I fidget and cast about for something—anything—to do, but I have no functional sailing experience and Callan still lies at my feet, pretending to be on his deathbed. The sight disturbs me more than I care to voice, so I turn back in their direction, giving up on any pretense of privacy since I can hear every word anyway.
Sol says nothing, only grips him tightly, his hand wrapped around the back of Matthias’s neck. My eyes creep back up, curiosity getting the better of me in time to watch Matthias’s eyes close as he buries his face into Solomon’s throat. Despite his height, he fits perfectly against Sol. “You scared me. All of you. Whereisour resident troublemaker? Still alive, I assume, since you made it.”
Sol murmurs something I don’t catch. Matthias laughs, bright and surprisingly loud, but his eyes are searching even as he grins at the others, offering a wink for Leo. “I am not. Although we’ll have to avoid the hearth for a few days. I didn’t mean to break the pots, but I tripped over a stool. Quentin was furious—,”
His eyes sweep past me, only for him to slowly pull them back. They widen, his mouth dropping open. “Well, now. IknewI should have swapped with Rio.”
Sol pokes him in the back, his mouth moving too quickly for me to hear. Matthias’s lips tilt up into a grin as he stares, his head tipping to listen before he nods.
He almost runs up the steps. I take a step back, but he collides with me, as if his feet move too fast for him to keep up. Arms squeeze me tightly with surprising strength.
“Hello, Selene Amaris.” His voice rings with sincerity. I find myself relaxing into the embrace. “My name is Matthias. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He steps back, offering me another bright grin before he wheels around. My head is spinning as he darts over to Callan. Sol follows more sedately, a bag in his hands that he drops to the floor as Matthias drops to one knee.
We all watch as his hands fly over Callan’s blood-stained clothing, yanking up his sleeves. “Look at the state of you. How much maegis have you been using, you eejit?”
When Callan’s eyes fly open, Matthias loses his balance and topples backward onto his ass. A yelp echoes from his throat. “Holy gods.”
Sol leans in to explain in quick, muttered breaths. The others join us as Matthias’s eyes grow wider and wider. Sol pushes a finger beneath his chin to close his mouth. “Saynothing.”
“Gods,” Matthias breathes again. His head swings between Callan and I, his expression shifting. “I’m going to need to know how that works. We will be great friends, you and I, Selene.”
“Notnow,” Sol hisses. “We need an explanation. He should be half-dead, and he very obviously is not. They’re going to come looking any moment.”
Matthias sits back on his heels. I can almost see the gears working behind those eyes as they flicker over Callan. His thoughts feel almost as loud as his words.
His lips purse. “He’s wearing more blood on his clothes and body than you’d find inside him, by the looks. We’ll dampen it, make it look fresher.”
Merrick turns. “I’ll get water.”
Callan yawns, his body hidden from the men on the dock. “Take your time, by all means. They’ll be up here any second.”
Matthias flicks him in the forehead. “Andyouhave some explaining to do too.”
A smirk spreads across Callan’s face. “You were missed.”
“Pfft.” Matthias runs a considering hand over his jaw. “We’ll act as if we’ve blooded you already, up here.”
He yanks out a roll of bandages from his bag. “I’ll wrap your arms. It would be helpful if you could try to at least look alittleashen.”
Tugging his bag closer, Matthias rummages through it before he yanks out a small pouch.
Callan groans. “No. Not the lancer root. Take pity on me. The macra tea was bad enough.”
“Yes.” Matthias digs in the pouch, pinching a small, dark-colored shape between his fingers. “Open up. This’ll get rid of whatever glow has you lit up like a beacon, at least long enough to get through the next hour without questions. You need to look as if you have one foot in Ellas.”
His fingers weave exaggeratedly from side to side, clutching the root as he angles it toward Callan’s lips. “Oh, look.Volatus, coming in. Open up.”
After shoving the leaf into Callan’s open mouth, he brushes off his hands and taps Callan’s cheek. “There. It’ll kick in in a few moments.”
A grimace spreads across Callan’s face as he chews. “I’m not a child.”
“And yet you persist in acting like one when it comes to being treated,” Matthias says, almost primly. Merrick passes me to kneel beside Callan, who grimaces again as the water hits him.
Matthias briskly pushes up the sleeves of his shirt further, wrapping linen around his lower arms, below his elbow. “See? It’s already kicking in. We should be good to go now.”
Callan’s face has drained, taking on a faintly greenish hue.
