by Linda Kage
I hurried to Caramel, determined to help. After digging up the Colt, I slipped it into one of my skirt pockets and searched for some more weapons before coming up with a dagger stashed on Farrow’s horse. By the time I felt sufficiently armed, however, Farrow was already stalking back to me, his murderous glare savage enough to kill someone with his snarl alone.
“They’re riding the same ferry as us,” he announced, fidgeting as if he wanted to delay our trip just to avoid them.
I nodded, peering past him. “Who are they?” They were still watching us, following every move we made.
Farrow hesitated a moment before saying, “They’re palace guards.”
My eyes flared. I instinctively moved closer to Farrow. “Far Shore palace guards?” I whispered, realizing how stupid the question was, even as I asked it. Of course, they were Far Shore knights. “What’re they doing here, so far from the castle?”
Looking as if he were having trouble controlling his angry breaths, Farrow said, “They’re on a royal quest for the king.”
“Oh,” I answered, relieved. “Then they should be far too busy focusing on that to bother with us. How do you know them, anyway?”
He didn’t reply, merely glanced at them again, not bothering to hide his glare. “If they do bother us, I’ll kill them.”
Scandalized by the venomous claim, I gasped, “Farrow.”
He turned back to me. “Promise me, Nicolette. If anything happens to me, you’ll kill them with the Colt, just like you did with the archers. Promise me.”
“I—I promise. But—”
“Good.” He took my hand, his attention already elsewhere when a voice shouted over the hullabaloo, announcing the boarding of the Cull ferry. “They’re loading. Come on, I want to get a spot that keeps us as far from them as we can get.”
Goodness, but he sure didn’t like those two men. They didn’t seem all that pleasant, not with the glares they kept sending both me and Farrow, but they hadn’t actually done a single thing to cause problems yet, either.
I decided Farrow was overreacting just a tad.
As it happened, we did not get to board first. The ferry master had all the animals loaded before the humans. I patted Caramel as she passed, silently wishing her good luck and hoping she didn’t get seasick. When people were finally allowed on the pontoon next, Farrow was a bit rude with how he nudged others aside to keep them from even accidentally bumping into me.
Once all the passengers were on board, we were given instruction by the ferry master, who had to yell to be heard above everyone.
“The ferry stops for no one,” he began, his booming voice echoing over the roar of the river. “If you drop a satchel into the water, we do not stop. If you drop a child into the water, we keep going. If you fall into the water, have a nice life. Is that understood?”
When everyone mumbled their understanding, the ferry master went over a few more rules before hollering, “And finally, ladies! If any of you are wearing fine, sparkling jewels today, take them off right now, please. The river monsters have been thick this season, and they’re attracted to anything shiny that casts a reflection into the water.”
A buzz of confusion went through the crowd. When someone said, “River monster?” the ferry master nodded.
“Aye, Coral Reef Killers, they’re called. Swimmers with hard, elongated, pointy bills, they’ll jump right out of the water and kill you if you flash them too many of your shiny baubles.”
Having heard enough, I reached for the clasp of my wrist guards, but Farrow caught my hand. “Just lift the hood of your cloak over you to hide them,” he suggested, bidding me not to remove anything.
I furrowed my brow. “But—”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s fine. The savagery of Coral Reef Killers is mostly an old wives’ tale, a scare tactic to keep people from getting too close to the edge of the barge. I’ve never heard of anyone actually being harmed by such a fish.”
Not sure why he wanted me to keep my jewels on, I nodded and drew up my hood before tucking my hands into the inside pockets of the cloak.
As the ferry master untied the rope from the lodge and pushed us away from the dock with the biggest pole I’d ever seen, the wooden planks under my feet shifted and moved. Everyone lurched with the sway of the watery movement.
Farrow and I latched on to each other and made eye contact.
Here we go, we seemed to tell each other.
“Not the most comforting sensation,” Farrow allowed, glancing around us uneasily before his gaze landed on the palace guards loitering on the other side of the ferry. Eyes darkening, he glowered a moment before turning back to me. “I’ll be happy when we’re on dry land again.”
No doubt. I pressed my hand to my roiling stomach. “I think I might already be getting seasick.”
Farrow studied my face, and it must’ve turned green enough to concern him because he gripped my elbow through my cloak and hauled me to the edge of the ferry where I could hug the wooden side rails and feel the breeze on my face. It was misty and smelled faintly of fish, but the briskness was nice.
I inhaled deeply through my mouth. “Thank you,” I said after a moment, sagging back against him. “That feels much better.”
He wrapped an arm around my waist to support me, so I sank deeper into him to enjoy the moment. Closing my eyes, I turned my nose up to the wind and let it caress my cheeks fully.
We stayed that way for probably an hour, if not more, just holding each other and enjoying our first boat ride together.
“The water’s running swiftly today,” Farrow observed, speaking to me alone, but another voice answered him.
“Aye, we’re making good time.”
I opened my lashes and peered around my partner to spy one of the other riders also standing at the edge of the ferry as if he too enjoyed feeling the wind on his face.
Still leaning against Farrow, I asked the stranger, “Do you ride often, sir?”
