All the Tides of Fate

by Adalyn Grace

  “You really ought to learn how to stop when you’re ahead.” He sighs but scoots closer. “Don’t worry, we’ll work on that. Now, for your question, it’s simple. I just don’t know what to do with this thing.”

  He holds up a bone, squinting to peer at it in the sunlight. I lean in, trying to see if he’s looking at something different than I am. But all I see is a normal finger bone.

  “What do you mean you don’t know what to do with it?”

  “I mean I know how to summon the magic. I can feel it. But whenever I’ve tried to practice with it—whenever I’ve tried to see what it feels like—I don’t know what to do. You have your fire, your aunt has that whole stomach acid thing when she swallows a bone, your father used water … But I don’t know what to do. How did you know you were supposed to use fire?”

  I lean back on my hands, trying to remember if there was ever any sign. “It was something I just knew,” I eventually admit. “It was instinctual.”

  His sigh is far more dramatic than necessary as he waves the bone at me. “All I want to do is break this awful thing.” Plucking up the bones and teeth, he stuffs them back into the satchel. “Curse magic is so much easier.”

  “That’s because you grew up learning it.” My skin chills without the touch of the bones, and I smother the feeling. “All new magics are hard to learn at first. Look at Ferrick.”

  I nod toward the bow, where Casem tries to teach Ferrick mind speak. All Ferrick’s done since he’s been home is dive back into his training, and my heart tugs at the sight of him. I should have known that if I gave him the role as my adviser—as my most trusted partner—that he’d take it more seriously than anyone else. Watching him, I know I’ve made the right call. I’ve no idea how long they’ve been at it, but the skin around Ferrick’s mouth is tinted red, and within seconds of watching him he’s already nursing a fresh nosebleed.

  Across from me, Bastian winces. “Fair point. Still though, it doesn’t feel great knowing I’ve got the strongest magic in the kingdom and no idea how to use it.”

  “You shouldn’t use it anyway,” I say. “That magic was never meant to be practiced by anyone other than a Montara. When Kaven tried to have others learn it, the majority of them died.”

  “They did,” he agrees with a small nod. “But it wasn’t the same. They didn’t have the real thing.”

  “It’s not worth the risk.” The anger within me flares. “We don’t know what will happen if you use it, and I want you alive. We’ve got a curse to break, so leave it alone. If you ever have to use it, gods forbid, you’ll know how.”

  “You say that, but how—”

  “You just will, all right? I promise.”

  To my surprise, the rest of his argument dies on his tongue, and the tension in his body eases.

  “Are you two going to work all morning, or are you going to join us for breakfast?” Shanty calls, hands cupped around her mouth for effect. Today her hair’s a fresh mint green that matches her eyes, which are winged out with beautiful fluorescent-pink liner. Though I know it’s nothing more than a glamour, she’s dressed sharper than anyone traveling on a ship has a right to be, donning a shimmering pink cape that puffs lightly around her like a beautiful cloud. Her loose collared shirt hangs with two of the top buttons undone, so faint a pink it almost looks white, and is tucked into beautiful lavender pants that billow out at the hems. Today, she’s distinctly Ikaean, with taste as expensive as mine and Bastian’s.

  “What happens when you Ikaeans run out of unique themes for your outfits?” I nod teasingly at her clothes as Bastian and I move to join them, followed closely by Ferrick and Casem.

  Shanty flicks a grape into her mouth. “Impossible; the world’s too interesting. There will always be too many ideas, and not enough time for them all. Now, breakfast?”

  Only when I pop a cube of cheese into my own mouth does she resume shuffling her cards, pleased. As she shuffles, her nails turn from a pretty plum color to a deep, vicious red.

  “You trying to earn back everything you lost on Kerost last night?” Bastian teases, and I notice he’s toying with a small amethyst box.

  Unbothered, Shanty bats her hair over her shoulder. “You wish. I don’t know how to lose money, pirate. All I do is win.” She clears her throat to draw our attention to the inside of her coat as she peeks it open, flashing a fat rose gold coin purse tucked into one side. She does the same with the other side, and this time there are two coin purses.

