by Cameo Renae
“There,” she announced. “Now, we can lay out our bedding.
After the bedding was down, I sat, leaning my back against the wall. The bobbing of the ship was making me nauseous, and we hadn’t even sailed out of the port yet.
“You look pale,” Sabine said, kneeling in front of me. “When was the last time you fed?”
I had to think about it. I hadn’t fed since . . . “Spring.”
“Spring? That was five days ago. No wonder you look pasty. You need to feed.” She searched through her pack, withdrawing her small blade and bowl.
I rubbed my cheeks. “I look pasty?”
Markus glanced over at me. “Pasty is a nice way of putting it.”
“Gods.” I whined and hunched over, hugging my knees “I look like a pasty vampire girl.”
“Well, you technically are,” Sabine stated. “But it obviously doesn’t matter. Pasty or not, the captain still hit on you.”
“Like that means anything,” I murmured. “He’s a pirate. I’m quite sure the peg between his legs has no prejudice.”
Sabine let out a boisterous laugh, then covered her mouth, while Markus’s face showed no emotion. “When did you feed last, captain?” Sabine questioned.
“Mid-afternoon,” he answered before adding, “from a willing contributor. And call me Markus.”
She gave him a nod and quickly looked away. “Then you should be fine for a few days.”
“Don’t concern yourself with me,” Markus said drably. “I have no problem feeding.”
I cleared my throat. “Markus, remember what the captain said. He needs all hands on deck to sail this ship. All hands. Please don’t make any of those hands disappear.”
“Don’t fret, princess. I’ve been doing this for an awfully long time and haven’t killed anyone yet. Except on purpose.” He peeked at me with one eye, cracking a devilish grin.
“Fine, Captain of the Guard,” I replied. He shut his eyes.
He was right, though. He’d learned to manage his bloodlust well before I was born, and I knew he wouldn’t kill unnecessarily. Even though he was the king’s captain, I sensed there was good inside of him. Just like the king. Maybe that’s why Romulus chose him. Because they shared similar spirits.
Markus tried his hardest to hold his hard-as-nails façade, but Sabine and I were wearing him down. Now and then he’d reveal a gentler, friendlier side, and then catch himself and fling his barrier right back up.
But his kindness had set off a chain of events. Without him, I wouldn’t have escaped, and Spring might not have survived. Not to mention the fact he risked his life to bring Sabine and Summer down to us in the dungeon.
Now we were free, and the king’s curse was broken. All because of him. Because Markus did what was right, and not what he had been ordered to do. Even under penalty of death.
It must have been rough being under Roehl’s command. Who knows what lengths Markus had to go through to prove his loyalty? I could tell there were things eating at him.
As I reflected, Markus did attempt to console me as he escorted me back to my room after the confrontation between Roehl and Trystan the night of the Shadow Fest. I never acknowledged it at the time because I’d been so wrapped up in my own misery.
I peered up at his broad, muscular frame. His eyes were closed, his breathing long and steady. One day I’d get a chance to thank him.
Sabine also glanced at Markus, and I thought they’d make a beautiful couple. They looked like they could have come from the same region, with their beautiful tanned skin, raven colored hair, and dark features. But even if they did share feelings for each other, it wouldn’t work. Not if she remained human.
Chapter Twenty-Five
While Sabine filled the small bowl with her blood, I stood and made my way to the porthole, peeking outside. “How long will it take for us to get to Incendia?” I asked no one in particular.
“Fifteen days, depending on the wind,” Markus answered, his eyes still shut. “If the wind is on our side, we could arrive in nine.”
I groaned. “Right now, I’d exchange my gift of fire for wind.”
“That would be helpful.” He grunted. “Too bad the Carpathian Prince isn’t around to help us with that.”
My head jerked to him. He had to be referring to Trystan. “Why would you say that?”
Markus turned to me with a bemused expression. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
He smirked. “I guess he hasn’t told you about his gift?”
“No,” I exhaled. “It hasn’t been a topic of discussion in between running for my life and being imprisoned.” When Markus didn’t respond I shifted to him with hands on my hips. “Well? Are you going to tell me?”
Markus opened his eyes. “Prince Trystan is a pureblood, born with the gift of air manipulation.”
“Air?” I turned to Sabine but was looking right through her.
I’d never thought about it before, but it made sense. It was the reason he could sail across the Sangerian Sea—what usually took four or five days—in one.
“The Carpathian prince is an elemental like you, which is probably why he felt an attachment to you,” Sabine said. “Air can either give life to fire or extinguish it.”
She stood and walked toward me, handing me a small bowl of fresh blood. “Drink,” she implored. And I did. In one gulp, the bowl was empty. I closed my eyes and let the tingling sensation work its course through my body, instantly feeling better.
“Thank you,” I exhaled, returning the bowl to her.
“You’re welcome.” She took the bowl and set it on the desk, before returning to me. Taking my hands, she turned them over, revealing the tattoos on my palms. “Incendian royals could manipulate more than one element. Especially the females. My grandmother told me a story once of an Incendian Queen who could manipulate all four of the elements.”
