Esme hurried toward them.
"It’s really not what any of you are thinking! This is just–"
Leonardo cleared his throat and tilted his head with deliberate mischief. "Oh? And what exactly are we thinking?"
Esme groaned, pressing her palms to her temples as her cheeks flushed a deep pink.
"Ugh... this is so embarrassing."
She turned away. Jumping into the vast ocean below no longer seemed like such a bad idea anymore. Come to think of it, how did those two even know about the meaning behind this?
Donovan folded his arms, fighting to keep a straight face. "Alright, that’s enough. Don’t bother her. If she says it’s not what you’re thinking, then it’s not. Let her hair glow in peace, okay?"
Cora playfully elbowed Leonardo in the abdomen, as if telling him to behave, but the effort to suppress her own laughter was written all over face. Eventually, Esme turned to them, and Cora was the first to change the topic.
"Anyway... we’ll be reaching the shore by tonight, the helmsman just confirmed it."
"By tonight?" Esme’s expression softened with relief. "Finally. The ocean’s been unnerving enough. I’d take the land any day. At least then, we’ll be one step closer to the truth. Let’s get this problem out of the way first, then we’ll think about what to do about the dark waters to ensure they don’t cross the North or the damned. That seems like a fair option, right?"
Donovan nodded in agreement. "Yes, I think tackling these problems one at a time is the best option. Hopefully, Lennox can maintain some regulatory control before it gets worse, though I can’t imagine what could be worse than this."
He stepped toward the edge, gazing down at the ocean. The water below was no longer blue, but swallowed in darkness, its surface barely visible. The earlier words of the siren echoed in his head, and if the true bearer already met her, then without a doubt, he was waiting for them on the other side as well.
Cora held her journal to her chest. "So... what do we do when we get there?"
"There’s a map that shows where the three witches are hiding," Donovan said. "We’ll track them down. I have a feeling there’ll be more unpleasant surprises waiting for us, so we need to be extra prepared."
Esme couldn’t help but agree. She really wanted to know what he was thinking, but for some reason, his thoughts remained shut to her. It had been that way ever since he regained consciousness, and she didn’t know if she needed to be worried about it or not. It was fine if he needed privacy, but she really hoped whatever was troubling him, he’d tell her eventually.
"You guys!" Althea appeared, looking troubled. "I think something’s wrong with Archer. Come quick."
The news barely registered before Esme, Leonardo and Cora followed her. Only Donovan remained behind, his expression shifting at the news.
A soft hum echoed beside him, and he turned his head to the side to see the same girl sitting on the edge, her legs swinging, her eyes somewhere distant as she hummed a tune. It lasted for a moment before she stopped.
"Have you... made your choice?" she asked without looking at him.
"Can you at least save him?"
The little girl finally spared him a glance. "If you don’t make your choices sooner, the rest of your friends, families and Esme will end up like him. Esme cannot defeat the true bearer unless you step in."
"What are you exactly?"
Donovan couldn’t understand her at all.
He had been hopeful– perhaps foolishly so– that ending the true bearer would finally bring peace. A better future for everyone who had to endure the curse his lineage brought upon them. But then she appeared, and in a single instant, that fragile hope shattered
Did he hate the girl for it? Yes.
He wanted to think rationally, to analyze her words and weigh the truth behind them. Logic was all he’d ever trusted. Yet even if he believed her, with everything that has aligned with what she said, the uncertainty of what might follow unsettled him more than he cared to admit.
Esme had probably noticed that something was wrong; she always did. He despised the thought of making her worry, but what choice did he have? For once, his thoughts refused to obey reason. He was— against every instinct he had— confused.
Even his wolf, whom he assumed would be the one to encourage him, was silent as well.
The girl stepped forward, walking along the edge until she stood before him. Her emotionless gaze locked with his, unblinking and unwavering.
"Make your choice," she said. "I understand your hesitation, but there is no other way. The true bearer is already tied to you. But if you surrender..."
Her voice faltered, and Donovan’s eyes widened. She pressed on, softer this time, yet insistent. "If you surrender, there is hope. It will not be easy, but you will have to do this. For them. For your people. Take my hand... accept it."
She extended her hand toward him.
Donovan stared at her hand and took a decisive step back.
*******
Meanwhile, everyone had rushed to check on Acheron in his cabin.
He was already surrounded by Revana and Lothar, with Atticus and Orion standing close by.
The wounds he had gotten from the siren attacks hadn’t healed at all, and Esme’s gaze lingered on Acheron’s painful expression.
"Did you stop healing? Why didn’t you tell anyone about this?" she demanded, her voice tight with worry.
His shirt had come off, and the wounds still looked painfully raw after the dressing was removed. His skin had grown paler, and dark veins were slowly branching across it. He drew in a sharp breath.
"I didn’t think... it was serious."
"What is your definition of serious?" Lothar questioned, unable to believe he didn’t think not healing wasn’t a serious problem. "This doesn’t look like something we can treat onboard. Hopefully we reach the shore sooner and find proper help."
"But there has to be something we can do to alleviate his pain, right?" Revana pressed, looking at Esme for guidance.
Sensing the worry in everyone’s expression, Acheron tried to reassure them with a quiet laugh. "Fine, this is my fault. But... Don’t you guys trust me? Maybe it’s just that I haven’t been resting properly. I’ll feel better after—"
"It’s not just proper rest," Esme murmured. "You... consumed the dark waters, didn’t you? Was it that day, when you fell off the edge?"
"Didn’t he throw up afterwards?" Atticus interjected, his face blanching as he remembered the incident.
Esme’s expression contorted with concern as the symptoms made sense. "He must’ve contracted the disease. This... this isn’t good."
"The disease?" Acheron didn’t want to believe it either.
When the door opened again, it was Donovan who walked in.
"I need to speak with Acheron," he said, making their heads turn toward him. "Alone."