Brightly Burning(50)

“I have to go,” I said, stealing away before Hugo could stop me. I flew back to the drawing room, slipping quietly inside and finding it empty, as I’d hoped. The windows offered a meager light and stars by which to distract and calm myself. The party returned some twenty minutes later, everyone laughing and chattering, accusing others of cheating. Not that it mattered, as there was nothing to win. Another round was suggested, but Hugo firmly said no. I returned to my seat by the door, only to find myself the object of his maddening attention. He stared at me, gaze accusing.

So again I fled, out into the hallway, still shrouded in darkness. Except there seemed to be a light flashing off to the right. It illuminated the corridor at regular intervals, every five seconds. I followed the flashes to the bridge, where I found a multitude of screens all blinking the same message: SHIP INCOMING.

I hailed Officer Xiao, her voice thick with sleep, but she came alert as soon as I told her what was happening.

“I’ll be on the bridge in three minutes. Get the captain up there immediately.”

I touched a finger to my ear, clearing my throat to keep it from shaking. “Comms on. Paging Captain Fairfax.”

“Not authorized,” Rori intoned. I’d forgotten. Only Xiao and Poole could directly hail the captain. There was no time to get Xiao back on the line.

“Rori, please make an exception. At least tell the captain I’m calling; see if he’ll answer.”

I waited, silence in my ear until he answered a moment later, voice playful.

“Stella, are you coming back? You know I don’t like it when you leave.”

“Sir, I need you to report immediately to the bridge. We’ve got a ship incoming.”

For a moment, he didn’t speak. I was afraid he hadn’t heard me, so I began to repeat myself, but he cut me off. “Roger wilco,” he said, suddenly serious. “I will be there in a minute.” He arrived a minute before Xiao, scanning the screens, ignoring me. Then he touched two fingers to his comms piece.

“Incoming ship, please identify and state your purpose.” He waited for a response, mouth tight, staring intently at the windows. When his jaw started clicking, I assumed he was hearing a response, one he didn’t like. “I will allow you on board my ship to refuel and rest, but I want you gone in twelve hours.” Though I saw Hugo sway on his feet, close his eyes, and breathe heavily through his nose to steady himself, his voice remained strong and clear. I’d never seen him so in command. It was a good look on him. “Well, that is your opinion,” he continued his conversation as Xiao arrived. He signaled her, then ended his call. “I will meet you in the transport bay in twenty minutes with my First Officer. Do not move from there until we come to collect you.”

Then Hugo turned to me, all business, the last hour erased as if it had never been. I wondered if I’d dreamed it.

“Stella, please go to the drawing room and inform everyone that I won’t be returning this evening. Encourage them to turn in early, and let them know I will see them tomorrow. Then go to bed.”

I opened my mouth to protest, to question him, but a look from Xiao silenced me. I nodded and wordlessly slipped from the bridge, making my way to the drawing room to fulfill my duty. It wasn’t easy. I stood in the doorway, clearing my throat and calling for attention two, three times before anyone but the Ingram wait staff paid me any mind, and even then, they remained skeptical.

“Are you sure Hugo’s not coming back tonight?” Bianca asked, like she was certain I was trying to trick her. “And even so, why should we go to bed just because Captain Fairfax is abandoning us?”

“Because he requested it,” I said. “I’m going below decks and will tell your crew to come fetch you. Have a good evening.” I didn’t give them time to protest.

While my bunkmates went to fetch their ladies, I got ready for bed, playing the events of the evening over in my mind as I brushed my teeth, unzipped my dress. The whole thing felt far away, already unreal to me, the memory fuzzy at the edges, fleeting like smoke. I hardly trusted my recollection of it. I pushed the fabric off my hips, thinking of Hugo’s hand in the same place an hour before. I touched tentative fingers to my lips. Had I imagined that part of it? His hand on my hip, of that I was sure, but this . . . I kissed the tips of my fingers as I’d dared not kiss his. It had to be a mistake. Hugo had no reason to be so intimate with me. He must have been too drunk to know himself.

Yes, that must be it, I decided, settling into bed with my reader tab. I’d fallen horridly behind in my books over the last few weeks. I fell asleep before the Ingram staff could return, lights blazing still, with lines from Dickens echoing in my head. They reverberated, poetry-like prose spiraling into vivid images in my mind, until they screamed.

But no. I realized it wasn’t literature in my dreams, but real screams I heard. I jolted awake, strap holding me down, surely bruising my ribs as I tried to sit up too suddenly. It was silent now, but I knew it had been real. My eyes darted around the room, and despite the dark, I could make out the outline of the other bunk, my roommates dozing. I undid the strap, climbing down and out of bed, making my way in bare feet to the door. The hallway was quiet, dim. The scream had sounded close, and instinct carried me to the medical bay. The light from the hatch window in the door lit the way, and I tiptoed down the hall until I was flush up against the medical-bay door. I obscured myself in shadows, able to just peek through the glass and into the room.