Rubbing my palms up my cheeks, I sighed and then slid from the bed. I folded my nightclothes, sliding on clothing more reasonable for strolling the deck. The daggers I slid into my boots were a small balm to my nerves, but I wrapped my cloak around my shoulders and slipped out the cabin door.
Moonlight cast a pale glow across the wooden planks and shimmered on the dark water around us. Jyn stood nearby, leaning on the gunwale and peering into the calm ocean below, his dark hair tied back at the nape of his neck. He turned as I approached. “You okay, Princess?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Maybe. I thought I had a nightmare, but . . .”
“But inexplicably, you couldn’t sleep?”
“I guess,” I said. “Does something feel—”
“Wrong?” Jyn asked. He returned his gaze to the water, waiting until I leaned beside him to say, “Yes. I couldn’t sleep either. I’m not sure why, though. I’ve searched the ship and the horizon. I can’t seem to shake the feeling.”
I stared at the waves, glad that I wasn’t alone in my strange apprehension. My attention hung on the ocean though and my brows slowly drew together. “Jyn. Is that normal?”
The calm water had begun to pitch and roil. Jyn straightened, scanning the sea. Above us, the sky remained clear, the curtain of stars bright and unclouded. We exchanged a glance. He didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. Reflexively, he drew the daggers from his boots. That was all the response I needed.
“Should we—”
He shook his head. “No. No need to alert anyone until we’re sure.”
“But—”
Jyn raised his hand, his eyes widening as my hair fluttered around my face and the wind blasted to life around us. The sails snapped violently, the ship groaning in protest against the growing storm. Taking a step backward, Jyn drew closer to me and then reached behind him to grab my wrist.
“Go. Wake Camion. Grab nothing but the essentials. If we capsize, extra weight will only drag you down. I’ll wake Meryn and Andimir.” I hesitated. He met my eyes, tightening his grip. “Go, Princess. I’ll be fine.”
My stomach didn’t agree, but I moved.
Too late.
The ship rocked, hard. Beneath my feet the deck tilted, throwing my balance. Jyn moved swiftly, one hand gripping a rope, the other tightening around my arm. His daggers clattered across the boards, then halted as the ship leveled out again. Crew voices sounded. Loud. Panicked.
A ghost of a laugh carried across the wind. I spun, in perfect timing with Jyn. In front of the ship, rising from the water like a tidal wave, grew a figure. Swirling water spun in on itself, twisting into a feminine form.
Eurybia.
Around her the storm raged, the wind howled, even though the sky above and the water on the horizon remained calm. She flicked a wrist. A wave, taller than the masts, flooded the deck. Jyn locked his fingers through mine, but his grip slipped as water pelted us both. I scrambled to catch myself as the deck tilted, and failed. My hands slid across the slick surface. Jyn stretched, barely catching my fingertips before the ship shifted again. I slammed into him. He looped an arm around my waist and gripped me to his side as I wrapped a length of rope around my wrist and braced for the next wave.
Water flooded the deck. The masts leaned, almost sinking below the surface. My eyes darted across each face that scurried by. An ache spread across my chest. No one who flew by me was more than passingly familiar. With the way Eurybia tossed the ship, I didn’t know if they were even conscious.
I couldn’t breathe.
As though she were determined to draw out our suffering, Eurybia circled the boat slowly, pulling the masts upright again. A cat, toying with her prey. Her water form solidified. She appeared more human, though her legs were nothing more than a wave carrying her along. Her laugh, laden with cold amusement, filled the air.
“So, you’re the little queen.” Eurybia tilted her head. “You don’t seem so hard to dispose of.”
My eyes narrowed on her. The words ignited flames in my chest. I straightened my spine and found my footing as I tried to conceal my trembling. Voice low, I snarled, “You can try.”
Jyn closed his eyes before he growled under his breath, “Do you have to bait the Titan trying to drown us?”
“I don’t think trying is the word,” I murmured. “If it’s going to be the last thing I ever do, I intend to go out boldly.”