If I hadn’t met Leora, or experienced the gift she gave me, the story would have been hard to believe. Fire was an incredible gift. But to manipulate all the elements? That must have been some incredible power.
Sabine looked closer at my tattoos. “Although fire is dominant, it looks like your secondary element is water.” She pointed to the triangle on my left palm, which looked like it had waves within it. “But look. All the element symbols are around the circle.”
I hadn’t looked at the tattoos in detail, because Summer had placed the glamour over them. But water? I hadn’t been able to summon water. In the throne room and cell, the only element that appeared to me was fire. There was no sign that water was part of my arsenal.
“Don’t worry, Calla. I’m confident we’ll figure it all out when we get to Incendia,” Sabine said.
I pushed my back against the wall. “I hope so. I hope I’m not chasing after some insane intuition and dragging you both with me.”
“I’m glad to do it. Pursuing a dream is far greater than living a life without one. Incendia is where your ancestors lived and received their magic. Maybe it’s where you’ll find all your answers. And maybe, just maybe, the fire goddess will give them to you directly.”
I laughed. “The fire goddess?”
Sabine’s face was serious, so I cut my laugh short. “Yes. It is said that the volcano on Incendia is home to the fire goddess. And if an Incendian royal stands on the edge of the volcano and summons her, she will appear to them.”
It was hard to believe. But I was finding most myths we grew up hearing were true, and now I was a part of them. An immortal. An Incendian royal, about to sail through the treacherous sea to reach the homeland of my ancestors. A place I’d never been. A place where the magic of its people made others envious, and because of that envy, it lay in ruins.
I took a better look at Sabine. Her eyes were bloodshot and encased with dark circles. Stretching her arms over her head, she yawned, confirming she was tired.
“How are you feeling?” I asked her. “We need to get you some food.”
“I’ll ma
ke sure she’s fed,” Markus blurted. “They have a cook onboard and with what we paid, she should eat well.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Sabine said gently. “I packed a few things that could last a week if I ration properly.”
I sighed. “You can’t ration food when you’re donating blood. You’ll need a lot more than a few bites a day.” I rested my palms on her shoulders. “Let Markus get you some proper food, or I won’t accept any more of your blood.”
She stilled and after a moment tears brimmed in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I felt horrible for making her cry.
She shook her head and dried the tears trailing down her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“Sabine, I’m so sorry. If I said something to upset you—”
“No.” She shook her head. “It was the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” Her lips quivered as she looked at me. “No one has ever cared about me before.”
It was then I realized this orphaned girl probably had no real friends growing up in Morbeth. She’d likely been used and abused—a servant for as long as she could remember—being forced to do as her masters commanded or be punished.
But not anymore. Once we sailed away from Crimson Cove, she’d be free, and I’d make sure she remained free.
As Sabine lay down and Markus remained still and silent, my thoughts traveled to my father.
Was he safe? Did he have powers released when Leora broke the spell? He was also a descendant of Incendia, and if his father, Nicolae, was born with magic, then maybe he had some too. And perhaps that magic would keep him alive.
My father was a respectable man. He’d built up his wealth through arduous work, never flaunting it because he knew there were so many less fortunate. Not only in Sartha, but in Talbrinth as a whole. There were many, barely getting by, struggling to survive day by day, especially after the Great War.
My father lived by example and helped feed the hungry in Sartha. Once a week he’d donate ten percent of his earnings to hire cooks in the town. And each week, they prepared large kettles of soup and freshly baked bread for those in need. There were hundreds, many of whom were children, who lined the cobbled streets. For some, it was the only meal they would receive that week, so we made sure everyone left with a little extra to get them by.
From time to time, my mother and I would help serve them. It kept us grounded and aware of how many were struggling right in our own town.
I could only hope my father would find a place of safety to hide until I could figure out how to save him from Roehl’s jealous wrath.
A small amount of relief came from knowing King Romulus was back in power. And as long as he remained king, I knew he wouldn’t allow my father to be killed.
Three quick raps at the door and Markus was up in a flash. I did not understand how his sizeable frame, cocooned in the hammock, could move that fast.
He stood at the door and cracked it open.
“Sorry to bother you, mate.”
It was Sebastian.
“How can we help you?” Markus asked in a non-grumpy but deep voice.
“There’s a storm brewing overseas so we’ll be leaving shortly in hopes to outrun it. I’ve sent my father to gather the few remaining crew members. I just thought I’d let you know.” He handed Markus an armful of blankets, pillows, and a basket of provisions. “Small conveniences to make your journey a little more bearable.”
“Thank you,” Markus said.
Sabine and I also thanked him, even though we couldn’t see him. But the captain managed to poke his head inside and smile, his sea-blue eyes landing on mine.
“It’s the least I could do.”
Thank heavens Markus was with us. He stood like a brick wall, blocking the door from letting the captain enter any further.
“Alright then, I’ll leave you be. You know where my door is if you need anything. Just knock thrice.” He turned to leave but paused. “And please don’t mind my father if you happen to run into him. He’s an old, muddled jackass on his good days.”
Markus tipped his head, then shut the door.
“Well, well. Look who’s being the rude one now.” I giggled.
