by Adalyn Grace
The stars flicker and dim in Bastian’s eyes. They become dangerous things, sharp as the sword he has sheathed onto his belt. “We can’t abandon Keel Haul.” His sharp chin juts toward the quiet waves. “Besides, leaving this ship would mean we’d not only have to find another vessel, but also a crew. Who knows how long that might take? As Amora said, we’ll just have to be more careful from here on out.”
Though Ferrick frowns, the logic is enough that he doesn’t protest.
Mist rolls onto the deck, bringing the cold with it. I miss the cloak that waits, magicked and miniature within my satchel.
“How far to Kerost?” I ask, only then noticing how purposefully the boys are looking away from me. I don’t think it’s the cold that flushes Ferrick’s cheeks.
“Don’t you want to change?” he asks awkwardly, clearing his throat.
I peer down at the mess of my white trousers, soaked with salt water and stained with blood. It’s unexpected, as my bleeding is often irregular, happening perhaps once a season. Every time it comes, my lap looks as though it’s the sacrificial altar of a small animal. The ridiculousness of it’s enough to make me laugh, which causes both Bastian and Ferrick to grimace uncomfortably.
“You should eat something with iron tonight,” Bastian offers, trying hard to look me in the eye so he can feign comfort. “I hear that’s good for those who are … indisposed.”
Ferrick nods in vehement agreement. “I hear salmon helps with that. Perhaps tuna would work the same? I can catch some for you, if you’d like.” His jaw sets into a determined line, and I laugh even harder.
“You two are acting like you’ve never known someone to bleed before.” I draw myself to my feet and pull the miniature clothing from my satchel, waving it at them. “Come on, then. If you want me to change so badly, help me organize. Do you think you can handle a little blood, Bastian?” I cast a rueful smile as I undo the ribbon Liam secured on the clothes, letting them fly out and spill into his lap. “I wouldn’t want you to faint, again.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I refuse to acknowledge the skinned tuna that’s laid out for me as I join the boys on the deck early the next morning. Bastian eyes me as I feast instead on hardening ginnada and stale honey cakes.
“Don’t worry,” I tell him. “The blood’s taken care of.”
Bastian’s nose wrinkles when I smile at him between bites.
Ferrick’s severed arm has grown back in its entirety, and though his glamour has mostly worn off, his red hair still holds the smallest tint of blue. He sits across from me with his legs tucked against his chest, staring at the horizon as Bastian taught him. He’s adapting so slowly I doubt he’ll ever find his sea legs.
I pity him. Mornute and Kerost are on opposite sides on the kingdom; it’s at least a five-day journey for the average ship. We may be able to make it there in four with Keel Haul’s speed, but since we’re heading far to the southwest edge of Visidia, the sea will be colder. And that means the tides will be rougher, too.
“We should be careful,” Bastian says as he carves through the tuna. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to Kerost, so I can’t say what their current state is, or how much of their population Kaven’s recruited. I think it’s best if we lie low while we’re there.” My stomach growls when he takes a bite of the meaty fish, but since the boys only caught it because they think my bleeding makes me weak, I refuse to take any.
“I shouldn’t have to hide from my people,” I tell him between angry bites of another honey cake. “I should be able to talk to them as I am.”
Bastian slurps up another bite of the raw fish before shaking his head. “Well, that sounds like a lovely plan, assuming you’re looking to solidify your execution and completely lose the possibility of outmaneuvering Kaven.” He slices a few more pieces and slides them over to Ferrick, who groans and looks away as his skin sheens greener. “One step at a time, Princess. Right now, we need a mermaid so we can hurry and get to Kaven. Then you can help Kerost. So wear a heavy cape and pants, and keep your head low so no one recognizes you. Depending on how far Kaven’s reach has spread, we could be severely outnumbered.”
Every time Bastian mentions Kaven, he spits the name. I can practically feel the rage he fights to quell, and can’t help but wonder again—how did Bastian get his magic stolen in the first place? What was he doing with Kaven?
