“Are you crying?” Malachi’s voice broke through the silence like a thunderclap.

“No. I was… The wind…” Nomi stuttered. She sat up and swiped at her face. She’d been lying on a scrap of blanket near the stern, Malachi a few feet behind her, propped against the hull with his hand on the tiller.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, more quietly. “Are you well?”

There were so many things Nomi could have been crying about. Leaving her sister, fear for her brother and parents. Heartache at the thought of Asa’s betrayal.

And she’d been crying over the beauty of the stars.

She couldn’t tell Malachi that.

“I’m fine,” she said, cursing the hoarseness of her voice. She cleared her throat.

The stars still pressed close, so close she imagined she could pluck one out of the sky, if only she stood up and reached.

“Since you’re awake, I could teach you how to steer,” Malachi offered.

Nomi scooted over to sit on the other side of the tiller, her own back pressed against the wooden hull. “So…”

“So.” He gestured that she should put her hand on the tiller.

Together they held on to the rough wood, their hands a few inches apart. Immediately, Nomi could feel the tension running through the handle. She followed the movements Malachi made, saw the sail tighten. The constant rush of water against the hull filled her ears. Running to their right, Viridia was a hulk of black that swallowed the stars.

“Keep her into the wind, like this,” Malachi said. “Slight adjustments, that’s all.”

Slowly, he removed his hand. Nomi tightened her grip as the tension in the tiller increased. She concentrated on keeping her hand steady.

Beside her, Malachi sighed and slumped back.

“You should have told me you were tired,” Nomi said. She watched the sail, waiting for the small shifts of wind that she’d have to adjust for.

“I’ve never been so tired in all my life,” he admitted.

“Rest,” Nomi said. “Your wounds are still healing.”

“Was that a command or a suggestion?” he asked, shooting her a glance.

For a split second, the familiar contrition swirled through Nomi, tightening her chest. But, with an effort, she forced it away. She wouldn’t apologize for being forthright. How would the world change if she didn’t make it change?

“It was the truth,” she said.

He let it go without commenting further. When he pulled a couple chunks of jerky from their bag of food, he offered one to her.

Nomi chewed at the tough meat and tried to keep the boat steady.

“Follow the wind,” Malachi said at one point. “If it takes you farther away from shore, or closer, follow it. Sailboats travel by zig and zag. It’s all about using the wind to our advantage.”