Sadness filled his face then, his hold tightening, but he nodded. A bang caught my ear. The cabin door snapped open. Camion, dressed and armed, with a nasty split down the side of his forehead. Alive, though. Conscious and alive.
My joy fell flat when the hatch remained closed, when I remembered we might have minutes at most. Still, I shook the rope at him, watching as he twined a length around himself before securing the end nearby. Camion faltered when he looked up at the Titan cackling down at us. After he caught Jyn’s pointed stare, I saw the moment hope left his eyes.
My heart stuttered and failed. Jyn caught the expression on my face, held my gaze, shook his head. Not today.
I didn’t see a way out.
He shook his head again.
“Do I make you nervous, Sahrian?” I stilled at the offensive slang. Eurybia laughed, bending closer, the tiny braids of her hair brushing the sails. “Too bad you’re utterly useless. An Elf without his powers? What exactly is the point of your existence?” She snorted, then straightened.
His nostrils flared as the hatch finally sprung open—Andimir, Meryn, and the remaining crew members clambered on deck. Meryn looked disheveled, draped in one of her nightgowns. Silver chains hung with crystals glinted at her neck, alongside the necklace holding the small silver key. No weapons hung at her sides, her boots cast away, but her bag was slung over her shoulder.
She knew.
Meryn knew we weren’t going to walk away, and she would drown herself with the weight of those books alone, if it meant keeping them out of the wrong hands.
Bile rose in my throat.
Eurybia studied Meryn, brows pinching, but she shook her head, dismissing the brief recognition that lit her eyes. Her attention slid to Andimir. “Ah, yes. The captain my father so favors.” Her liquid features rippled into a grimace. Then she smiled, a cold, tight-lipped smile. “I’ll enjoy being rid of you for that reason alone.”
The ship rocked under another mighty wave. Andimir and Meryn were thrown, barely managing to grab the side before they were thrown into the sea. Several of the crew didn’t manage to find a hold, falling into the dark water. Eurybia lifted her arms, summoning walls of water that rose to encompass the ship. Her smile grew.
“Run,” Jyn yelled. “Run and don’t stop swimming until you’re far from the ship.”
My feet were already moving, Jyn’s fingers locked tight around mine. Footsteps pounded steadily across the boards. I risked a glance behind. Camion raced across the ship, a handful of steps away. Meryn clutched Andimir’s wrist, dragging him along. His face was torn, but the fear in his expression wasn’t for himself—no, his eyes kept bouncing around his crew, at the number of lives he knew were about to be lost.
No concern for himself, only his people. As if even one life was too many.
Guilt plummeted into my stomach like a weight, stalling my progress. Jyn tugged my arm sharply and I leapt from the edge of the ship. His fingers slipped to my throat, to the cloak around my shoulders. He ripped the thick fabric free as we fell, plunging under the dark waves.
Water pressed down on me from all sides. I scrambled for the surface, gasping for air when I finally broke through. I kept rising, though, tendrils of water weaving themselves around my neck, head, arms, torso. Panic roared in my veins. I twisted and tried to find my companions, the crew, anyone. Instead, my liquid bindings tightened, resistant to my struggles, lifting me from the swirling sea until my nose was an arm’s length from Eurybia’s face.
“You think I’m so easy to escape, little queen?” Eurybia laughed. Moonlight glinted off the iridescent scales on
her cheekbones and temples. Her blue eyes studied my face for a long moment. “You’re younger than I expected for a queen. Even for a human.”
“I’ll kill you all the same,” I snarled. Tendrils curled up around my throat, tightening, pressing into my windpipe.
Her eyebrow lifted. “Perhaps. If you weren’t so breakable. So human.” She spat the last word like a curse, then shrugged. “I grow bored of you.”
My air was gone, like a switch flipped. I thrashed against the black closing in on my mind, but the effort was wasted. Vaguely, I heard voices. Yelling.
They might have been in my head.
Then, I was featherlight. Flying.
Falling into darkness.
