Chapter 136: Chapter One Hundred-Thirty-Six: The Ghost Light

//CLARA//

The heat had settled into my skin like a second layer, but the breeze off the water cut through it just enough to make the deck bearable.

I lay sprawled across the feather-filled mattress, my head heavy in Casimir’s lap, his fingers tracing idle patterns through my hair. The stars above scattered like someone had spilled a handful of diamonds.

In the corner, Gary stretched himself on a long, rectangular storage bench, his arms tucked behind his head as he stared at the constellations. He looked thoroughly bored, probably dreaming of a world with high-speed internet.

"I’m just saying," Gary’s voice drifted over, "that if this boat had a decent sound system, I could really elevate the vibe. Some lo-fi beats? Maybe a bit of synth-wave?"

Casimir’s hand paused in my hair, his fingers tightening just a fraction, clearly not understanding a thing about what Gary was talking about.

"If you’re hallucinating sounds, Elias, I can arrange for you to hear the water rushing past your ears on the way to shore."

Gary let out a dry snort. "You have no soul, man. You need a hobby that doesn’t involve brooding."

"My hobby," Casimir countered, his eyes finally shifting over to the corner where Gary lay, "is currently contemplating how long it would take for the current to carry a man of your specific weight back to the harbor if I were to tip this bench over the railing."

Gary didn’t even flinch. He just kicked one leg over the other, grinning at the sky.

"Nah, you’re kidding. We both know you love me. Who doesn’t? I’m the entertainment. Admit it, you’d be bored to tears if it were just you and Eleanor. You’d have nothing to glare at."

"I assure you," Casimir rasped, his hand moving back to my temple, "I would find plenty of ways to occupy my time that do not involve your incessant prattling."

"Oh, I bet," Gary muttered. "Just a reminder, I am right here. Whatever you have in mind, keep ’em PG-13, please. I’m a sensitive soul."

I felt Casimir’s attention leave Gary entirely, his hand sliding from my hair to cup my jaw, tilting my face toward his. He was looking down at me, the starlight catching in his dark irises, and then he was bending until his mouth found mine upside-down, a strange and perfect angle that made my lips tingle with the wrong-way pressure of it.

His tongue swept in without preamble, tasting of the whiskey we’d shared earlier, and I made a small sound against his mouth that I knew Gary could hear.

"Is this comfortable for you?" I murmured against his lips.

"Not at all."

"Then why are you doing it?"

He kissed me again, soft and slow. "Because you’re worth the neck strain."

"Seriously?" Gary’s voice came with a theatrical groan. "I’m right here! Can we have a little respect for the life of a single man? I did not sign up for the third-wheel Olympics. This is a public space. Well, a private public space. You know what I mean."

Casimir pulled back just an inch, his lips still ghosting over mine, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"If you find the scenery offensive, Elias, you are welcome to jump. The water is quite refreshing this time of night."

"Yeah, yeah," Gary grumbled, rolling his head to the side. "You guys are gross."

I was laughing, when my gaze drifted past the black horizon and noticed something.

A tiny pinprick of light appeared, blinking in a staccato. On, off. Short, long. Short, short.

"Casimir?" I whispered. "There’s a light—"

"I see it."

He was already looking at it. The playful edge of his voice, all of it stripped away in an instant, leaving something harder beneath.

The hand that had been so gently cradling my jaw went entirely lifeless.

I sat up. The light came again, rhythmic, and deliberate. Not a fishing boat. Definitely not a lighthouse.

"Casimir—"

"Stay here."

He was already moving, pulling me to my feet with careful hands that betrayed none of the sudden tension in his shoulders.

The Captain appeared on deck a moment later, his heavy boots sounding like a funeral march against the cedar planks. Casimir met him halfway.

"Sir," the Captain’s voice taut with professional urgency. "The dispatch boat from the coast. They’ve been signaling. It’s urgent." He paused, eyes darting over me and Gary. "I think you should hear this privately."

The two of them moving to the far edge of the railing. I heard the low murmur of their voices too distant to distinguish. Their heads bent together, the captain’s hands making sharp gestures that Casimir followed with his eyes.

