Princess at Sea

by Dawn Cook

  My gaze went between them, Jeck’s horrible certainty starting to frighten me. Kavenlow didn’t want to accept it—didn’t want to believe—but I knew Jeck was right. My levels wouldn’t be dropping. Ever.

  “I am sorry,” Jeck said, his apologetic tone making me miserable. “I didn’t know this would happen. She was bitten, and I tried to save her life. To make her unusable was not my intention. That you yourself don’t believe it possible is my only defense.”

  Kavenlow’s fingers on his glass were deceptively loose, and I knew from his distant expression that he was starting to believe. “We will proceed carefully until we know more,” he said, not looking at me, for which I was grateful. “Tess will have no toxin, and she will not use her magic, allowing her residual levels to drop.”

  The taste of honey in my mouth grew flat. From the corner of my sight, I watched Jeck pull himself forward. “They aren’t going to drop,” he insisted. “And if she were my apprentice, I would find out what her tolerances are. Immediately. And go from there with the appropriate precautions.”

  Kavenlow speared a carefully cut square of meat, equal on all sides. “She was bitten by a punta. She isn’t tasting venom or performing any magic for at least six months. If careful testing at that time puts her threshold higher than I like, I’ll not risk her further. I don’t care if she can manage master-level manipulations or not. I’ll not balance her life against the single dart of a rival player. And her levels will drop if she shuns all toxin and magic. They always do.”

  My throat closed, and I alternated my gaze between the two of them. I knew more certainly than the sun would rise tomorrow that Jeck was right, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it, and I could feel Jeck looking at me, biting his tongue to keep from demanding I do just that.

  “She has been doing incredible twists of magic safely since we got off that island,” Jeck said instead, and my face burned at my cowardice. “Did she tell you she manipulated the people at the gate into a calm state after they recognized her and knew something had happened to the queen? The entire crowd?”

  “She’s been doing that since she was fourteen,” Kavenlow said gruffly, not looking up from his plate as he pushed his food around.

  “And the rays,” he offered, an eager intentness in him I didn’t understand. “She charmed them into following us, even up onto the beach. Even now, the harbor is full of them. It’s because of her.”

  Fearful, I glanced at Kavenlow, but he shrugged. “Her ability to manipulate animals has always been high. It’s one of her better skills. I’m not surprised that’s happening if her residual venom levels are elevated.” Kavenlow sighed, his brown eyes tired as he turned to Jeck. “I’m not arguing that her levels are high and she’s doing incredible things. But I will not risk her life on a game, Captain Jeck.”

  “Risk is part of the game,” he said, and tension filled me.

  “Of course it is.” Kavenlow’s voice was hard, and I forced my jaw to unclench. “But hers is not an acceptable risk anymore; it’s an extraordinary one.”

  “And so are her abilities.” Jeck pressed his lips together. “Sir. Reconsider.”

  Kavenlow laced his fingers together and leaned over his plate. “Why do you care? She is my student. Not yours.”

  I didn’t move, afraid they might remember I was here and make me leave.

  Jeck hesitated, taking a slow, steadying breath. “Sir,” he said softly, as if loath to say his next words. “She is able to regulate the amount of killing force through her hands, to give a nonlethal dose if she chooses. Even I cannot do that. If you insist on dismissing her out of hand—”

  “I am not dismissing Tess out of hand,” Kavenlow snapped, his fist beside his plate going white-knuckled. “If her punta bite endangers her life beyond the normal risk, she will not be a player!”

  I took a deep breath, trying to find enough air. I knew that’s what was going to happen, but to hear him say it made it irrefutable.

  Jeck leaned forward, not backing down. “You’re ignoring the larger picture. Yes, her tolerances have been pushed to what is likely to be an unsafe level, but so have her skills. I say go cautiously, but go! A player won’t waste a dart on another unless there is a reason. She’s in no more danger than she would be otherwise as long as no one knows of her elevated levels.”

  Kavenlow’s eye twitched. He wiped his graying beard carefully and set the napkin in his lap. “You know,” he said, his voice flat, angry, and heavy with the cadence of threat.

  Jeck’s face went still. Slowly he sat back. He never looked at me. “Yes. I do.”

  I swallowed hard, watching the tensions rise.

