3
Josie had always been drawn to nature. She observed it with an artist’s eye. Where one saw a field of green, her mind easily provided a canvas of nuanced shades: basil and emerald and pine and juniper. But as she stood on the starboard side of the ship, the Anath Sea stretching as far as she could see, there were no discernible shades. It all blended together beneath her gaze, a jumble of sea and sky, a mess of blue she couldn’t be bothered to sort through. Not when she had so many other thoughts ricocheting through her mind.
Over three weeks they’d been at sea, and there had been no sign of Kakos pursuing an attack. They’d stopped at Milsaio’s third island to gather supplies and tend to their wounded, and to ensure it remained uninvaded by Kakos.
All had been calm.
Kakos remained in the capital on the second island, and they had not made a move since Milsaio’s strategic retreat.
Josie was not well-versed in war, not like Aidon, who breathed strategy and maps and formations. But even she knew they were fighting something different. Something strange and sporadic and deadly. They had no idea the numbers behind their forces or the reasons behind the attacksand retreats and stays. Fighting a war with Kakos was like battling a demon in the dark.
And now, they were doing it without the one person Josie trusted to lead them through it.
“You did not come to dinner.”
That space between Josie’s shoulder blades tensed at Aleissande’s voice. She’d managed to mostly avoid the general, save for mandated training on the main deck. Even the hours of wielding her sword were not enough to dispel the thrumming beneath her skin that had been there ever since Dunmeaden.
Ever since she’d learned Aya was missing, and Aidon—
“You need to eat.” Aleissande took up a spot at her side, her toned arms resting on the worn wood of the ship’s edge.
“I’m not hungry,” Josie muttered. She kept her gaze fixed on the smooth waters of the Anath, even as she felt Aleissande’s stare boring into her.
“I did not ask if you were.”
Josie bristled, her teeth biting the inside of her cheek as she held back a bitter retort. That thrumming had manifested itself in irritability on more than one occasion over the last few weeks. She already owed Cole an apology for snapping at him earlier. She wasn’t looking to add to her list—not that Aleissande was deserving of a single ounce of her remorse.
Not when she’d sent Aidon away.
“You’re angry,” Aleissande observed in that stoic way of hers. It had Josie’s fingers curling against the lip of the ship, the blisters on her hand chaffing against the wood as she squeezed.
“I’m worried,” she bit out. She tore her attention from the ocean, finally allowing herself to meet the general’s stare. There was a new scar marring Aleissande’s neck, a slash of pink across golden skin. It cut across her collarbone before it disappeared beneath the edge of her fighting leathers.
Josie had her own scars from battle: a jagged cut thatlooked like a raised lightning bolt against the umber-brown skin of her forearm, the screams that followed her into sleep and haunted her nightmares.
The war had barely started, and yet it was already taking its toll on all of them.
Aleissande’s showed more than most.
Hollowed cheeks. Jutting jawbone. Her full lips thinned in an ever-present terseness.
Aleissande’s gaze swept over her. “When is the last time you slept?”
As if she could do such a thing. It wasn’t just the nightmares that pulled her from sleep; it was the endless questions that circled in her mind while she was awake.
What had happened in that throne room? Where was Aya? Was Aidon dead?
If he were dead, Kakos would have claimed it.It had become a mantra of sorts, a prayer for a woman who needed solace but had never found it in the Divine. If Aidon had not escaped Dunmeaden, surely, they would have heard before they left port. They had, after all, learned of Aya’s disappearance. Gianna’s death in the throne room. Tova’s as well.
And yet a second, more insidious voice loved to remind her that she’d been ship-bound save for Milsaio, and news there was sparse. It was plenty of time for someone to discover his body and her not to have heard.
“Am I not in the hammocks every night with the rest of the force?”
“Do not be a child,” Aleissande snapped. “You need rest.”
Josie did not want to rest. She wanted to returnhome, where she could wait for news of her brother and ensure his throne was ready for his return.
Because he had to return. His people needed him.
