Free Emyr's Smile by Amy Rae Durreson

he paused for a moment. “You’re not
local, boy. Looking to rope on?”
    Heilyn couldn’t think
of anything worse than tying on to the side of a small ship on a
day like this, where the sky was heavy with rain. All the same,
there was nothing left for him here, and impulsively, he said,
“Yes. I’ve got some paintings and a bag, but no more baggage.
What’s your fee?”
    “Two pence for you and
three for your baggage. Discount if you’re the first to shout a
storm sighting.”
    “Done.” Heilyn offered
his hand and didn’t even bother to wince when the captain squeezed
it hard enough to hurt.
    “We’re only unloading
letters here. Be on board by the hour mark or we’ll go without
you.”
    Heilyn nodded and ran
for the inn. He gabbled an explanation at Elin and dashed up the
stairs to grab his bag. Elin chased after him, loud and furious,
but he didn’t care any more. He was going, and it was almost a
relief. Perhaps he could outfly unhappiness. Perhaps he could just
leave his heart down here on a low island and there would be
nothing left to hurt him when they reached the high sky.
    He beat the captain
back to the ship, Elin still on his heels, and tossed his bags on
board before he turned to face her. “What’s the point in me
staying? He hates me.”
    “Idiots, the pair of
you!” she snapped and reached out to grab one of Father Cian’s
girls as she dashed past. “You, go and rouse out Emyr!”
    “Don’t!” Heilyn
snapped. “I’m going. That’s what he wants. I don’t want to see him
glo-gloating.” His voice was catching, despite his best intentions,
and he turned into the wind, blinking hard. It was bitterly cold,
and he didn’t have gloves, but he’d be tied too tightly to slip.
He’d insist.
    The last starflower
petals whipped past him in the wind, scattered from the almost bare
branches of the tree in the center of the square. Looking up, he
could see snow on the high islands above them, and he shivered.
    The captain was
striding back towards them. “Ready, boy?”
    “More than,” Heilyn
said and turned to take a last look at the village. It looked like
it had in his picture, if somewhat drabber and colder. There were
familiar faces by every door, many turning towards him and
pointing. Father Cian was there, looking troubled, and Arianell and
her toddler daughters. Old Math was shaking his stick at Heilyn,
and Dilys was in the doorway of the shop, her hands twisted in her
apron. It was all so very dear to him, and he would miss them all
so very much, but it was time to go now. Enough was enough.
    Raising his hand, he
swallowed hard and waved to them all.
    Then he saw Emyr,
standing outside the office with his hand on the doorframe. Heart
aching, Heilyn allowed himself a last look. Emyr was still the most
beautiful man he’d ever seen, even when he looked as pale and sick
as he did today. The color had gone from his cheeks, but Heilyn
could remember how they flushed in passion. He would always
remember the blue of Emyr’s eyes too, even though Emyr had covered
them with his hand now, his head bowing down.
    He was crying, Heilyn
realized with a sudden swift shock. Emyr was crying. For him? No.
Emyr wouldn’t embarrass himself in public for him.
    “We’ll tie you on the
port side, given the wind,” the captain said. “Look lively.”
    Emyr’s hand still
hadn’t left the doorframe, and Heilyn realized that he wasn’t just
touching it. It was holding him up. Was he ill? Shouldn’t someone
go to him?
    “Before the wind turns,
boy.”
    Emyr looked up, and
suddenly, even from the other side of the square, Heilyn could see
it. Emyr wasn’t ill. He was terrified.
    Then he remembered that
the last time Emyr had watched a lover rope on to a ship in winter,
that lover had died.
    He was running before
he thought about it, hurtling across the square. There seemed to be
a whole crowd that needed to part around him, probably because half
the village had appeared to watch this, and he had