  It’s all the rest of us can do not to gawk at her.

  “That’s all from last night?” Bastian asks, not bothering to hide the jealousy in his voice.

  “The house always wins, right?” Shanty muses. “For part of the night, I played as the dealer and pocketed some chips to use when I turned back into a player. Coupled with Ferrick’s winnings, we could have bought that whole den. You know, they ought to figure out some counters against enchantment magic. Everyone might as well have been handing me their money.”

  Vataea’s bark of laughter is so sharp and genuine that it’s impossible not to join in.

  “Stars, Shanty.” Bastian shakes his head. “You’re a monster.”

  “I appreciate that.” At some point, without me noticing, she’s drawn out a thin knife. She stabs it into the grapes, piling them up onto the blade. As quickly as she maneuvers it, she never once misses. Several times though, she presses her blade down too hard and digs the steel’s tip into Keel Haul. Every time it happens, Bastian’s frown grows more severe.

  “What’s the update on Curmana?” Ferrick asks Casem, trying to distract from Shanty’s clear attempts at irking the pirate. Sweeping some seagull jerky and cheese into my palms, I shift focus to my guard.

  “I was able to get in contact with their adviser as we left Kerost,” Casem says between mouthfuls of jerky. “They’re expecting us in two days’ time, and are ‘thrilled to finally have the chance to have the queen on their soil.’ Apparently, it’s been ages since they’ve had a visit from the royal family, and they’d love to throw out all the stops. Baroness Ilia Freebourne will be there to greet you, and they’ll have all bachelors ready and waiting to sweep you off your feet.”

  He pauses for some cheese, not bothering to force any enthusiasm. For him, this is nothing more than a trip away from Mira and all the wedding planning he’s dying to do. I’ve no doubt that half of his time on this ship has been spent using mind speak to communicate with his fiancée like the sappy romantic he’s become. “There will be food and wine, and plenty to restock on when we’re done with our celebration. All you have to worry about, Amora, is making them fall in love with you. That’s a note that comes directly from your mother, by the way. She’s not thrilled about the change of itinerary, but she’s glad you’re taking precaution.”

  Gods, I can’t wait to find Ornell and end this ridiculous charade. When my people learn the truth of what I’ve done, they’ll either love me for it, or they’ll hate me. But either way, my job will be done.

  “I can’t wait.” I manage to keep at least some of the bitterness from my voice as I tear off a bite of jerky. “Now what about the island itself? Have any of you been there?”

  Ferrick and Vataea both shake their heads, while Shanty bites a grape from her knife and says, “I’ve been there on business. I’m happy to share the details if you’re all interested?” It’s clear she’s talking about more than the island’s geography.

  While part of me hates to admit it, I am interested. Ferrick, however, looks queasy.

  “I’ve been there plenty,” Bastian says, sparing us from having to hear the details. As he speaks he pushes the small amethyst box toward me, as if needing a distraction to do it. “It’s impeccably clean, but there’s not much to do. They grow hundreds of different herbs in the jungle that wraps around the northern edge of the island, and use them to develop powders, potions, and the majority of the medicine that gets shipped directly to Suntosan healers. Their spas are popular because of those herbs; they�
��ll throw them into the water you bathe in, or make them into tonics and oils they use as they massage your skin to relax you. They say that in Curmana there’s an herb for everything. You remember that powder I used on the guards back in Arida’s prison last summer? That’s where it came from.”

  “Sleeping powder?” Shanty guesses aloud, smiling when Bastian doesn’t correct her. “Oh, I love a good sleeping powder.”

  “It’s a beautiful island,” Bastian continues. “But it’s quiet. Consider Curmana simple elegance. For those looking for an adventure, I wouldn’t recommend it. Everything closes early, and it’s all a bit stuffy.”

  A place that’s quiet and relaxing sounds better than anything right now. Besides, if it’s truly that calm and quiet, that should make my job of finding Ornell even easier. “It sounds lovely,” I say, and though Bastian shrugs, his lips curl into the tiniest of smiles. I take the box he slid toward me and open it. “If you could arrange it, Casem, I’d love for us to be able to visit those spas—”

  Inside the box is ginnada, and my heart leaps to my throat.