Chapter 15
Silk brushed my skin. Confusion settled in my mind, then fear. My training took over and I lay still, eyes closed, taking slow breaths. I listened for sounds, sought any unfamiliar noise that might clue me into my whereabouts. Beyond the soft shuffle of feet and whispering voices, there was nothing of use. I inhaled slowly. None of the spice-heavy scents filling my nose were familiar, not even reminiscent of Meryn.
I tested my limbs. No restraints, but my limbs shook painfully. A headache gnawed from behind my eyes. I squeezed them more tightly shut, groaning at the effort. My thoughts restarted, finally, crashing into my mind like angry waves.
Eurybia.
The ship.
Water.
So much water.
Fear, pressure, and the burn of flames in my lungs. Then . . . nothing.
Only darkness.
My eyes popped open. I took in my surroundings, the bed I laid on. Crimson drapery closed me in on all sides. Silk sheets slid fluidly between my fingers, the color dark enough to blend into the shadows. I stretched my arms and reached for my bow but found only blankets. Empty blankets.
Cam.
Meryn.
Jyn.
I bolted upright.
The regret was immediate. My head spun and blurred the room around me. I froze, inhaling deeply. Nausea roiled through my stomach and the spicy, cinnamon scent of the room overwhelmed my senses. I pressed my forehead into my palms, threading loose hair between my fingers. Clothing tugged at my chest. I untangled a hand to free myself and paused. The black silk dress draping my form was completely unfamiliar. A deep vee neckline ended just between my ribs and the itch of lace prickled up my back.
Possibilities entered my mind but, as I wracked my brain, no answers surfaced. Wherever I was, I hadn’t been here before. Not that it really mattered. I needed to know where my companions were.
If they were safe, if they were even . . .
No.
I choked down the thought. Grabbing a handful of drapery, I shoved the dark velvet aside and slid to my feet. The hem of the dress fell, brushing my ankles. Around me, the room was decorated in the same shadowed colors. Furniture of deep-toned woods, heavily ornamented mirrors on the walls. Candles flickered from silver sconces. Tall pillars of wax dripped, unfettered, to whatever surface lay below.
I scanned the furnishings briefly and the dark reds and blacks that adorned them. My attention locked onto a door—one far more ornate than I had expected to find on a bedroom. I shook away my growing confusion and strode forward to wrap my fingers around the polished silver handle. The door opened easily under my hand.
The guard outside jumped. I scanned his armor, seeking a crest, and was disappointed to find he wore unadorned mail.
“Where are my companions?” I demanded.
“Your Majesty—”
He knew who I was. I couldn’t decide if that was to my benefit or detriment, as I insisted, “Are they here? Are they alive?”
When the man froze, I made to storm off. He grabbed my arm. I whirled, blinking slightly at the dizziness that swept over me. The guard hesitated, then stammered, “Your Majesty, I think—”
“Princess?”
A lump caught in my throat. I jerked from the guard’s grip and turned around. My eyes burned.
Jyn. Worse for wear, maybe, but alive. Whole.
He strode forward and scooped me into his arms, squeezing me against his chest. The faded scent of coconut and hazelnut touched my nose, almost buried beneath the scent of cinnamon around us. I relaxed, hugged him closer, and ignored the tears that streamed down my cheeks.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he whispered, tightening his grip. “I thought—”
His voice cracked. I pulled away, resting a hand on his cheek. “I’m okay. We’re okay. That’s a start.” I took a full step back to assess him. The corner of my mouth twitched. “What is that?” I gestured at the clothing he wore, a grin spreading across my lips.
He rolled his eyes, shifting his weight uncomfortably under my scrutiny. He didn’t seem to enjoy the silky black shirt and pants set he had been stuffed into.
“I don’t want to talk about this. Preferably ever,” he grumbled.
I almost laughed, but the emotion fell flat. “What about the others? Have you found anyone else?”
Jyn shot a wary glance at the guard standing behind me. “The guards I’ve passed haven’t been any more help than yours. If I hadn’t heard you down the hall . . .”
