Florence wandered over to Talon’s castle of palms to check on the patient, and there she found everyone sleeping as well, even the octogator. Sean moaned quietly in his sleep, and Carina reached out to comfort him with a touch. Peace had come, finally, but not without a price.
Florence walked back to the fire to find Talon waiting for her.
“Do you sleep?” he asked.
“Not often, but I’ve been known to doze off every few weeks. Do you?”
“I do, but sleep eludes me tonight. How is your arm?”
“It’s . . . fine. It’s just lying in the ship.”
Talon chuckled. “What I mean is, do you have any pain in the place where it should be?”
“No. It’s inconvenient to be without it, but I’m lucky—I have no pain. Which reminds me of something I’ve been meaning to ask you about. That eel lit you up like a fireball. I was afraid for you.”
Talon looked at her with a crooked smile. “Were you? Afraid for me?”
Florence felt her face grow warm. “I was afraid for everyone,” she said. “Do you feel pain?”
“Some.” He didn’t elaborate. Instead he looked at the fire and said, “To be honest, I’ve had days when I wished I could let myself be killed, for I have had a lifetime of lifetimes. My body is not invincible, and that eel could have taken me from this never-ending monotony and into the next life. I would be lying if I said I didn’t consider letting it. Or taking your arrow meant for the eel.”
Florence tried to think what it would be like, living thousands of years, caring for the life and accessories of a giant crab. “But you didn’t.”
“Taking the arrow was only a fraction of a second’s thought before I realized how it would make you feel, so that was never a true consideration. And I have others who depend on me. Lhasa, Karkinos. Bock. Even the hibagon, to some extent. But they would survive without me if they had to. Though the crab . . .” Talon trailed off.
“What is it?”
Talon looked at her. “I don’t wish to trouble you.”
“Tell me, Talon. Please. Perhaps we can help.”
Like any great leader in tune with the needs of others, Alex’s eyes popped open at Florence’s words. He turned to face the fire and began to listen to the nearby conversation, unnoticed by Florence and Talon.
“I don’t know,” Talon said, his voice full of doubt. A shadow passed over his face. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do.” He looked out at the crab’s claws, silent and floating before them. “I’m afraid Karkinos is dying.”
Florence sat up. “Oh no,” she said, dismayed. “I’m sorry. How horrible for all of you.”
He didn’t deny it. “He’s not in pain, thank the gods. But . . .”
“But what?”
Talon sighed deeply. “I don’t know what will happen once he’s . . . gone.”
Florence wasn’t sure what he meant. “You mean what will happen to his body?”
“Well, that, yes, but to his shell, too. And to us.”
Florence’s mind raced. “What do you think could happen?”
“I don’t know. When the bottom-feeders finish off his body, will this shell remain intact? Will our island move about at the whim of the currents? Will our vegetation die too? If it does, Bock and the dropbears will starve. And what of the squid and Issie? They’ll lose their protector.” Talon closed his eyes, defeated. “I don’t know what to do.”
“But—” Florence began, her thoughts whirling. “How long does he have to live?”
Talon opened his eyes again, but he didn’t look at her. “It’s hard to say. He’s in a slow decline. We may have years left, but I believe that could change at any time. I’m doing my best to give him the care and comfort he needs.” He frowned. “That thrashing eel didn’t do him any favors.”
Florence’s expression was one of deep concern. “Is there any way I can convince you and the others to come with us?”
Talon afforded a small smile. “I’m afraid I cannot abandon the crab. And after so many hundreds of years together, I doubt the others can abandon me. But I suspect you knew that.”
Florence was silent for a long moment. Then, in a soft voice, she asked, “What will happen to you?”
Talon stared at the fire. “Perhaps it will be the end of me. Perhaps . . . perhaps Karkinos’s death is the answer to my predicament.”
The silence was overwhelming. Alex stared at the flames, his heart in a clutch over what he’d just heard.
Florence glanced sidelong at Talon. “Do you still wish to be done with this life, then? If we were to journey this way in the future and find the carcass afloat, are you saying we might not find you here? Not anywhere?”
Talon looked down and murmured, “That you would think to search for me is an unexpected treasure I shall cherish.” He touched Florence’s hand, making a clinking sound, and said in a low voice, “I must admit, dear lady, that the hope of seeing you again erases every morbid thought from my mind. I would indeed live on for the chance of that.”
Florence looked down at Talon’s hand on hers. “It might not be often,” Florence found herself saying, as if she had been planning their next visit already. Beneath her six-pack warrior abs, an entire host of butterflies swarmed.
“If only once in a hundred years you find me, stranded and alone upon this rotting carcass, I should not complain,” Talon said. He swallowed hard and dared turn to look into her eyes.