“Now you try,” she said, sliding the loom in front of him.
Alex frowned as he leaned over the loom. The wind howled outside, but he’d grown so used to the near-constant storm that he didn’t hear it. He stared, unseeing, forcing himself to think of something other than Sky as he worked the machine. And of course the only other thing consuming his thoughts of late was Simber.
His anxiety returned, and he fumbled with the threads. After a moment of struggle as he tried to fix his mistakes, Sky uttered a low “Hmm.”
Alex looked up. “I’ll start over.”
Sky was giving him that knowing look. She could always tell when he was preoccupied. “Mage problems again?” she asked softly.
It was a tense subject between the two, or at least it felt that way to Alex. He cringed. “Sorry.” He looked at the perfect little green carpet that she had constructed. “Can you show me one more time?”
He reached for some moss. Sky took half of it from him, worked it into threads, secured them on the loom, and demonstrated once more how to handle the loom so that Alex’s fingers wouldn’t get in the way. Then she took his hands and placed them into position, showing him how to do it himself.
At her soft touch, Alex winced. He wanted to slip his fingers between hers. Instead he swallowed hard and nodded, though his mind was lost once more.
He began fresh, but this time his moss fell apart. He picked it up and struggled again to weave. “I swear I did this all by myself once,” Alex said.
Sky chuckled. “Yes, and it only took you what, seven hours? Just think—with my help, you might be able to cut it down to a couple.”
Alex made a face, but knew she was right.
After a moment of watching him, Sky nudged him and leaned closer. “You’re really not very good at this, Alex,” she whispered, her orange eyes mischievous. “And I thought you were good at everything.”
Alex winced. “Clearly I have a looming weakness.”
Sky snorted, and Alex reluctantly grinned.
“I have a few other weaknesses too,” he said. “You might have noticed.”
Sky smiled. She rested her hand on Alex’s knee for a brief moment. “I won’t tell the enemy.” She tilted her head and held his gaze.
Alex pressed his lips together, and then the words he’d held in for so long finally tumbled out. “I’m sorry, Sky,” he said. “I really am. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about what was happening . . . you know, with me and being the head mage and everything. That wasn’t fair. I was wrong to treat you like that.”
“Thank you. I accept your apology,” Sky said.
“I miss . . .” His chest ached. “I miss the way we used to talk.”
“Me too,” Sky said. “I miss it a lot. Shall we start doing that again?”
Alex laughed and nodded. “Yes, I’d like that.”
“Great,” said Sky. She sat up straight and slapped the floor next to the loom. “Now pay attention and learn how to weave your dumb carpets faster. I don’t have all night for you, you know.” She grinned and shoved a pile of moss at Alex. “And stop worrying about Simber.”
“How did you—”
“Please, Alex. I just know. And I get how your mind works. When it’s stuck on something, it won’t let go. I’ve seen you in action, remember?”
“Do I ever,” Alex muttered.
“Simber’s fine. He’s probably taking care of whatever problem Ms. Morning was having. She hasn’t sent any more seek spells, so I take that as a sign that all is clear. I’m sure Simber will turn up eventually. But even if he doesn’t, you can handle this without him. And you know what? I think you need to.”
“Need to?”
“You need to handle our escape without counting on Simber to save us, Alex. The endless waiting for Simber is just making everyone more anxious. We need a definitive plan.”
Alex closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face. Eventually he sighed. “You’re probably right.”
“Of course I am.”
As he sat there contemplating the problem in a new light, Sky squeezed his arm. “I’m going to bed. You should too. We can work on this tomorrow.”
She slipped away, and Alex felt a great weight lifting off his heart.
Everything always felt so much better with Sky.
Henry Helps Out
At first, when Henry began following Ishibashi around, Crow tagged along, but he soon grew bored with the greenhouse, preferring to work on less delicate things like cutting wood and pounding nails. Henry, on the other hand, couldn’t get enough of his time with the scientist. He longed to spend all of his time in the greenhouse with Ishibashi, learning about the healing nature of plants, and how to breed them to make new strains.
Before the Artiméans arrived, Ishibashi had been working on creating a new fruit and vegetable combination he called sweet applecorn, which grew in oblong pods on a stalk with a tuft of bright red leaves at the top. Ishibashi took a knife and sliced off one of the pods, then peeled back the edible husk, revealing a red-and-yellow-checkerboard vegi-fruit inside. He chopped it up and put it into a bowl, added a little bit of fresh diced onion, a few drops of avocado oil, and a squeeze of lime juice, and presented it to Henry, who declared it his new favorite food.
Having no paper to write on, Henry could only take notes mentally and hope that he remembered everything he learned. Before bed he repeated recipes and formulas to himself so they would stick in his brain better.