“How long have you been awake?”
“Not too long,” he admitted. “Do you know where we are?”
I faced the guard again, crossing my arms over my chest while I tried to hide the wince that flickered across my face. He dipped his blond head before saying, “The Palace of Kalum, Your Majesty.”
Kalum. How had we ended up in Kalum? Last I knew, we had only begun to pass the southern islands into the Sea of Fire. Kalum was too far inland for us to have simply washed up on shore.
Jyn tensed beside me. Reflexively, he reached for a blade. His eyes shot down to his bare feet, to the missing boots, seeking the daggers he no longer had. The muscles in his jaw twitched.
“Where are my companions?” I demanded, stalking closer to the guard.
The guard winced. “In this hall. I’m not sure which rooms. Queen Audri asked us to keep you all calm and settled until she had a chance to speak with you.”
My heart skipped. Rooms. Multiple survivors—who?
“Thank you,” I murmured. “How many?”
“A small handful. I couldn’t tell you names, Your Majesty. I wouldn’t know.”
“I appreciate your help, all the same.” I turned to Jyn. “Split up?”
“Not a chance,” he replied, nostrils flaring.
I slipped my arm through his elbow, leaning into his side. “I’m okay, Jyn.”
“Tell that to your slight limp,” he muttered. “Or the way you wince when you move.”
His eyes were soft, though, as I said, “But I’m alive. So, I’m okay.”
“I know.” He sighed, patting the arm looped through his. “The purple half of your face isn’t exactly making the forgetting any easier.”
“What?” I lifted my free hand to my cheek and prodded the spot with my fingertips. I flinched. There didn’t seem to be much, if any, swelling left, but my skin was tender to the touch. “How bad is it?”
He grimaced but didn’t respond, steering me to the far end of the hallway instead. The guards there had the same story, all shy, all unwilling to give us information about our companions. When we tried to go past, though, they didn’t hinder us.
The first two rooms were laid out with crew members, makeshift beds thrown where there was no other space for the men and women. All the rooms were decorated similarly to the one I had awoken in—dark colors with silver accents, covered in rich fabrics. Relief coursed through me that so many had survived. That they hadn’t paid a terrible cost for unwittingly being caught in the midst of a waking nightmare.
When I opened the third door, my hope railed thin. But there, near the back of the room between two of the crew, a shock of red hair caught my eye. My heart leapt from my chest as she clambered to her feet, my tears falling anew.
“Meryn,” I breathed. I raced to thr
ow my arms around her, ignoring the pain that tore at my muscles.
She groaned at the impact, steadying herself against the dresser behind her. “Easy, Nat. I’ve only been awake for a couple of minutes.” Her eyes flitted to Jyn as she looped an arm around my waist. “Good to see you’re still kicking. What about the other two?”
My stomach clenched. Two. I hadn’t even thought about Andimir. Jyn noticed my anguished expression but misunderstood. “He’s okay, Princess. Camion is strong, and a far better swimmer than I would have credited him.”
“No,” I whispered. “I forgot about Andimir.”
The other two paused, Jyn’s throat bobbing before he said, “He’s a pirate. He’ll be all right. And he’s been gone a long time, Princess. You can’t be expected to adjust to his return this quickly.”
His words didn’t make me feel any better. After a moment, Meryn loosed herself from my hold, tugging at the dress she wore—one identical to my own. Her eyebrows rose appraisingly before her hands flitted to her throat, clamping onto the necklaces there. A sigh of relief escaped her as she scanned the room for her bag, finding the satchel tucked between the nightstand and the bed.
“How did that survive?” I asked softly.
“Magic.” She hefted the leather strap over her shoulder, settling the weight across her chest before she said, “We won’t find anything without these books. They were worth the risk.”
I frowned. Expending her energy to save those books, in that situation . . . I shook my head. I didn’t agree with her choice, but she had survived and I was too grateful to pursue the matter. In the pause between thoughts, my fears rose again and pushed at me, nudging me to find Camion. Andimir.
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