  “I’d have to kill you to keep it quiet,” Kavenlow said.

  Frightened, I felt my muscles tighten. My pulse raced, and I felt a wave of vertigo. Chull bait, I swore, as my fear dumped a sliver of venom into my veins. I forced myself to relax, pulling on a lifetime of control. But Jeck only smiled, his eyes telling Kavenlow he wasn’t going to make any sudden moves. “You could try,” he said. “Or you could give her to me.”

  Shocked, my mouth dropped open. Eyes wide, I stared at Kavenlow, then Jeck. I didn’t want to be Jeck’s apprentice. I was Kavenlow’s!

  Kavenlow hunched like a bear over his plate, his short fingers trembling about the delicate stem of the wineglass. “She is my apprentice,” he said, a shocking amount of anger in his soft voice. “You won’t have her, Jeck.”

  Jeck leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “If you tell her she can’t be a player anymore, she’ll come to me. The game is in her blood. She doesn’t care about the risk.”

  Mouth dry, I couldn’t move. Kavenlow stood in the harsh sound of his chair scraping, his shoulders tense and angry.

  “Stop it!” I shouted, standing up as well. “Just stop it! Both of you! And stop talking about me as if I weren’t here! I don’t belong to either of you!”

  His face quirked with an irritating confidence, Jeck eased back in his chair, his expression wry from behind his freshly trimmed beard to make him look both annoyed and amused. “Your apprentice seems to have something to say. You should teach her to mind her place.”

  I turned to him, face warm and knees shaking. “And what would that be, Captain?”

  Kavenlow sat back down. His motions were still quick with tension. “Tess is a princess by law. Higher rank than both of us put together. It would do you good to remember that aspect of her is as real as her apprenticeship. If not more.”

  Jeck’s eyebrows rose a bare fraction. “My apologies. I assumed that when talking of player matters, she reverted to an apprentice in full.”

  My legs shook, and I wondered why the wind in my head wasn’t taking advantage of my shaky state, but there wasn’t a whisper or chortle despite the trace of venom making my shoulder ache and my legs wobbly. “I am always a Costenopolie princess. Just as you are a Misdev captain,” I said, hearing my voice tremble.

  He nodded once, taking a drink of his wine and accepting that.

  A soft cadence of boots on tile came distantly. Kavenlow flicked a glance at me, telling me to sit without saying a word. “Would you like more wine, Captain?” Kavenlow said, as I reseated myself. It was their agreed cue to change subjects in the palace, where interruptions were rampant.

  “Thank you, no.” He covered the top of his glass, hardly touched.

  We all turned as the captain of my sister’s guard entered, his attention going to me first, then Kavenlow. My heart clenched. Something had happened.

  “Princess, Chancellor, Captain,” he said in greeting. His face was both puzzled and pleased. “Ah . . . Duncan is here.”

  Twenty-two

  I rose in a sliding sound of silk, almost unaware I had moved. My pulse shifted into a quick pace, and I put a hand on the table until the dizziness caused from the venom it dumped into me passed. “Duncan,” I said intently. “Where?”

  “The main receiving hall, Your Highness.” There was none of the hesitation from Resh
I had seen earlier this morning.

  Gathering my skirts, I ran in a skittering of slick-soled boots into the hall.

  “Your Highness!” the guard protested.

  Faint behind me came Kavenlow’s voice. “Let her go. She can take care of herself.”

  Hope lifting through me, I continued down the torchlit corridor at a near run. Princess or not, I could get away with it. I’d been running in the halls my entire life. The staff was used to seeing me with my dress streaming and my hand to my head to keep my topknot from falling apart. As a guard, Jeck, too, might be able to get away with running in the halls, but he’d be with Kavenlow, and Kavenlow kept a more decorous pace—generally.

  Feet skidding, I made a turn. At the end of the hall was the main reception room, unseen but for a small bit of tile floor and wall. I ran to it, lurching to a stop at the open archway.

  Duncan had apparently heard my feet and turned from his crouch before the fire beside the dais, ever burning at coals. A guard was with him, his voice soft in conversation. Duncan’s eyes lit up as he saw me, and upon standing, he held out his hands, smiling.

  “Duncan!” Relief made my steps falter. Eyes fixed on his ragtag figure, I said breathlessly to the guard, “Leave us.”