Gary scrambled off the storage box and sidled up to me, suddenly close enough that I could smell the salt on his skin.

"What is that? Are we sinking? Tell me the yacht isn’t sinking, Clara, because I am not prepared for a deep-sea apocalypse."

"Shh," I hissed. "Something’s wrong. It’s not the ship."

"Then what? Pirates? Are we being attack?"

Gary’s eyes darted to the horizon.

"Gary—"

"I’m serious. I’ve seen the movie. I know how this goes—"

"Shut up." I grabbed his wrist, my fingers pressing hard enough to silence him. "Look at the lights."

"What lights?"

"On the horizon."

Gary squinted, his face going slack with concentration. "Is that... is that Morse code?"

"Do you know Morse code?"

Gary bit his lip, his brow furrowed.

"I mean... I played a lot of Call of Duty and some puzzle games. I know a few letters? S-O-S obviously, but that’s not it." He squinted again, focusing on the pattern. "Uh... P? Or maybe D?"

I pressed my fingers to my temples. "So you don’t know what it says."

"Nope. Just that it’s bad."

"Great. Fantastic."

My eyes were locked on Casimir’s back, the rigid line of his spine, the way his hand still gripped the railing like he might tear it free.

After a few tense moments, the Captain dipped his head in a short, curt nod and vanished back toward the bridge. Casimir remained where he was for a moment, still as stone, and then he turned.

His eyes found me immediately, but they didn’t stay. They moved past to Gary. The look in them made me step backward without thinking.

Gary instinctively moved behind me. It was a ridiculous sight. He was nearly a foot taller than me, but he tried to shrink, using my shoulders as a shield while I stood tall, barely reaching his chest.

"Uh," Gary said. "Clara. Why is he looking at me like that?"

I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t know.

Casimir started walking toward us. His gaze never left Gary until he was inches away, his shadow completely swallowing both of us.

"He’s going to murder me," Gary whispered, his breath hot against my ear. "This is it. This is how I die. Tell my mother I loved her—"

"Don’t be ridiculous—"

"Elias," Casimir rasped, the name sounding like a death sentence. "Step out from behind my wife."

"Your wife," Gary repeated, and his hands tightened on my shoulders. "Yes. Exactly. Your wife. Who is small. And fragile. And in the way. Of whatever you’re planning to do to me."

"Elias." I shrugged my shoulders, trying to dislodge him. "Let go."

"Absolutely not. Have you seen his face, C—Eleanor? That is not a face that intends to offer constructive criticism."

Casimir’s jaw tightened.

"The ledger. Where is it?"

Gary flinched, his hands tightened on my shoulders, his breath hitching.

"I told you, I don’t remember a—"

"Don’t." Casimir took one step closer, and I found myself pressed between them. "Don’t pretend ignorance, Mr. Russell."

Gary’s hands slid from my shoulders, but he didn’t step out from behind me.

"I swear I don’t know."

"Don’t lie to me!"

Casimir’s voice cracked like a whip across the deck, making us both flinch.

He reached out, his hand wrapping around the collar of Gary’s shirt, pulling him forward so that Gary had to lean over me to face him.

"I have sacrificed my name, my reputation, and the peace for my wife. I have taken you onto my ship and fed you at my table. And now I find that the men who want my head are using your name as the reason."

"Casimir, stop!" I cried, trying to wedge myself between them. "He doesn’t know anything about a ledger!"

"Does he not? Or is this yet another secret you’ve been keeping from me?"

Casimir finally looked at me, but there was no warmth in his eyes. Only a cold, hard suspicion that made my heart break.

"I’m going to ask you one last time," Casimir whispered, his face inches from Gary’s. "Before I decide if you are a guest... or use you as an anchor. Where is it?"

Gary swallowed hard, his entire body trembling.

"I have it."

I blurted it out before I could even take another breath. I didn’t even know why I said it, but I remembered the matchbook I’d taken.

Casimir’s sharp gaze lashed toward me. He let go of Gary’s collar, but he didn’t relax. He stood there, vibrating with a suppressed, violent energy.

"What?"

I held his gaze, watching as confusion flickered into disbelief.

"The ledger," I repeated. "I have it."