Poised on the deck of the Current of Faith, Sefia watched the sun sink into the waves. Night spread across the sky like spilled ink, dripping into the golden sea below.
While the songs and conversations of the crew arose from belowdecks, Meeks crept up beside her. “Look to the horizon, remember?” he said. “That’s where the adventures are.”
She was glad of the company, though she didn’t take her eyes off the water. “I’ve had enough adventure to last the rest of my life. I don’t need any more.”
He shook his head, making the shells and beads in his dreadlocks clink together—small sounds like raindrops. “There’s all sorts of adventures, Sef,” he said.
The light in the water dimmed, all the gold overwhelmed by the black. In the east, the constellation of the great whale was rising out of the ocean, spangled with stars.
“You had to let him go,” Meeks said.
“Did I?” Her voice cracked.
He put a hand on her shoulder. “It was supposed to happen from the beginning, wasn’t it?” His warm brown eyes sought hers in the darkness. “Because it was written?”
“And ‘What is written always comes to pass,’” she whispered.
With a sigh, Meeks let his hand fall. Leaning down, he planted his elbows on the rail and put his chin on his fists. “He’d want you to move on, I think.”
“I know.”
The warm glow of the sun disappeared, and soon they were awash in the cool light of the stars, twinkling distantly overhead.
For a long time after, Meeks remained beside her, uncharacteristically silent, watching the horizon.