I want to press the issue, but for now it’s better to keep my guard up and continue to let him lead. After all, he knows this island far better than Ferrick or I do, and we need him if we’re going to reach Kaven.
“I’ll wear a cape,” I tell him eventually.
Appeased, Bastian nods. “Now, do either of you have questions?” He sits straight, posture oddly perfect. He’s far too well-mannered, and every day his outfit is something exquisitely tailored and overall marvelous. Still, there’s no denying he’s a pirate. The easy way Bastian moves around Keel Haul only comes from years of practice, as does the way his eyes scan the ocean, always seeing and knowing something no one else can.
I’m convinced Bastian is the strangest man I will ever meet. My curiosity about him grows every day.
“When can I learn to sail Keel Haul?”
Bastian bites the inside of his cheek. “Do you have any questions about Kerost?” he specifies with the arch of one finely manicured brow. I can only imagine how long he must spend before a mirror, grooming himself.
I shake my head. “Keep my head low, don’t let anyone see me, and stab anyone who tries to hurt me. I get it.”
“I never said to stab—”
“Bastian.” I press my hands to the deck and lean toward him. “I’m kidding. I can handle myself. But we have several days until we’ll reach Kerost. This is the perfect time to teach me to sail.”
He doesn’t move, only stares back at me, expressionless. “You know Keel Haul is partially run on magic. She doesn’t require much maneuvering.”
“But you’d know how to sail her even if her magic broke, wouldn’t you?” I press, not about to let him back out of our deal.
His nose scrunches distastefully, but he relents. “Fine, but no sailing, yet. First, let’s get you more familiar with the ship. You can climb the rigging.”
My blood’s like harsh ocean waves as it pounds its excitement in my ears.
“You’re fine here?” I ask Ferrick, who mumbles something incoherent and waves me away to follow Bastian toward Keel Haul’s rigging. Though the ropes sway on the breeze, they seem stable. If I don’t lose my footing, I should be fine.
“Have you ever climbed before?” Bastian squints from the bright sunlight. The winds carry the sharp coolness of the water, but the sky is bright and my body is warm from the morning rays. There’s no better type of day to be on the sea, and certainly no better day to practice scaling the rigging of a ship.
I wipe my palms on my pants. “Never. My father would sooner die than allow that. He thinks ships are too dangerous for me.” I snort, recalling the eighteen years of work it took before he even let me touch the helm.
Just thinking about him makes my throat thick with emotion. If only he could see me now.
“There’s nothing to catch you if you fall,” Bastian says. “You should be fine, just be careful. It’s your first time, so go slow. There’s no one to impress.”
I scan the space above, searching for any potential mishaps. But Keel Haul keeps steady and the rigging is stable to my touch. It’s practically inviting me.
I grind my feet into my boots, ensuring a snug fit as I wind my fingers around the ropes. I barely lift one foot before I look down. My racing heart’s a trickster, telling me I’m already high up on the rigging. In reality, it’d only take a single step to hop down.
Ferrick watches cautiously from the deck, his eyes narrowed and anxious.
“You sure you want to do this?” Bastian’s words lighten with amusement as he pulls himself onto the rigging beside me, sporting a silly grin. It makes me want to push him off t
he ropes as much as it makes my stomach flutter in a way I’d rather not think about. A pirate has no right to look so handsome.
I peer up once more, skin hot with nerves, and tentatively grab on to another groove in the rope. I try to tell myself that my body was built for this. That the lean muscles that thicken my arms and curve my thighs—built from years spent with Casem and his father, training with blades—were made for this moment. They won’t let me fall.
The rigging sways beneath me as I draw it toward my chest and ease onto the next step, one at a time. Bastian’s beside me, slow and patient as I cautiously ascend Keel Haul. We’re halfway up when my foot misses its mark and I falter, digging my hands into the rope and gasping for breath as I hang there.
