Flux

when he examined his lover’s chest: a long, jagged scar was there, coursing from sternum to navel. Its edges were red and inflamed-looking, but the wound was closed. Miner had been stroking and licking that chest just two nights ago and the skin had been unblemished.
    Ennek shuddered violently and began to shiver even more than Miner was. Miner gave the rest of his body a cursory inspection—shredded trousers and no shoes or socks, but not obvious other damage—and looked around for anything that he could use to warm them. He sighed with relief when he found a canvas bag tucked into the bow. It proved to contain a single thin blanket, a small dagger in a leather scabbard, and a book of matches in an oilcloth bag. Miner tucked the dagger into one of his boots and stuck the matches in his trousers pocket.
    He shifted Ennek around so he lay at the bottom of the boat, curled on his side. It was a very tight fit, but Miner managed to cram himself next to Ennek. He realized that the blanket wasn’t large enough to cover all of his lover's body so, after a moment of indecision, he ended up stuffing Ennek’s bare feet into the emptied canvas bag. Then he pulled the blanket up and wrapped his arms tightly around the big body next to him. The bench seat above them shielded their heads a little from the sprinkle of rain.
    It was strange, really. Now that Miner was free of the pirates, now that he knew Ennek had somehow survived, now Miner was afraid. He supposed that was almost a good thing—it meant that he once again had something to lose. He should have been heartened. But adrift at sea with no food or fresh water or real shelter, and with Ennek unconscious, all Miner felt was scared and exhausted. He pressed himself against Ennek as tightly as he could and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

    ***

    Ennek was still dead to the world when Miner awoke.
    The sun had risen again and the sky was a cloudless blue. The sea was calm and, to Miner’s delight, the air was actually slightly warm. Not hot, but balmy enough that he and Ennek were no longer shivering, and he had some hope that their clothing would dry. Unfortunately, his tongue felt thick and furry and he had no idea where they were, bobbing peacefully along on the featureless expanse of water. The sail hung limply in place with no wind to fill it. There were two pairs of oars tied inside the hull, but he wouldn’t be able to row with his broken wrist, and in any case he hadn’t a clue which direction to head.
    Every time he moved his arm, his wrist hurt him anew. The flesh was badly swollen and ringed with purplish bruises; his hand felt stiff and clumsy. At least it was his left. He sat up and did a more careful inventory of the boat, finding a loose bit of wood that used to support one of the seats. He pried at it with the dagger he’d found until it broke free, and then with a great deal of difficulty, he tore a strip of fabric from his undershirt and used it to tie the makeshift splint to his lower arm.
    And then he waited.
    He checked on the other man every now and then, but Ennek continued to lay there unresponsively. It must have been the magic , Miner realized. Strong magic always wears him out and makes him ill. Although Miner wasn’t certain exactly what Ennek had done the previous days, or how, it was clear that he had invoked his wizard powers.
    For hours and hours, nothing happened. Miner couldn’t tell whether they were floating in one place, or whether the current was taking them somewhere. There were no landmarks at all; simply the gentle green swells of the water and, above, the flawless blue of the sky. There were no signs of life, no real movement other than the sun’s slow crawl. Ennek didn’t stir. Miner hadn’t eaten for two days and his empty stomach joined his panoply of aches.
    And then as Miner sagged dispiritedly against the boat’s side, untangling Ennek’s curls with the fingertips of his good hand, two things happened. First, a bird flew overhead. It was too high for him to be sure, but he thought it might be a gull. That was slightly heartening—Ennek had told him that gulls rarely ventured far from land, and that sailors often kept an eye out for them as a sign that they were near to shore.
    And then, more importantly, Ennek moved. He shifted a bit under the blanket and moaned and his eyes fluttered open. He smiled slightly when he focused on Miner. But then his smiled faded and he lurched upwards. He got tangled in