothing rhythm under his ear. “You don’t understand,” Tal said bitterly. “I chose to destroy the ship. I made a choice.”

“So did they, when they chose to hurt you.”

Tal bit his lip against another wave of tears, but he couldn’t stop the rising tide of his emotions, not in the face of Athlen’s sincere faith. Athlen’s assertions didn’t absolve Tal of his guilt, but they were a balm to his tattered spirit.

“We’ll get you home,” Athlen said. “We’ll fix this. I promise.” Tal clasped Athlen’s shirt in his fist and held on, desperate and afraid. He focused on the reassurances in his ear and the closeness of Athlen’s body while he shuddered and sobbed. Time passed in a haze of panic and visions, until exhaustion surged and Tal slumped forward, his body and tears giving way.

He came back to himself in moments. Athlen’s hand rubbed up and down the length of his spine, and his voice spoke slow and soothing, though Tal couldn’t make out the words. He hiccoughed and leaned heavily into Athlen’s body.

“Tal?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Athlen held him tighter. “Don’t be. I was waiting for it to happen.”

Tal frowned. “For what?”

Athlen sighed and Tal moved with the expansion of his chest. He should’ve been embarrassed, sagging as he was onto Athlen’s body, but he was too tired to move.

“When the seafloor shifted all those years ago, and I lost my family and my people, I looked for them for weeks. No, months. I spent all of my time swimming, looking for anyone who was still alive. Parts of our home were too hot, and I could see the…” He shook his head, his hair sweeping across Tal’s cheek. “When I finally took a moment to rest, everything crashed down. It was the first time I cried over losing them. It wasn’t the last, but it was the most… visceral.”

Athlen pulled away but kept his hands clenched on Tal’s shoulders, peering into Tal’s face with his wide honey eyes, his lashes dark and wet.

“You’ve been through a lot in the past few days. It was bound to catch up to you.”

Tal bit his lip. He nodded. “Thank you.” He released his grip on Athlen’s shirt, the fabric crinkled from force and sweat, and wiped his sleeve over his eyes. “I’m sorry there wasn’t anyone there for you when it happened.”

Athlen looked away and he sniffed. “Maybe next time I’ll have someone.”

Tal’s middle fluttered. Athlen could’ve meant any number of situations with that statement, but Tal hoped it meant that they would be friends far in the future, whenever that unknown next time would be.

“You saved me again. We’re even.”

Athlen smiled and his eyes crinkled. His gaze cut back to Tal, and he brushed a wayward strand of hair from Tal’s forehead, his knobby fingers cool and smooth on Tal’s flushed skin.

“You need to rest. Especially if we’re going to get you back to your family before your sister’s wedding.”

Tal didn’t argue. He settled back on the cushion in the nest and closed his eyes. Athlen rearranged the blankets and hovered nearby as Tal drifted in and out of a restless sleep.

10

We have a problem,” Dara said when she returned late that afternoon. She startled Tal into wakefulness while he was in the middle of a snore, which turned into a loud snort. He rolled onto his side and peered at Dara over the edge of a blanket.

“What?”

“Great. You’re awake. Where’s Athlen?”

Tal yawned and stretched his good arm over his head, his injured one bandaged to his chest. “I don’t know. He was here when I went to sleep.” He sat up and accepted the canteen of hot broth Dara shoved at him. “He might be swimming.”

She twisted her hands. “Oh no. He needs to get back here right away.”

Alarm lanced through Tal. “What’s wrong?”

“We have a problem,” Athlen said, popping up from the water, surprising them both. Tal dropped the canteen and Dara let out a yelp. “Oh, hi, Dara. What’s wrong? You look upset.” He pushed his body from the water with his strong arms, his gills closing and his tail morphing as he emerged, water sluicing over his muscles as he stepped onto the shelf.

Tal and Dara both looked away as he stood dripping. Dara’s cheeks were as red as Tal’s felt.

“Trousers!” she snapped.

“Right. Right. Land modesty.” A rustle of fabric and a soft curse later, Athlen was dressed. His hair was flattened to his head, tendrils sticking wetly to his cheeks.

“Like I said, we may have a problem.”

Tal pointed to Dara. “That’s what she said when she walked in.”

“What’s your problem?” Athlen asked, using the edge of a tattered sail to wipe off the remaining droplets of water, his torso flexing in the golden light of the late afternoon.

A lump lodged in Tal’s throat, and he squirmed in the makeshift bed.

“There was a royal messenger in the next town over who made a proclamation. Rumor has already spread, but the kingdom is in mourning.” Her brown eyes zeroed in on Tal. “You’re officially dead.”

“Oh.” He unplugged the canteen and took a drink of the broth. It was hot and thick and hinted at flavorlessness. It was better to his stomach than the eggs and sausage had been. He swallowed. “Did they say how?”

“Murdered.”

“Oh,” he repeated. Tal picked at the edge of the canteen. Murdered. Not assassinated. There was a slight difference. The latter being politically driven. His family either hadn’t made the connection or hadn’t found evidence to support a declaration of assassination. They’d be reluctant to declare anyone