  “Where did you get this?” It’s a silly thing, but just the smell of the sugary almond paste is enough to make my heart heavy. They remind me of Arida, back before Kaven. Of my parents and me stuffing ourselves full of the dessert every time the cooks made them for a celebration.

  Father loved them even more than I do.

  I breathe in the smell of them and shut my eyes. Since losing my magic, I’m not as hungry as I used to be. Back then, I had an appetite that was practically insatiable, as I constantly needed to replenish my energy for my magic. But even without my old appetite, I would put down an entire ship full of ginnada if given the chance.

  “I know you love those things.” Bastian doesn’t look at me when he says it. Though there’s no trembling or shyness in his words, the anxiety within him buzzes in the pit of my half-missing soul. He scratches the back of his neck, boyish and anxious. “I picked them up back in Kerost, it’s no big deal.”

  But he’s wrong. Because all I see as I stare at the ginnada is the warm brown of Father’s eyes. All I hear is his bellowing laugh.

  I wish Bastian would stop being kind. That he’d stop caring, at least until I remember how to care that same way. At least until I’m no longer so empty inside.

  “I can’t accept this.” I press the box back into his chest, unable to steady my trembling hands. I don’t watch to see the look in his eyes, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling his pain.

  “It’s just ginnada. You don’t have to—”

  “Eat it if you want.” I can’t keep the chill out of my voice. Each breath is too tight in my chest, constricting me until I’m on the verge of bursting. “Or throw it overboard, I don’t care. But get that out of my sight.”

  All I hear is Father’s laughter. All I see is his blood on my hands. The sword in his stomach.

  Gods, why won’t he stop laughing?

  “Amora—”

  Shanty takes hold of Bastian’s shoulder, slowly shaking her head.

  I hate the pity in her eyes.

  I hate the pain in Bastian’s, and how it mirrors my own.

  I hate the way they all look at me, like I’m some hurt animal to be consoled.

  And I hate more than anything how alone I feel when they’re all right in front of me.

  Shanty said they might understand, but looking into their eyes, I know now she was wrong. They’ll never understand.

  “I’ll be in my cabin.” I force myself not to stumble as I stand. “Someone fetch me when we arrive.”

  One foot in front of the other, I force myself away from their eyes. Down the stairs, to the cabins. I barely make it to a basin before I throw up.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Curmana is every bit as beautiful as I imagined, and nearly identical to how Bastian described it. And I’d tell the others as much as we file off the ship, if only I’d talked to them at all in the past two days.

  We arrive to sand so pure and white that, despite the five Curmanans standing before me as our crew descends Keel Haul, it’s difficult to believe anyone even lives on this island.

  “Welcome, Your Majesty.” A beautiful woman with silky ice-blond hair dips into a bow so low that the fabric of her cotton pants—cut short at the ankles—sweeps against the white sand. Her porcelain skin is so smooth and poreless that she looks more spirit than human. A tall, lithe, birdlike spirit, with a sharp nose and pale, round eyes.

  The woman wears a black silk top with straps made from delicate silver chains. While it’s significantly warmer here than it was in Kerost, there’s still enough of a bite to the air that she wears an onyx cape inlaid with a silver emblem I recognize as a zolo leaf—Curmana’s most popular medicinal herb, used in almost every remedy across every island. At once I know this is no spirit, but the Baroness of Curmana, Lady Ilia.

  I glance to her belly, still swollen from her recent pregnancy, and notice the deep shadows beneath her eyes that come from having a newborn. Though I’d seen Ilia in passing during Father’s reign, we’ve hardly shared words with each other. Her brother had stood in Ilia’s place during our recent advisory meeting on Arida because she’d only just given birth.

  Ilia straightens, a smile plastered tight to her lips. Unfortunately, that smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I hope the sea offered you a kind journey?” she asks by way of friendly conversation. I’m quick to oblige, fully used to this polite charade.

  “It did, thank you. I’m glad to finally be here, Lady Ilia. Though I hope you know you didn’t have to come see me yourself. I would have understood if you were busy with your newborn.”

