It didn’t take long for James to return to the boat and for Meridan to be rowed to shore. She had her dagger on her hip, same as me, and her hair was pulled into a tight bun and tied with leather string. She looked fairly confident considering the circumstances.
“Did James tell you?” I asked her.
She nodded and then shrugged one shoulder. “I suspected as much as we sailed up.” She stepped closer to me, whispering as her eyes flicked toward Vidar. “How does he feel about this?”
“Exactly as you’d expect,” I said.
“Here,” James offered, handing me one of his thick rings. “Addison gave it to me the day I left on the Burning Rose. Might convince her you’re telling the truth. You know… if she’s still there.”
I slid the ring onto my thumb for safekeeping. “If she’s there, I won’t give her a choice on whether or not she comes with us.”
The corner of his mouth quirked. “Can’t really tell if that’s reassuring or not, but I trust you, I suppose.”
I turned to see Vidar unbuckling his cutlass from his belt. Instead of handing it to me, he stuck it into my belt instead and secured the leather straps, forcing me to take it. It smelled strongly of hemsbane. He bathed the thing in hemsbane oil now and again, keeping it saturated in the herb. The smell itself wasn’t deadly to sirens, but it certainly wasn’t pleasant either.
“I will wait here,” he said, tightening my belts like I hadn’t just adjusted them accordingly. “And before dark, if you have not returned, I will come looking for you.”
“No, you must go back to—”
He jerked on my belts, pulling me closer to him. “I will come looking for you.” Taking my jaw in his hand, he whispered, “If you do not like that thought, then find Addison and get back here before nightfall. Understand?”
The way he demanded I come back made every muscle yearn to appease him. I felt like I had no other choice. I didn’t, if I thought about it. Vidar could not come looking for me, so Ihadto abide by his wishes. Find Addison. Return to the beach. Get back to the ship. It was the ideal plan.
If Lune was feeling merciful, no one would die in the process.
“I will return before nightfall,” I nodded. “Captain.”
Leaving Vidar and the others at the beach felt oddly relieving and worrying at the same time. I was concerned something or someone would find them and I was thankful they weren’t following us into what was likely a hellscape.
Meridan and I hiked along the water’s edge, unsure whether to look inland or toward the sea. When we reached the docks, the scent of rotting wood and death permeated the salty air. Coiled ropes were tangled on the soggy, wood planks and old blood had stained the grains.
“No bodies,” Meridan pointed out.
“Not yet.”
Off the docks was the road leading toward the town. My leather boots barely made a sound on the packed soil and Meridan’s bare feet didn’t make any sound at all. We were subtle, but someone or something was likely to notice us eventually.
We were getting closer to the buildings, but the sinking feeling that we were walking into a trap had not ebbed. The sun fought to pierce the clouds, but Dornwich wasn’t like the sunny shores of Gilly Pine. It was a drab place. After we passed a few buildings on the outskirts, I noticed that Meridan had her hand resting on her knife. I hadn’t even realized that mine was also resting on my belt, my fingers coiled around Lady Mary’s hilt.
Bronze weapons had cut down hundreds of my kind and there I was clutching one, ready to unsheathe it at the first sign of danger.
The road was straightforward. It only had one direction and turned into brick once we were fully in the town. Still, we saw no one. Wagons were parked with no horses. Shops looked abandoned, their shutters closed. Ahead, I could see the church steeple and continued on, intent on reaching it.
A rhythmic clopping sound drew my eyes. I stopped, my arm jutting out to halt Meriden as the noise drew nearer. We waited, sidestepping toward a building just as a large, cream-colored horsetrotted out of an alley, shaking its tangled mane to one side of its thick neck. It had the ropes of a makeshift halter on its long face, the short lead dragging on the ground. When it reached the edge of the street, its front hoof caught the muddy rope, yanking the animal’s head down and startling it.
I stepped toward it, holding a hand out to calm the beast as I reached for the lead. It threw its head up, nostrils flared. As it did, I caught the rope and lightly tugged.
“Dahlia,” Meridan warned.
Slowly, the horse stopped tramping its hooves on the bricks, snorting loudly as I slowly pulled it closer. When its velvety nose touched my fingers, a sense of victory and relief washed over me.
“You lost?” I muttered at the beast.
“Aren’t you afraid of it?” Meridan asked.
I stroked my hand down the length of the horse’s head. “No more afraid than he is.”
I looked at Meridan and found my eyes drawn past her to a young girl standing in the alley from which the horse had come. She was dressed in rags, her face streaked with blood. Knotted brown hair was tied over her shoulder, tangled in the length of the ribbon she’d used to gather it into a braid.
