Elio steps beside me. “He has barbs in his skin.”
I shrug them all off. It’s nothing. I just need to find my land legs. “I said I’m fine, let’s head back.”
“Rune—”
“Where’s my shirt?”
The crew that have gathered around me part down the middle as Odi takes a step forwards. The usual scowl on her face is softer. I can’t stop the smile tugging at the corner of my mouth as I look down at her. She really is beautiful. Her fingers brush mine as I reach for my shirt. The thrill of it mixes with the blood coursing through my heaving chest, muffling the world around us, narrowing my focus on her lips so hard my vision darkens at the edges.
“I think you should sit down.” Her voice is a gentle command more than it is a suggestion.
Shaking my head, I pull my shirt up and over. The ringing in my ears grows sharper, louder, and the figures before me blur, blending together in a heap of colours and textures. The world tilts once, then twice. After that, it doesn’t bother righting itself. My knees go weak, and suddenly the ground seems closer than it was before.
“It's poison.” Otto’s voice is distorted. “He’s going down!”
My hand shoots out, as I try to find my balance. “Fuck.”
THE SIREN PRINCE
13
ODELIA
The amount of bodies inside the captain’s quarters is near suffocating, but none of us volunteer to be the one who leaves.
Otto runs his long fingers over the red stains on Rune’s trousers. Their captain lays, pallid and sweat soaked, in the centre of his bed. The barbs protrude a hands-width long, their tubular stems leeched of colour like whatever they intended to do is long done. The spiral of sucker marks on his forearm is swollen and weeping blood from tiny ringed circles.
Otto speaks quickly, his eyes glued to the wounds. “That one’s a thrall squid. The saliva will keep him bleeding for a while. I have to go get my poultices from the galley. Can you guys get the barbs out? Don’t pinch the tops, try to grab it as close to the base as you can.”
Tavi just watches Rune’s uneven breathing.
Elio is the one that answers. “We’ve got it, Otto. Do what you need to.”
The boy shuffles out, leaving the three of us to decide who gets the honour of removing the barbs. I stay stockstill, my fists clenched under the arms crossed over my chest, certain they won’t let me touch him.
He’d gotten the key.
Or a piece of it. The box clutched under his arm had fallen when the poison took hold, though it had been promptly removed from my care the moment we’d made it back to the ship. I hadn’t argued. Now, fresh anxiety swims through my veins, and I can’t tell if it’s for the piece that’s just out of reach or the man half-dead on the bed.
Elio steps forwards with a small dagger and begins to cut Rune’s pants away, being careful to avoid knocking the barbs. Rune’s legs are thick and as muscular as the rest of him, but blood beads over his skin, leaking from each protrusion. I flick my attention between Elio and the barbs as he reaches a hand out like he means to reach for one, but Tavi cuts him off. For once, her every thought flashes across her face—and her hands are trembling, dancing a breath away from the hooks embedded in his skin.
“I can show you how, if you want.” I don’t even recognize the voice as mine. It’s soft. Gentle in a way it has no right to be.
Her eyes slice across the room, her gaze landing on mine. The ship creaks as it shifts. Even the crickets had gone silent. By the time we’d limped back, it was dark, and for a breath I wonder what waits on the island in the quiet of night.
When she says nothing, I speak again. “I’ve dealt with my fair share of barbed bolts.”
“So have I.” Her eyes are tired.
Depending on the shape, barbs could do even more damage coming out than they did going in. The worst kindneed to be cut out, but these are a stiff, plant-like material, a route for poison rather than the killing blow.
I step towards Rune, putting my weight on my uninjured ankle. I don’t let myself look at his bloodless face before pressing a hand against his leg with my thumb and fingers on either side of the embedded stem. When neither of them object, I push in, spreading the flesh, then snap my other hand to the stem’s base and yank as fast as I can.
Rune whimpers as either Tavi or Elio hiss in sympathy. There are two more lower down on his legs, but the one I’m most worried about is near his hip, leaking more blood than the others.
They say nothing as I work, and I pretend not to notice when Elio brushes the back of his hand against hers. Rune reacts less the next time, and dread pools in my gut, followed quickly by irritation. We should have waited. If we’d have made a plan, we could have found a way to go down together, my fear of the water be damned. But his over-confident ass thought he’d be noble and shoulder all the danger. He probably planned to do it the moment we found the cenote.
The last one on his leg catches, the drag of ripping flesh sending a cringe down my arm, through my aching ribs, and along every strained nerve in my body. Fresh blood coats my fingers and he groans as I apply more pressure, trying to fix the problem I caused. Otto returns. The boy’s arms are stacked full of bottles and wraps that clink terribly when he dumps them on the bed. Several land on Rune, and I make the mistake oflooking at his face.
