o37

Through the Veil

They spent hours practicing. Jinqiong had a headache despite the blindness by the time they were finished, and she had accidentally cut her finger on her blade. She didn’t tell Jongdae, and she couldn’t tell if he hadn’t said anything because he figured she could deal with it herself or if he couldn’t sense it.

“You know,” he said as she set down the book she had been trying to turn invisible. Her power felt drained to the drgs. “You need to rest up. Ideally, we get to the central island in… thirty minutes now? An hour at the most? And then if everything goes smoothly there, we go to Taeyong. He might be able to use the gem, or Luhan might be given some time to figure it out there. We’re hoping it’s kind of… self explanatory once we get a curse to break.”

“That’s way too much to hope for,” Jinqiong told him drily.

“The pessimism isn’t as good a look as optimism,” Jongdae replied. “You should take a short break. You need more time to recharge if something does happen.”

“I’m fine. My power will be back if I don’t use it for a while.”

“Your power,” Jongdae replied, “will be back, but there won’t be as much left if you don’t take a break and eat something. Second drawer. There’s food still. I’m going to check on everything else and make sure they’re ready.”

Jinqiong couldn’t tell if he were mad or just nervous when footsteps stormed towards the door. She heard him yank it open, and then he was gone again.

Jinqiong felt her way to Jongdae’s desk, counted the bars of the drawers until she found the second one to the bottom, then pulled it open. Groping blindly, she managed to grab two fruits, one which seemed suspiciously similar to the tangy, tropical one that Byun Baekhyun had denounced, but she was too hungry to care. She ate the whole thing, then another one (being hungry didn’t stop it from tasting vile, and she figured it would be the first and only time she agreed with Baekhyun on anything). After two, Jinqiong was too disgusted to try another one, but it was enough energy replenished that she wasn’t tempted to eat more. Jongdae had terrible taste, it seemed.

She sat alone in her cabin for what felt like a long, long time. Jinqiong was beginning to wonder if half an hour had passed already, but given that her vision wasn’t back, they clearly weren’t in the second sector yet.

Another minute of absolute boredom gave away to a knock on her door. Instantly she was sitting up, hoping it was Jongdae with some sort of news (or just… Jongdae in general) before she realized that Kim Jongdae wouldn’t knock unless he was possessed. And also that she recognized the knock—timid, still, and utterly Song Hei.

Jinqiong cursed under her breath as the hinges squeaked and Hei’s soft footstep landed inside, then paused. Jinqiong turned towards her direction. 

She’d gotten slightly more accustomed to the darkness, but it was still disconcerting. Still, Jinqiong had a good sense in where noise was coming from, now—another day or so and the darkness had gotten frightfully familiar—and she heard Hei stop.

“Jongdae’s not here,” she said.

“Yes,” Jinqiong replied dryly. “Surprise.”

She could almost swear she could hear Hei hesitate, as if debating whether or not to stay, and Jinqiong half-wondered the same thing. She hadn’t intended whatever it was to drag out so long, but every time she looked at (or heard, given she couldn’t quite look at anything) Hei, all she could think of was the last time they had talked, and how she didn’t want to relive that. And she didn’t quite trust herself not to. What she said to Jongdae was beginning to feel a little more true: perhaps she was sparing Hei the pain by ignoring her now. It would be the same later, only worse. More hurt feelings, more hard-to-say goodbyes, more guilt.

Then she thought about Junsu, what could be waiting if they arrived at the central island only to find him waiting, what could happen to all of them.

“We’re almost there,” Jinqiong said, breaking the silence.

Hei still didn’t move. Balance—that was the sense she had lost.

“Sit down,” she added. “I’ve been told you can barely walk, so you really shouldn’t be standing.”

A small exhale that didn’t go unnoticed, but Hei’s footsteps sounded again. Jinqiong was surprised that she could tell they were uneven, and the girl seemed to fumble a bit before she managed to sit down on the chair next to Jongdae’s desk.

