There are people on the next level. I feel their eyes on me as I follow Callan down the wide wooden steps and onto the open space. There’s no cargo here, but an open space clearly used for gathering. Several stools are laid out, an abandoned pack of cards tossed haphazardly on an upturned barrel. The crew gets to their feet when Callan comes into view.
The boy who found me earlier peeks out from behind an older man, all floppy hair and wide eyes that seem to take up most of his face. He pokes the man in the side. “Itoldyou.”
At his hiss, the older man shushes him before frowning, his eyes scanning me.
Three others stand close by, equally inspecting. The shortest is a petite female with springy, reddish-brown spiral curls that brush against her shoulders, a strong, almost hawkish face and a crease between her brows. She’s flanked by two much larger males. One stands at her right, angled toward her with his hand hovering above the short sword strapped to his left side.
The other is solely focused on me. I take in his size, the sheer bulk of him overpowering even the tall male beside him. Hecrosses his arms. Meeting his gaze, I openly examine his eyes. Both of them are a vibrant shade of ruby.
Peristi—no.Vis. It takes me a moment to separate the classes, to pull the memories out of the box I keep locked away.
Scarlet, for the elementals. Those with the ability to manipulate the four elements of Caelum’s world.
The other male bears that same tell-tale red gaze, but the female watches me with eyes that glow brilliant amethyst, like the jewels I was once gifted by a customer before Boralas took them away.
Caelumnai, all of them. They wear their maegis as openly as Callan’s is subtle, each of their eyes bearing the vivid pupils of their class. But my eyes are drawn to the marks on their faces. The female wears a small eight in the cushion of her left cheek, red ink against warm, orange-brown skin. The male beside her is the same shade as the white sand that lines the shores of Terrosa, the six in his skin a stark contrast to his pale cheeks. He runs a hand through messy brown curls, his smile tentative.
I don’t remember the Caelumnai having those marks at all. My eyes slide to Callan, taking in the clear expanse of gold across his own face, disrupted by a hint of darker stubble. He doesn’t wear one.
“Not a wraith, then.” The bigger, shaven-headed male eyes me again before turning to Callan. The eight on his cool umber cheek is lit by the lantern beside him. “How did she get here?”
“So it would seem.” Callan has been monitoring our silent assessment of each other closely. His eyes seem more unusual, the bronze seeming to shift in the light of the lanterns strung up along the deck before he turns. “And that is an excellent question.”
Something in his tone causes an expression – hurt, maybe – to flash across the smiling male’s face, his friendly demeanourdimming. He shifts closer to the female, crossing his arms. “You thinkwe—”
“Riordan.” The older one steps forward, cutting off the words. He bears no signs of the maegis, his eyes an ordinary, if deep, blue, set against weathered, reddened skin that shows the burn of the Terrosan sun. The others pause, shifting slightly in their position as if making space.
I look between them again. Those marks on their faces—it must correlate to their maegis.
When my muscles lock, the older inritus stops. Assesses me carefully. He’s shorter than the rest of the men here, stocky and broad-shouldered with hair far greyer than the few remaining threads of dark I can see.
“Well, now.” His voice is quiet. “Let’s not scare the girl. What’s your name, lass?”
“This is Selene.” Callan’s drawl answers for me. I turn my body to keep him in sight as he moves to my side. “Selene, this is Merrick. I believe you’ve already met Leo.”
The boy hesitantly raises his hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t.” My voice comes out cool and monotone.
“Solomon.” Callan points to the taller male, still eyeing me with a suspicion that has my muscles tensing. “And that’s Esmeray, and Riordan.”
“Esme,” the female snaps. Behind her, the male—Riordan—almost smiles again. “Damn it, Callan.”
“Es-may.” An eyeroll—from both of them—follows the exaggerated words. “My apologies.”
Riordan whistles lightly, eyeing me with clear curiosity. “A faeyte. I really didn’t think there were any left.”
Because you killed them all?
The words hover on my tongue, waiting to erupt into the air. But I bite them back. I’m on their ship with my ownmaegis bound in copper. Making enemies will do me no good.
Not that it matters. I’m heading in the right direction, regardless of their views.
My eyes flicker to Leo, and then away. I meet Solomon’s eyes instead, taking in the glare there. I can’t help but offer him one of my own. “Do I offend you in some way?”
My hand scratches at my wrist again. The air is cooler up here, helped along by a strong breeze that whips at my bedraggled hair. The salt tastes even stronger now, forcing its way into my mouth and up my nose as I fight to keep my breathing steady. My words come out harsher than I intended.
At my icy words, the group falls silent. His lip curls. “I said nothing.”
