With Petrina out of reach, Finn’s attention had only one place to go: Selene.
“Come and get me,” Selene said, and resumed climbing the shrouds.
The next stop was the bird’s nest. The nearer to the top, the more furious the pre-storm winds. The platform swayed amidst the chaos of ropes and rigging that hung loose.
Selene climbed inside and steadied herself with one of the loose ropes, trying to catch her breath. She should keep climbing—she was so close—but Petrina was several feet behind Finn, and she wouldn’t win this stupid race alone.
Brandishing her arrow like a dagger, Selene faced Finn as he hoisted himself over the edge and into the space.
“You were lucky before,” he said, spitting to the side. He pulled a knife from his belt. “Ya’will’nabe again.”
Finn lunged, his blade a precise slash toward her side.
Selene side-stepped the knife’s sharp point and struck out with her arrow. The tip dug into his forearm, and he staggered back with a wince.
Finn’s cheeks flamed red. “Bitch.”
With a growl, he came at Selene with vicious, arcing swings. Wild and desperate.
For the first time, panic twisted through Selene. She had to dodge his knife without tripping over or into a tangle of rope.
She parried with her arrow and kept her back to the hip-high railing as Finn turned more and more furious. One wrong move, and she’d plummet to her death. She had to hold on just a little longer.
Petrina slinked through the opening, her expression determined and assessing.
Finn spotted the movement and did a double-take over his shoulder. He grinned. “Well, c’mon then. Do your best.”
Selene jabbed forward with her arrow, pulling his attention back. “Don’t forget about me.”
He grinned. Just as fast, his expression promised violence, and he raised his knife.
Petrina appeared and grabbed his wrist, twisting sharply.
Finn’s blade fell with athunk, and he wailed in pain, his hand dangling at an odd angle.
Selene grimaced.
Petrina swept a leg at Finn’s ankles. He crashed to the floor and rolled to his side with another cry of pain.
Petrina retrieved the blade and threw it over the side and into the sea. “Come on.” She grabbed the final set of shrouds. “Let’s end this.”
Selene threw her arrow after the knife—it wouldn’t do them any good to return armed—and followed Petrina’s climb to the crosstree at the very top of the mainmast.
Petrina gave a wide arcing wave to the men below, and an eruption of cheers reached them.
“Now,” Selene said, gasping for breath, “they’ll stop watching us so hard.”
Petrina groaned. “Next time, I plan, you listen and nod.”
Selene stared beyond the horizon where the storm clouds continued to build. “Let’s hope there is a next time.”
Chapter
Eighteen
Dimitrios stayed in the Nicolea home for three days, learning much about its inner workings. He watched the family care for their farmlands and the children play. Every morning, he woke expecting that his grandfather had ordered his removal, but he never did.
Antonis did, however, make sure no one bothered with him. Other than his Aunt Rena, the rest of the Nicoleas refused to entertain him. The children ran. The cousins, aunts, uncles…they sped past any time they crossed paths. He ate dinner with his people at an empty table and went to bed alone in a fire-warmed room.
