Chapter 52
The Nightmare Prince
Every mark was set.
Warm air, heavy with brine, beat against the sails. The seas rocked our longships, as though the waters knew there was trouble stirring.
“Fins tell me it arrived not long ago. Deepest the darklands have gone.” Nightseer peered through the thick billow of shadows wrapped around our fleet.
Raum, draped in throwing knives and dark kohl, stood beside him looking ahead. All I could see were clouds and darkness. Occasionally, Nightseer would hum, pulling out more of his sea voice to wade through the pitch. Raum would squint more when his mesmer blurred his impossible vision.
Natthaven.
They had it in their sights.
“The merfolk saw it appear?” Sander stepped beside the brusque sea fae.
Nightseer gave a nod. “Says they’ve been watchin’ for it since a call was sent from our Lady of Blades after she received a distress.”
Heartwalker and his bleeding coherent reason. I’d kiss the fae when I saw him again. Celine Tidecaller was the Lady of Blades in the Everand could send swift reports through the tides with her sea voice. Her lands were nearest to the border between earth fae and sea fae realms.
Tait made the right call. If Celine spread the word, doubtless the entire Ever Kingdom would already know what happened tonight.
“Think they’re going to pull the land out deeper into those unknown seas?” Raum glanced at Nightseer.
The sea fae popped a shoulder. “Could do. Merfolk’ll keep watch, but too far and they get disoriented.”
“Then we better see to it they have no chance to fade again.” My tone was harsh, and I didn’t care to soften it. Mesmer held me in its clutches, and I could not shake the heat of it rolling beneath my skin.
Fear was jagged in my blood, and if I gave in, I would fall into a nightmare I wasn’t certain I’d escape.
More than once, Von had slipped a few herbs into my palm from the Elixists to stave off fevers, and my father had not left my side, likely tasting every bit of the dangerous fear wanting to pull me under.
Skadi could not afford me wallowing in nightmares. I was the only one in this crew who knew the isle of Natthaven.
While others kept watch on the shores, I hastily made sketches to mark our scheme.
I scratched labels of peaks or swamplands as I recalled them, after the word I would add a symbol or sketch for my father who memorized areas and images simpler than tracking the words that leapt around pages.
It wasn’t a weakness; no one learned maps or plans with such frightening accuracy as Kase Eriksson, and once I reported on the scale of Natthaven and the secrets it gave up during the week I was there, my father was the one to shape the scheme.
Not as intricate as other ploys, perhaps, but this was not meant for finesse or elegance.
Our next steps were designed for destruction until we found Skadi.
I sealed a missive in a powdered elixir meant to keep it dry, then leaned over the edge of the longship.
Round, bulging eyes met mine when the mermaid lifted her face half out of the water. Hair like pure jade glistened with molluskbarrettes and pins. Her skin was not scaled, but against a gleam of light it almost seemed to be.
“To the king.” I turned over the parchment. “This is important.”
She flashed her thin, pointed teeth. “My own hand will see it to him, earth prince. Unless you wish to swim alongside me.”
“I’d never see the sun again.”
“I could vow it.”
Merfolk. Always trying to entice us beneath the waves. “Hurry.”