  “Your Highness,” the man in Costenopolie green and gold said, almost laughing when he turned on a heel and walked smartly away. The guards in the palace—especially the younger ones—liked Duncan. And they knew I did, too.

  “Tess,” Duncan whispered, and I finished crossing the large room, my footsteps sharp and quick. His hands met mine, and he pulled me willingly to him. I didn’t care if the guard was gone or not. I put my cheek against his freshly washed shirt, taking in the smell of mint, salty mud, and the new scent of the ash on his hands.

  “You’re alive,” I said, my voice small sounding. “You escaped them.” I pulled my head up, my hand touching his shaven face. It dropped at a sudden thought. “Contessa! Is she all right? How did you get away?”

  “Chu pits, woman,” he said, smiling to tell me everything was all right as he tucked a curl of my hair behind my ear. “Shut up for a moment. Kavenlow is probably right behind you, and I’ve been waiting five days to do this. I own you now, you know.”

  Smiling roguishly, he tilted his head to mine. His arms went about my waist, and he eased me willingly closer. Breath catching, I leaned into him, the motion as gentle and familiar as it ever was. My eyes closed as our lips met, and my body eased.

  His hand rose from my waist, curving around me. Not a hint of his scraggly beard was left, and I sent the fingers of my good hand behind his neck, approving of the lack. With a slow exhalation, our kiss became deeper, more tender. It reached an as-yet-uncrossed line and hovered. My heart pounded as I felt him hesitate, then reluctantly retreat.

  I was a fool, I thought, even before his lips broke from mine and pulled away with a teasing slowness. Duncan loved me. I could be happy with him. I could live the life of a nomad, writing letters of correspondence or totaling sums for merchants not willing to do it themselves. I could make my own way without relying on anyone and live my life with someone who loved me. Wasn’t that what was important?

  The fire leapt when the wind from the bay scoured over the chimney top, pulling the small flame Duncan had stirred higher. A gust swirled in from a distant window. It went slack and slow upon finding the large room. A curl that had escaped my topknot shifted. Within my thoughts came a chattering of demand, easily overpowered.

  Be still, I admonished the wind in my head, pulling Duncan back to me with a new feeling of abandonment. His eyes flashed open in surprise, then he responded. Again we kissed. His hand shifted hesitantly to the small of my back, the faint pressure becoming firmer when he felt my new acceptance. I reached upward, finding the nape of his neck, drawing him close. His breath quickened, meeting mine. Warmth tickled behind my closed eyes: tears for having decided to leave Kavenlow and all I’d worked my life for, tears for having said yes to Duncan.

  A distant shutter banged, and I heard a distant cry of dismay, but here by the dais, all was still. Duncan pulled from me, and I looked up at him. He smiled, wiping a thumb under my eye. “I was so worried for you,” he said softly, and my chest tightened with an unbearable weight that he cared for me so much. “I thought they had killed you. I should have known you were all right. But how did you get off that island so quickly?”

  A dry rasp of boots scraping across the tile jerked me from Duncan. I stumbled back, my upbringing making a warmth come to my cheeks. I reached to check my topknot, then my skirts, though nothing needed adjusting. Jeck and Kavenlow were just inside the archway, watching.

  “K-Kavenlow,” I stammered, taking a step from Duncan though my fingers remained intertwined with his. “Duncan is here. He got away from them.”

  Duncan is here, I thought. Chu pits, how soft in the head was that?

  “So I see,” Kavenlow said thinly, his expression pained and full of acceptance.

  I looked to the fire before he could see the heartache in my eyes. I couldn’t be a player anymore, and I wouldn’t make Kavenlow tell me to go. He knew it as well as I. Duncan, though, had a defiant gleam to his eyes that didn’t surprise me. I’d often felt like a bone of contention between them. With that kiss, Duncan seemed to know that he had finally won. As did Kavenlow.

  So why do I feel so miserable?

  “Duncan,” I blurted, turning back to him. “We’re eating. Are you hungry? Come sit down, and you can tell us everything while you eat.”

  I took a step to the hallway, my hand slipping from his as he stood unmoving beside the fireplace. Duncan dropped his head, then pulled it up. In his brown eyes was a pained worry. “I can’t stay,” he said softly.