Bastian has his body protectively around mine within a second. His warm chest presses against my back, steadying me, then he slowly eases his foot beneath mine and guides it back into position. My face goes hot as his hand sets on my hip, making sure I’ve caught my balance.
“Relax.” His words are a mere whisper; they buzz pleasantly against my neck as the wind knocks wispy curls into my eyes. “We’re climbing up the windward shroud, the weather is mild, and you have a handsome and experienced pirate to look out for you. You can do this.”
My eyes shut as I summon the courage to keep climbing.
Step by step, not looking down or any farther up than I need to, we continue our climb.
My hands are raw from the ragged ropes. Forming a fist around them hurts, but mentally every step becomes easier than the last. I hardly notice when Bastian stops. His eyes rest on mine, gleaming wickedly against the sunlight. He wraps one arm through the ropes, then flips himself to face the sea. He winds his other arm similarly, protecting himself from falling, and winks.
“You want to see Visidia, don’t you? Take a look at your kingdom.”
Sweat beads on my forehead. I can’t will my limbs to move.
Bastian’s words are gentle when he speaks again. “It’s worth it. Trust me. Just wrap your right arm in the rope and turn.”
Easier said than done. My heart beats so fiercely I fear it will break my ribs. There’s only one way to settle it.
I don’t look as I wind my arm through the rope, as I watched Bastian do. It holds my weight easily, and though I know it won’t drop me, it’s another moment before I’m able to release my free hand, trust the ship, and spin my body around.
When I open my eyes, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful.
“Amora! Are you all right?” Ferrick calls from below.
I laugh.
I’m fine.
Perfect.
The ocean below twinkles as if dusted with millions of crystal shards. Bastian and I are side by side with the seagulls, so close I could reach out and snatch a fish from one of their beaks. They squawk at us, either welcoming us or offended by our presence. A laugh rattles me when Bastian squawks right back at them.
By Cato’s blood, this must be what it feels like to be free. I never realized how nice it would be.
I turn toward the pirate. His eyes are mirrors of the twinkling ocean as he stares far into the horizon. His chest is still and his breathing easy, relaxed.
I understand why he’s made the ocean his home. It’s marvelous and uninhibited. Tangled in the ship’s rigging and overlooking the sea like its figurehead, a small part of me can’t help but wonder what it must be like to live like this. To go wherever you wish, day after day.
“Look,” the pirate whispers. I don’t understand his quietness until I see where he nods.
Dolphins. There’s an entire pod of them below the surface, painting the water as pink as their skin. One pops up, then another, as my heart swells. It’s like we’re on top of the world.
“Beautiful.” Bastian’s face has gone soft and gentle. He doesn’t look anything like one of the dangerous, pillaging pirates I’ve heard stories of. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” I admit. “You’re lucky. You get to see things like this every day.”
His smile softens and his gaze grows distant, as if he’s seeing something an ocean away. Dolphins dip and bob in the water. They shrill happily, flocking around Keel Haul like it’s their plaything.
Bastian leans back. He’s turned the ropes into part of his body, trusting them fully as he reclines. “How long have you wanted to travel?” he asks quietly. When I turn to question him, he only laughs. “I can see it in your eyes. A kingdom is too small for you, Princess. You should be ruler of the entire sea. Not everyone adapts to life on water as quickly as you have. I mean…” He nods down to Ferrick, who sits on the deck squinting up at us.
I can’t deny it. “Ever since I was a child. When I was ten, I wanted to sail to Valuka to hunt down the fire serpent that’s said to live in their volcanoes. I tried to form my own crew, but no one would spare me a second glance.”
“I’m not sure how I would feel about a child as my captain, either,” Bastian says with a laugh.
I shake my head at him. “It was never about my age. My parents were only able to have one child, who would be one of only two heirs to the throne. My father has always been protective. He commanded that I stay on Arida, and no one was ever willing to go against him. I tried to stow away a few times after that, but I was always caught. Now they do a full sweep of every ship before they leave the docks.” Though I laugh softly at that last fact, it’s more to cover the discomfort of the memories. They’re not my fondest ones.