He nodded. “Every weekend. I go home to see my wife and children in Blayton.”
I shook my head, confused. “Do you not live with them otherwise?”
Finally meeting my gaze, he murmured, “No, miss. I cut wood down south in Dimway. A crew of us are working on widening the king’s road for our bread and meat.”
“And your family can’t go with you?”
“The crown won’t allow it,” he explained, his loneliness seeping through. “Says it’s too costly.”
Sympathy filled my veins. Families shouldn’t have to be separated just because a parent had to work, merely so they could put food on the table and a roof over their heads. Something should be done for them. At home, Brentley had always taken the hard work of his people into consideration. He found a way to ease struggling where it was due. That should be the case here, too.
“You can’t save everyone, princess,” Farrow said in my ear.
I looked up at him curiously.
He lifted his eyebrows. “I know exactly what you’re thinking. You want to help him, don’t you? I swear, you want to help everyone you meet.”
With a scowl, I said, “Well, what’s so wrong with that?”
Adoration lit his eyes. “Absolutely nothing.” With an appreciative smile, he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I find it admirable. Maybe not possible, but quite admirable, regardless.”
A gust went by, catching the hood of my cloak and ripping it from my head. Farrow’s stare wandered around my face as if he couldn’t stop studying me until his lips loosened with pleasure, appreciating what he saw.
He didn’t say the words, but I felt them anyway. He cherished me. Maybe even loved me.
Wanting the emotion flowing wild in the air around us as thick and full as the river breeze, I said, “I love you,” so he wouldn’t have to.
His eyes swirled with need, and he lifted his hand toward me just as a shout went up, hollering, “Look out!”
We both turned, checking the water for a threat—maybe a tree was lodge
d in the river and we were about to crash into it.
But it was too late to brace for danger. Something came heaving up from the rushing waves as if the god of the undersea had rejected it and was throwing it back onto dry land. Tail flailing and long, pointed snout aiming, it writhed in a rainbow arch before starting down toward me.
I managed a single gasp, realizing that when my hood had come down, my necklace and hairpin were left exposed on full display, glimmering in the sunlight.
The pain that followed seared through the base of my throat, stabbing with hot, liquid, unending agony.
I tried to scream. Couldn’t.
Oxygen lost contact with my lungs. I reached out, grabbing desperately but only latched my fingers around pure air as the slippery, wriggling weight of the river monster plowing into me tore me from Farrow’s grasp and caused me to lose my balance until I was crashing into the railing with such force that I tipped right over the side of it. Feet going airborne, I fell off the ferry and plunged straight into the depths of the river below.
I heard my name bellowed from a distance as freezing water stabbed into me, grabbed me tight, and pulled me under.
And then, there was no more.
23
Farrow
“Nicolette!” I screamed in horror as she landed in the Cull on her back and sank into the dark, flowing waters.
Her eyes were open wide, full of terror and pain, blood gushing from her throat.
“NOO! Stop the ferry,” I ordered, already searching the deck around me for rope or anything to toss out to her. “Stop! She’s gone overboard.”
Oh, Jesus. I’d never seen a fish do that before.
And I’d been the idiot who’d told her to keep her damned jewelry on.
“Stop the fucking ferry!” I roared, just as the two guards who were supposed to have accompanied me on my kidnapping skidded up next to me and gaped out at the princess, who was washing downstream in the water alongside us.
“You killed her!” one blurted in surprise, just as the ferry master yelled, “The ferry stops for no one.”
“Goddammit,” I roared, pointing at him. “She’s going to die. You stop this ferry right NOW!”
He shook his head, eyes filling with sympathy. “Even if I wanted to, mate, the current’s too strong. There’s no stopping this ferry.”
Fear bloomed inside me.
No.
“Sorry, son.” The old man who’d been talking to Nicolette just a moment before patted me dolefully on the back as she sank under the surface. “But I’ve never seen anyone survive a Coral Reef Killer attack. She’s as good as gone.”
“Fuck that,” I growled before diving off the ferry and into the water after her.
She couldn’t die; she just couldn’t. I refused to live in a world where she didn’t exist.
If she didn’t make it, neither would I.
The water was frigid. It instantly stiffened my limbs from the shock of the cold and made my arms not want to move, but then I saw a glimpse of Nicolette’s dress fluttering to the surface of the river just ahead of me, and I ignored the stubborn paralysis in my body as I dove forward. I cut through the current with every ounce of energy I had and reached her in moments. Blood filled the water around her, helping mark her place.
The fish who’d attacked her was long gone and no longer a threat, not that I was worried about him. Livid enough about the damage he’d done, I felt confident I could rip him apart with my bare hands if he decided to return.
Because Nicolette was not moving.
Gripping her arm, I jerked her head above water, babbling, “Nic. My God, Nic. Are you okay? Answer me!”
She didn’t respond. Her eyes were frozen open with the death stare, and the gaping hole in the base of her throat told me there was no way she would survive this.
A sob burst from my lungs, even though I refused to believe it.
“Just hold on,” I told her, struggling to keep her head above water and keep myself from going under as I fought the current, trying to move us sideways through it and with it at the same time, floating our way gradually toward one of the banks.