  Understanding flashed over me, and I put a hand to my shoulder. “You didn’t escape. They sent you,” I whispered. “You’re here to tell us where to take the money.”

  He nodded, his long face unhappy. “They knew I’d be recognized and thought I’d be less likely to be killed on sight. Not that they care,” he muttered, scuffing his feet on the tile floor. “I think they’d just as soon see me dead, but it would give them an excuse to hurt Contessa or Alex if you did.”

  “We’re not going to hurt you!” I exclaimed, taking both his hands again. “Duncan, you have to go?”

  His bangs fell to hide his eyes. “I’m sorry. This isn’t what I wanted to have happen.”

  Kavenlow pushed forward, his boots tapping as he came even with me. “You have an hour at least. Come and sit. How are Queen Contessa and Prince Alex? Are they well?”

  “They’re fine.”

  Fine? What was fine? Couldn’t he be a little more descriptive than that?

  Impatient, I let go of Duncan’s fingers when he gave mine a squeeze, and he followed Kavenlow to the small arrangement of chairs and cushions before the fireplace next to the left of the official dais. My parents had usually kept court in the more informal seating arrangement, a tradition the modest Contessa had taken a liking to as well.

  Duncan took my arm and pulled me into Kavenlow and Jeck’s wake. I sat on the long couch before the fire, shunning my usual spot set back and out of the way. Jeck dropped his black hat with the drooping feathers to the oval table before kneeling to build the flames higher. A member of the palace staff hastened forward, and Kavenlow waved him away so we could continue to talk without interruption or the spreading of rumors. Settling himself between the fire and the low table where he could see both Jeck and me, Kavenlow put his hands behind his back, waiting until the large hall was clear before nodding to Duncan.

  “They’re both fine, last I saw them,” he said softly, well aware how voices carried and how servants loved to skulk about corners, as he was usually among them. “Though the crew was ready to keelhaul Contessa if she stayed on board any longer.”

  Still crouched beside the fire in his boots and black Misdev uniform, Jeck looked over his shoulder to Duncan as the cheat sat gingerly on the embroidered
couch beside me. “They have divided the crew?” Jeck asked, his low voice seeming to rumble through me. There was more than a hint of threat in it, and I stifled a shudder.

  Duncan leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees. “There’s just what’s needed to sail the ship left on Kelly’s Sapphire. The rest are somewhere south of here between the capital and Saltwood with Contessa and Alex.”

  Jeck’s motions to set a piece of wood on the fire hesitated. Dropping it to send up a flurry of sparks, he stood and turned, looking dangerous and dark in his leather jerkin. “Where?”

  His eyes pinched and worried, Duncan ran his hand down his clean chin. “I don’t know for certain,” he said, his second finger rubbing his thumb in worry. “They don’t trust me that far.” He turned to me, seeing my hope burn to ash in my eyes. “I’m sorry, Tess. I haven’t seen them since most of the crew left with them yesterday. They could be anywhere by now.”

  “Anywhere within a day’s ride,” Jeck said intently. “We can find them.”

  Duncan was suddenly pale. “Don’t,” he advised. “They’ll kill them. I know it. I’ve been listening, and they have no reason not to. Some have even started currying the favor of Captain Rylan to be the ones to do it. Contessa . . . Contessa is being very difficult. She thinks you’re dead, Tess.”

  I tried to swallow, failing. I stared at Kavenlow in fear, and he put a calming hand upon my good shoulder. “Duncan, can you give us any idea where they dropped them and the crew?”

  “If I had a map, maybe.”

  Spinning, Kavenlow strode to the racks of charts tightly scrolled and shelved neatly. He chose one from memory, his gaze hazy in thought as he slapped the roll of parchment down onto the low table before the fire. My heart pounded, and I scooted forward when Jeck shoved his hat off the table and set the weighted boxes of sand at the corners to hold the map open.

  “Where?” Kavenlow said tersely, his gaze riveted downward.

  Duncan’s brow creased as he looked at the detailed map. It showed a small section of the coast a day’s sail in either direction. He pressed his lips together as he oriented himself. “Here,” he said, pointing to a small cove where a river ran from inland to the sea. “Or maybe here,” he added, pointing to a smaller rivulet closer to Saltwood. “I can’t say for sure. But it was at a river.”