“My father’s always had a thousand tales of his adventures,” I continue. “There were stories of how he scaled the mountains of Valuka on the back of a wild kelpie, and of the night he had too much wine in Curmana before he went deep-sea fishing and reeled in one head of a hydra.”
Despite how much the memories make me ache, recalling those stories also makes me smile. When I was a child, I loved listening to them every night before bed. But as I grew older, that stopped being enough. I no longer wanted to listen to them; I wanted to live them.
I’ve always wanted to travel through Visidia with Father. Together, I dreamed that we might one day face the Lusca, or possibly even team up to find that fire serpent.
But now, I wonder if those dreams can ever be our reality.
“He never brought you along?” Bastian asks. “Not even once?”
The words spur a strange discomfort within me. The expression on Bastian’s face is enough for me to know he’s looking for more of an answer than what he’s asking for.
“Never. It was always one excuse after the other with him.”
“And you never stopped to think that maybe there was more to it?” He lifts his chin sharply. “That he could be hiding something? I can understand not letting you go on your own, but it seems odd to me that he wouldn’t even take you with him.”
I turn to look west, toward Kerost, and think back to the necklace buried beneath a protective stocking in my boot—magic from an allegedly banished kingdom, that had somehow found its way onto Mornute. The threat of a Zudian named Kaven, who is forming a rebellion against Visidia for a goal that could end in the kingdom’s ruin—the ability to learn multiple magics. The very same goal that nearly destroyed the kingdom in the past, and that I’ve been fighting so hard to protect.
Only days ago, I was to claim my title as heir to the throne, and yet I knew none of this. There must be more to it that I’m not seeing. Father wouldn’t keep something this important hidden from me … would he?
I shut my eyes against the sea, letting the wind press me back against the rigging. It’s a long moment of silence before my skin itches, and I peek one eye open to see Bastian watching me. His eyes are narrowed, lips turned down in a frown that matches the lines of his forehead.
“Why not run away?” he asks, so quietly that I almost believe I’m hearing things. “One mistake, and your people turned on you. Your parents turned on you. So why protect any of them? You clearly love sailing,
so why not find yourself a crew, and save yourself?”
The thought hadn’t even occurred to me.
“From the moment I was old enough to recognize what I was, I knew I was made to one day lead Visidia.” I look out at the waters of my kingdom, feeling the truth of those words in my bones. “I know I’ve still so much to learn, but I love my kingdom more than I will ever love anything else, myself included. I want to make Visidia as strong as possible, and ensure my people are safe and happy. My blood and my heart belong to Visidia, and they always will.”
It’s a long moment before Bastian twists himself in the ropes, flipping his body back around. His smile is nothing like the cocky one he usually sports. It’s soft. Gentle. A little sad.
“Let’s keep going, then,” he says. “I’ve a mast to teach you about.”
My stomach flutters as I grip the ropes with one hand and match his movements. It’s easier, this time. Keel Haul yields to me as I follow Bastian with an ease I never knew I could manage.
I’m no longer afraid.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The remains of tattered wood buildings shudder in the sharp wind, threatening to crumble should the wrong breeze strike.
The air is brisk and heavy from the rain that threatens Kerost’s gray skies. I pull a ruby cloak around me like armor, disguised beneath the full hood. It hides my curves while I tuck my hair away for good measure.
Bastian’s shoulders twitch as we claw our way up the bleak shore. Damp pebbles grip my boots, fighting to pull them down as I struggle with my steps. I have to be careful. Beneath my stockings, buried at the toe of my left boot, the enchanted necklace I stole from Mornute waits to be used, should I need it. I curl my toes around the chain, ensuring it’s there.
Unlike in Mornute, the streets of west Kerost don’t bustle. There are no merchants; no laughing in the desolate streets.
There’s only hammering.
A small group is dispersed across uneven gray and black cobblestone. They threaten us with dangerous glares, wiping sweat from their foreheads and chests before returning to their work.