The ferry passed us with the royal guards cupping their hands around their eyes as they watched, trying to determine if the princess was alive or not. Next to them, the ferry master heaved two bags over the side of the pontoon—our possessions—and waved good luck to me.
My muscles screamed and my lungs heaved. We were swept miles downriver before I managed to move us close enough to the edge to stand and drag Nicolette to shore with me.
Soaking wet, we reached dry land, which wasn’t actually dry at all, but more muddy and filthy than anything, full of rocks and debris and fallen tree branches.
Too exhausted to care, I tenderly placed the princess on the wet ground and then collapsed beside her heavily, taking a moment to pant and catch my breath before daring to look at her face and accept the truth.
Limbs shaking from exhaustion and fear, I finally pulled myself upright so I could peer down and check the damage.
“Christ,” I rasped. “Nicolette?” I wiped some hair from her cheeks and then gently closed her eyelids for her.
Another choked sob worked its way from my throat, but I swallowed it back down, refusing to believe. Because she couldn’t be gone. She couldn’t.
Her wound had stopped bleeding, but the gash gaped open gruesomely, torn ragged flesh exposing bone and meat and muscle. No one could survive that.
I closed my eyes and bowed my head as trembling seized my shoulders. “No,” I chanted. “No. NO! This can’t be happening.”
A dry heave worked up my throat, and my eyes burned as I opened them and looked down at her still, pale face. She’d been so alive only minutes ago. She’d gazed at me with adoration and told me she loved me.
Christ, she had loved me.
And I—I…
I couldn’t lose her.
“Don’t leave me,” I begged. “Please. I—” More trembling seized my frame, rattling my voice. I was going to shatter apart any moment. “I need you. I need you. Don’t you fucking understand?”
I’d just begun to believe I could actually do this. I could save Sable. I could keep Nicolette. The three of us could go away, some place far from the king of Far Shore. And we could live out the rest of our days there, happy and safe. Together.
She had made me believe anything was possible.
“You can’t go,” I swore. “You can’t. You said I wouldn’t lose you. You promised me. Dammit, Nicolette. You promised. Now open your fucking eyes.”
She didn’t.
I splintered; a dry moan scraped the insides of my throat. This was my fault. I knew exactly what would happen if I cared for someone again. I’d even warned myself not to. But I’d come to care for Nicolette anyway. And look what had happened.
I’d done this to her.
“Nic…” I shook my head, and everything inside me grew tight. Burning. Shying away from the pain even as it grew and morphed, consuming me, I fisted my hands and pounded them against the ground. “I’m sorry.”
This wasn’t supposed to happen. How was I going to go on?
I couldn’t. Not without her.
But she was gone. The river had washed away her concealer that had been hiding the tattoo. I wiped the wetness from her face and squinted at it as it started to fade.
What the…?
Why was it fading? Tattoos didn’t fade when a person died.
The love mark is a special tattoo, Nicolette’s voice floated through my head. She’d told me so much about them, and I’d only listened with half an ear, not interested in fairy tales.
I knew you’d come for me.
I shuddered out a heavy breath. She’d truly believed in that damn mark, more than I’d ever seen anyone believe in anything.
I felt your presence the moment you were brought into the castle as a prisoner at the end of the war.
I brushed my thumb over it. Then tapped it five times, unable to h
elp myself. The sparks that spurted from it were faint, dying.
But not completely gone. Not yet.
I’ve seen true love’s kiss bring people back from the dead.
My lips parted. No. It couldn’t be possible. I didn’t believe. Once someone died, they were gone. But I was willing to try.
I’d attempt anything to bring her back.
Gulping, with my lungs stuttering with fear—not sure if I was more worried that this wouldn’t work or that it would—I leaned down, closed my eyes, and gently touched my mouth to her cold, bloodless lips.
It was like kissing a dead fish. Chilly, slippery, and wet, she even smelled like one. When her mouth didn’t tighten to kiss me back, I pressed against her harder, praying louder.
Please, please, please. I don’t know how to go on without you.
She’d entered my life like a whirlwind and scattered everything all around: my priorities, my feelings, my goals. And now I was altered. She couldn’t leave again, just like that. I hadn’t had enough time with her.
A hoarse sound broke from my lips as I pulled away.
She was gone.
“No…” I stroked her hair, then cupped her face desperately, unwilling to accept it. “Please. Nicolette, I…” I’d never told her. She’s said the words to me repeatedly, and they’d meant everything. And I hadn’t even once uttered them to her in return.
“I love you,” I whispered now, pressing my forehead to hers, not sure how to deal with this, how to go on, how to exist. I wanted to lie down next to her, hug her to my side, and die with her.
The first tear plummeted down my cheek. I closed my eyes and slapped the ground next to her head. “I’ll do anything,” I yelled.
Under me, Nicolette sucked in a sharp intake.
My eyes flashed open. “Nic—”
Her chest heaved as she began to cough, sludgy water gurgling from her lips.
“Jesus!” Gripping her shoulder, I rolled her onto her side, where she vomited half the damn river. She looked so weak and frail, panting for oxygen with her hair and clothing soaked, but she was alive. Gloriously, wonderfully alive.