Suddenly very, very aware of the silence and the awkwardness, Jinqiong lifted her legs onto the bed and crossed them. She didn’t know what to say. It was better with Jongdae—at least she could get angry at him and feel bitter about it and ignore him as much as she wanted, but with Hei, part of her felt inclined to be the one speaking. She told herself that she didn’t have to just because she was older and there was nothing to say anyway, and she had already ruined things enough with Hei, but what came out was, “Do you know how long it’ll be before we get to the central island?”

“Baekhyun says fifteen minutes.”

“And then we find Taeyong?”

“Ideally,” Hei replied slowly. Jinqiong wondered if she were uncomfortable being there, and if she really had intended to leave after she realized that Jongdae wasn’t there. Maybe Hei had decided she wanted nothing to do with a sister who had forced them to help, to put her, her husband, and the baby in danger. Who she watched hurt her friend over and over again. Perhaps she had decided that it was true that Jinqiong didn’t deserve her, or Jongdae, or any of the crew.

The chair scraped. Hei had gotten up, she thought. One step, shaky and unbalanced, most likely, then another, and then the bed dipped slightly as Hei braced a hand before sitting down herself. “Jongdae said he talked to you,” she said quietly.

Jinqiong stiffened. “About what?”

“I don’t know. Everything?”

“Thank you for the specifics.”

Hei hesitated. Then, “I’m sorry for probing. You probably didn’t need me telling you all that. You sorted it out well enough with Jongdae.”

Jinqiong wondered if she ought to correct her, given that she and Jongdae were far from sorted out and she had ignored the problem completely, but instead, she opted for shrugging. “It’s fine. I’m… sorry for yelling at you.”

Hard, hard words to get out, but she meant them. She had been sorry since the moment Hei turned to leave, had been sorry a while before that, but there never felt like there was anything she could do about it. A warm hand wrapped around hers, and Jinqiong tried to reign in surprise when Hei squeezed her fingers. “You’ve heard about Junsu, right?”

It felt strange that someone else apart from Jongdae was holding her hand, but then Jinqiong shoved the thought out violently. In another fifteen minutes, she’d never need him to help her up stairs again. The past two days had been god-awful (except they weren’t exactly, because staying in his room with an excuse was admittedly nice).

“Luhan told Jongdae and me.”

“Do you think he’ll be on the central island when we get there?”

The hand clenching hers was shaking slightly, Jinqiong realized, holding just slightly too tightly. She wracked her brain for some sort of reassuring answer, and the only thing that came to mind was, “Expect the worst.”

Hei remained quiet for a moment, then a small, choked laugh escaped. “Practical. I like it.”

“It’s the best advice with Junsu,” she replied drily. “Just… try not to underestimate him. But at the same time, don’t let your nerves win. For all we know, he might not even be there. Anything is possible.”

“Do you have any clue what his weaknesses would be?”

Jinqiong thought about it. That golden armor was not only impenetrable but enchanted, so it was near impossible to hurt Junsu. He was a good fighter, and while they had never witnessed his power, it was probably just as bad as he was. He had more men, he was faster, he had someone who was capable of ripping away all their powers—did he have weaknesses?

“Jinqiong,” Hei prompted.

“He’s cocky,” Jinqiong blurted. “Once he thinks he has the upper hand, he’ll get cocky. If you can play it well, that could be where he slips. But it’s just… it’s not as if he’s really slipped up before. I don’t know. If we have to face him, our only hope is getting rid of him as quick as possibly by using the gem on Taeyong.”

The hand around hers squeezed again, and she felt Hei shift slightly. Jinqiong opened to ask her sister if she was leaving, but then she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her neck.

Jinqiong stiffened. The last person who’d done anything remotely similar was Jongdae when she’d nearly died from the sea serpent. She didn’t like hugs. She didn’t do hugs. Even then, all she could summon the ability to do was pat Hei on the back awkwardly, hoping Hei would let go each passing millisecond and thoroughly uncomfortable.

“If Junsu’s there,” Hei began, “Baekhyun’s going to fight. But if it doesn’t work, he’ll hand you over.”

