“Twenty-eight. How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
He whistles through his teeth, then leans out to look over the side at the water. “I knew you were young, but not that young. Let’s go out a little farther and I’ll see if we can drag the nets a bit.”
“Well, Corrick was only nineteen.” My voice threatens to break, so I lean into the oars and pull harder. Erik was right. Ididneed to move.
“I know.” He shakes his head and frowns. “Some days I’d forget, but hewasyoung. So is the king, honestly. Their family legacy seems destined to be nothing but tragedy.”
The good humor has slipped out of his voice, too, but his tone burns with an ember of fury.
“You’re angry,” I say in surprise.
He nods, then tosses the nets over the side with enough force that it seems to emphasize his anger—and then he winces and presses a hand to his side, breathing through his teeth. “When we return to Kandala,” he says, “I will have to report to His Majesty that our suspicions were correct, that Captain Blakemore was not to be trusted, and that I failed to keep Prince Corrick safe. It shouldn’t have happened that way, Miss Tessa. He didn’t deserve to lose his brother, too.”
I imagine Harristan learning of Corrick’s death, and tears threaten to swell again. Erik looks at me sharply. “This is why I’m no good with tears,” he says. “I’d rather get angry.”
I remember how he was on the deck of the ship, chasing Rian away from me after Corrick and Lochlan had slipped beneath the waves, gone. I was sitting on the planks crying, but Erik was ready to throw Rian overboard if he came near me.
That was the night I asked him to teach me to fight.
I can’t teach you how to fight if you can barely pick yourself up off the beach.
I dig deep for that same anger, biting my tongue until I taste blood, leaning into the oars, breathing hard.
“Good girl,” says Erik.
“You saidwhen,” I say between strokes. “You think we’ll be able to get back?”
“I don’t know.” He hesitates, studying me for a moment before leaning over again to check the nets. “But I do think you’ll need to be the one to figure out a way to talk to Rian.”
I almost drop the oars. “What?” I demand. “Why?”
“Because I don’t think he lied about everything. Ostriary truly does need steel. He wasn’t trying to kidnap Prince Corrick. I believe he was trying to do the right thing for his people, just like you were trying to do the right thing for Kandala. So I think his regret is genuine. That’s why he’s trying so hard to make amends withyou.” He tugs at the netting. “Eventually, that regret is going to wear thin—if it hasn’t already. He’ll have to admit that he failed, or those pirates will come after him again, or his people are going to figure out that he couldn’t keep his promises—something. Once any of that happens, you will have absolutely no leverage over him.”
I keep pulling at the oars, considering this.
I hate Rian. Ihatehim. I don’t want to talk to him.
But if he’s the king of Ostriary, he might be our best—ouronly—way out of here.
I look at Erik and remember what the king used to say when he needed his guards to help formulate a plan. “Advise.” I hesitate. “Please.”
“Well, Rian came to Kandala to negotiate with the king. He couldn’t have been sure who he was going to bring back—if anyone at all.” He shrugs a little. “He still needs steel. If I know anything of royalty, right now he’s scrambling, stalling,hiding.”
“Lying.”
“Absolutely. Maybe you could lie a little yourself. Convince himthat you knew secrets from Prince Corrick that could be advantageous to Ostriary. Bargain for passage back to Kandala.”
That makes me falter. “He wouldn’t believe it. I’m not a good liar.”
Erik considers that, pulling at the nets, dragging them back over the side while he thinks. “Look! We’ll have more than enough. I’ll have to throw half of this back.” He dumps two dozen fish in the hull of our little boat, and they all start flopping everywhere. He immediately starts tossing some back over the side, but his breathing has gone a bit ragged.
I let go of the oars and help. “You should rest.”
“I’m fine. Let’s keep six. Give me the oars. I’ll turn us around.” As he does, I look off to the island. We’re a good distance from shore, and the beach has been mostly deserted, but for the first time, I spot another dock. A woman stands near the end, watching us. A small child is by her side.
I raise my hand to wave, but she doesn’t wave back. We’re too far to make out her expression.