Setting the basket down on the table, he threw Sabine and I each an extra pillow and an extra blanket before settling back into his hammock.
“He interrupted my rest,” he replied. Closing his eyes and didn’t say another word.
Sabine lit a small lamp hanging in the corner of the room before walking over to the porthole and covering it with her rag. After living with vampires, she knew the protocol.
I hadn’t attempted to touch the sunlight since my hand caught fire in my cottage. That day would be forever burned in my memory.
“We should get some sleep,” Sabine whispered after eating some biscuits and cheese she’d packed.
“Yes,” I said, settling down on my pillow. It smelled like Sebastian. I wondered if he’d done it on purpose. Wily pirate.
Time seemed to slow as I waited for the ship to disembark Crimson Cove. Sabine and Markus fell asleep, so I quietly stood and tiptoed to the porthole. I could hear the voices of sailors outside and felt a slight jerk. The ship moved and I watched the dock slowly slip into the darkness.
We were leaving Morbeth. And the extra weight pressing on my shoulders suddenly lifted.
Ahead, the sea was vast and dark, and I hoped we wouldn’t become another tale . . . a ship lost, trapped in the clutches of the Sangerian Sea or its monsters, never to be seen again. We were now in the hands of Captain Sebastian Salloway and the crew of The Damned.
I remained at the window until the only thing I could recognize were the moon and the stars in the sky. Holding my hands up in the dim light, I stared at the tattoos on my palms and traced the one on my left. Water. Could I manipulate water?
I held my right hand out to my side and watched a flame coil through my fingers and dance in my palm. But as much as I tried, I couldn’t summon water. Not a drop.
How was I expected to figure out my abilities when I had no instruction or someone to train me?
I called to the water again and again, but there was no response.
In frustration, I slapped my hand against the porthole window.
The ship rocked and I tottered.
What the hell?
Was that a coincidence? Or was it me?
I glanced back to my left palm. Stepping back up to the porthole, I sucked in a deep breath, then thrust my palm against the small round window.
A line of whitewater shot in front of me, across the sea, as far as the darkness would allow me to see.
Good gods. Was this really happening? I had to see it again. Just to make sure.
Once again, I shoved my palm against the porthole. Whitewater blasted out in front of me, rocking the ship. Stumbling back, realization hit me. This was no coincidence. It was raw elemental power.
I couldn’t summon water like I could fire because water was secondary. It was something I could manipulate. Incendians were known to wield fire. It was their primary element. So water wouldn’t come from within.
This awareness made me want to find some water and see my new gift up close.
I paced back and forth, knowing the only place I could go without being seen would be the toilet room a few doors down. But there was a reason I avoided that disgusting hole in the wall. So that was out of the question. I’d have to wait.
Heading back to my bedding on the floor, Markus’s snoring became loud and rather scary. At least he would be rested for the approaching days. We needed him to be.
Sabine’s slow and steady breaths told me she was in a deep sleep. I settled down next to her, thinking about all that had ensued over the last few months. Too much to make sense of it all, and it still had my mind in a spiral. I needed sleep. And knowing the distance was growing between me and Roehl afforded me some peace.
As I settled down in the dark, the ship gently rocking back and forth, my thoughts moved to Trystan. The
bond between us had been severed. He no longer had ties to me, and for some reason the thought made me sad. I wished I could have spoken with him, at least once, before it happened. To let him know how grateful I was for all he’d done for me.
I had a feeling our paths would cross again, especially while Brynna was in his care. The thought of meeting him again, in person, made butterflies flutter in my belly.
Chapter Twenty-Six
We’d survived four long days on the Sangerian Sea. While the sun was up, Markus and I slept, while Sabine cleaned and probably read the books I’d seen tucked in her pack. During the nights, Sabine slept, and Markus left us to feed.
I was terribly seasick and suffering from cabin fever. I felt like I was a prisoner in this new cell out in the middle of the sea. I needed to breathe fresh air. I was suffocating in this tiny room.
As night fell, I became stir-crazy. I moved to the porthole and cracked it open, thankful it was even possible. I needed to get out of the room. Every day, the walls seemed to shrink.
Maybe I could sneak out, get some air without anyone seeing me, and come right back.
The ship seemed silent and the water calmer than it had been the past few nights.
I tiptoed over to the door and pushed my ear against it, listening for any outside noise. But it was quiet.
I wasn’t a prisoner. I could leave. I just had to face the consequences if any of those superstitious sailors spotted me. They’d probably make me walk the plank. And I wasn’t a strong swimmer.
I quietly twisted the doorknob and cracked it open to peek. The hallway was empty, so I swung the door fully open.
“Evening, love,” Sebastian cooed, striding out into the hall.
How the hell?
I froze, not expecting to meet him, deciding whether to slink back into the cabin and shut the door.
His sea-blue eyes surveyed my face. “Are you all right?” he asked, striding toward me. “You look pale and in need of fresh air. The deck is free. I can escort you if you’d like?” He extended his hand to me.
I inhaled and pulled myself together. The captain was a single man who lived on the sea, traveling for weeks and even months at a time before seeing the shore. There were two females onboard, and right now he was flirting with me.