Jinqiong schooled all her feelings and her expression into calmness. “I know.”

“He won’t.”

Jinqiong stiffened. “What?”

Hei had already let go. She took a deep breath. “I won’t let him,” she replied. “No matter what, there will always be another way, and I’ll make sure of that. So don’t worry.”

Jinqiong wondered if she should tell Hei that that was naive thinking, that she couldn’t stop Byun Baekhyun if he had his mind set, that there sometimes wasn’t another way. But there was a sort of determination in her voice that made Jinqiong swallow the rest of her words. Hei, by far the smallest, seemingly most delicate person in the crew had stared down Baekhyun’s father down without flinching. Perhaps it was more than just an empty promise.

What was Hei capable of? If her sister had reached the limits of her power—if she ever touched just how far her powers extended, what could she do? And likewise, what was she capable of, if what Jongdae had hypothesized was true?

Hei squeezed her shoulder. “I’m going to go up,” she said. “See if I can find Jongdae. And—”

Jinqiong heard the footsteps first. Hei broke off a moment later, then another second passed before the door of the cabin swung open.

“There you are,” Jongdae said, voice loud as usual. “Baekhyun thinks you shouldn’t be getting out of bed.”

The frown was almost audible in Hei’s voice. “You know, I’ve gotten a bit better. I haven’t… fallen.”

“Improvement, but—oh, there he comes.”

Another pair of footsteps—Jinqiong shoved down the frustration that every single person seemed to have better senses than her—this one sharper, faster, before Baekhyun said, “You still shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“Well,” Jongdae said pleasantly. “Please take this conversation somewhere else. I’ll keep lovely, lovely Jinqiong company and you two can find a room. That isn’t mine. Shoo.”

“How about you find a ship that isn’t mine,” Baekhyun muttered under his breath. 

“Goodbye,” Jongdae sang, before there was the slam of the door.

Jinqiong folded her arms. “Where did you go?”

“Missed me already?”

“You’re insufferable,” she bit back. “I want to know what’s going on. You said we’d be in the central island soon.”

“And we will be. Do you want to go to the deck?”

Jinqiong ran through everything she knew about the central island and Taeyong. She tucked a hand into a pocket, feeling the smooth, cool surface of the gem as her mind spun. If things went right, she’d be rid of both the gem and Junsu in perhaps the span of an hour. If things went wrong, they could range from being unable to undo the spell to losing her life and having the gem fall in Junsu’s hands.

“I’ll go,” she finally said. “It doesn’t hurt to see what it’ll look like.”

Jongdae was unnaturally cheerful—forced, she supposed, but it seemed to be the one thing he could somewhat lie about—when he picked up her elbow. “Then let’s hope this is the last time we’ll have to go up these stairs blind,” he said. 

***

Baekhyun insisted on carrying her back. Hei gave in grudgingly, though it was probably a good idea, given that coming down the stairs had been awfully dangerous and she nearly toppled down during the process.

She hadn’t managed to talk to Jongdae either, but she figured he wasn’t in the mood to talk, given his expression. Jinqiong couldn’t see the way he looked at her (how Jongdae could look at someone while being blind was past her too), but Hei certainly could. And it wasn’t so important that she would interrupt whatever that had been.

“Well,” Baekhyun said as they reached the cabin. “Are you excited to have your balance back?”

She jabbed him in the ribs, though he only glanced down, unfeeling. “Are you excited to feel the pain on your thumb?”

“I can take your abuse like this and still survive, so maybe the sector was actually doing me a favour.”

Hei twisted his cheek, and Baekhyun gave her a grin. “Can’t feel it, but I can’t talk like this.”

“I only get, what, ten minutes of so called abuse left?”

“I only get ten more minutes of carrying you around with no complaining, even if there’s no thankfulness.”

“Put me down.”

Baekhyun heaved an awfully dramatic sigh before setting her down on the chair. He sat down on the bed too, propping his elbows on his legs and shaking his head. “We’re so close.”

“I know.”

Please Subscribe to read the full chapter