  Her pale pink lips pucker. “Just Ilia is fine, thank you. And it’s no bother, Your Majesty. I may be a mother now, but I am still this island’s adviser; there are duties to uphold. My wife, Nelly, is watching our child, so don’t worry yourself. It’s such a pleasure to have you here on Curmana, and to finally have the opportunity to show you our island.” Even her voice is a frigid breeze. Her sharp face remains expressionless, not entirely matching her words.

  The rest of the crew is quiet behind me, but from the corner of my eye I catch the uncertainty in Ferrick’s expression and know I’m not the only one Ilia is making anxious. Her beauty is ethereal, but that only makes her more terrifying. She leads me across the flat white sand, so dense that my boots hardly sink into it. “I’ll show you to your room, where you can clean up for the party tonight. You’ll be meeting—”

  “There’s a party tonight?” I hate the spark of joy that flares within me, wanting to stomp it out. I’m here on a mission, not to slip into a dress and dance the night away. And yet I can’t stop the buzz of excitement that prickles my skin, wanting desperately for the distraction.

  Not to mention that a party means there will be crowds. And in that crowd, perhaps Ornell will be waiting.

  “Some might call it the best party Visidia has ever seen!” It’s a new voice that speaks, one far less shrewd and much more boisterous. Another woman is barreling excitedly down the shore, beautiful honey-blond ringlets billowing behind her. Her eyes are a bright and familiar green—a shade I’ve seen before but can’t for the life of me place—and her smile is warm enough to melt the iceberg that’s Ilia.

  “Nelly,” Ilia begins, though her voice is warmer. “You’re supposed to be watching the baby.”

  “Oh relax, Elias is watching him for a few minutes. I wanted to meet the queen!” Nelly leans over to press a quick kiss to Ilia’s cheek, and though the adviser’s brows furrow, she ultimately relents to sighing.

  “I’m the one who planned the party.” Nelly doesn’t wait for me to extend my hand before she takes it and gives two firm, quick shakes. “We had to make a few changes given the short notice, but I promise you’re going to love it. We’ve got the best catering Curmana has to offer; imagine cakes and wine imported from Ikae, more desserts than you’ve ever seen in your life, fresh fish with mango slices…”


  The more she lists, the more intrigued Casem becomes, taking a long step forward to listen more intently.

  “Your Majesty,” Ilia gently interrupts only when I can’t imagine what food will possibly be left in Visidia after this party, “let me introduce you to my wife, Nelly. She came here from Suntosu, and works as a resident healer for the island.”

  Nelly’s peachy-pink cheeks flush. “Apologies, Your Majesty. I’ve just been so excited for your visit. We know how important it is for you to find Visidia’s next king; I want to make sure our part in that goes as smoothly as possible for you. If you’re going to find love tonight, the atmosphere has to be absolutely perfect!”

  Behind us, Bastian scoffs.

  While Nelly’s look is one of determination, Ilia’s is bemusedly apologetic. The look she casts me is one that says at least she knows this has nothing to do with love or romance, but is for Visidia. I’m sure her brother, Elias, filled her in after the council meeting.

  “My wife is very much a romantic,” she offers, to which Nelly grins.

  “And there’s nothing wrong with that! Besides, nothing ever happens on Curmana. Having you here will be a nice change of pace for the locals.”

  “But first, we should show Her Majesty where she and her guests will be staying.” Ilia keeps her shoulders squared and her body tall as she walks, as though she’s balancing something as heavy as the eel crown. Though the two couldn’t be any more different, there’s a familiarity in the way they stand side by side. A naturalness to the way Nelly’s hand slips into Ilia’s and their fingers lace.

  Jealousy blossoms within me, so bitter and encompassing that I turn away, attempting to smother the emotion before Bastian notices.

  What must it be like to be able to feel your emotions so freely and naturally? To trust the way you feel about someone else, without the complication of a curse in your way?

  I hardly remember anymore.

  “You’ll be staying at one of our spas, if that’s all right,” Ilia says, drawing my attention back from its bitter depths. “I thought it’d be the most fitting place for a queen and her attendants.”