“Theship’sbird?”
“Well, yeah, land bird of some kind, grey, kinda plump. Probably why he’s staying on the ship far as I can tell. Looked like he might have made friends on the island but decided he liked my cooking better than hunting his own.” Otto beams. “But”—he scratches the back of his head—“when I offered the mudalik he pecked and screeched like a ship running aground. Wasn’t too happy with me.”
“If it’s the same one from the the other day, it’s not harmless. But I didn’t get a good look at it,” I say, feeling the phantom gash in my thumb. “Did it try to hurt you?”
Otto shakes his head. “Course not. He’s a good bird. Just letting me know he knew it was poison is all.”
A low, unbalanced feeling makes me consider the answer before I concede, too tired to do anything but shovel another forkful in my mouth. The kid can cook. “And that will be good for your elixirs?"
He nods. “Yeah but I’ll probably start with some shot. I used a lot for the centipede. Is Rune gonna come eat with you guys?”
Soraya shrugs. “No, he hasn’t had his daily allotment of broody prince time.”
Tavi lifts a brow. “We lost people down there, Soraya.”
Soraya waves a hand. “He was this way before too. It’s just worse with the map.”
I pause for a breath, my plate mostly clean already.“Strange that a prince would have a need for gold.”
They all go quiet. Quiet enough to know there’s something I don’t know. A bittersweet smile grows on my face as Otto clumsily excuses himself, and the other two pin their focus on their food. Yeah. There’s something they aren’t saying. But Rune will be stuck with me all night, and there’s no way I’ll give him another riddle until he explains exactly what his aim is in all of this.
My blood warms, and the anticipation turns quickly to something else. I still feel the strength of his hands like a brand on my skin.
“So,” I say pointedly, since Tavi’s been so eager tochat, “how’s Elio?”
“Better,” she says without looking at me.
I don’t back down. “I’ve always thought men look better with scars, and he’s already a looker.”
“And here I thought I’d be helping Rune write his wedding vows soon.” She finally looks at me, completely unentertained. It makes me smile wider.
“I do prefer a man with a little more hair. Up top.”
Soraya snorts into her eggs.
Relenting, I lower my voice. “Why do you guys hide it? Rune approves wholeheartedly, trust me—down in the tunnel he waxed poetic about dying before you came out and admitted your feelings.”
“He did not.”
I shrug. “He didn’t. But if he had, he wouldn't have been wrong. I don’t need toscentanything to know.”
Tavisends an accusing look towards Soraya, who puts both her hands up before saying, “I just thought some frank honesty would be nice on this ship for once. And the girl has a right to know you can tell they’ve been . . . close.”
“I can’ttell—” Tavi cuts off with a sigh and sends her eyes up like she’s beseeching the deck above us for patience. “It’s vague. Especially—”
“With the stink?” I throw my chin at the line of sailors behind her.
She nods, but her lips curl up on one side. “My bloodline mixed with humans a long time ago, so the sense isn’t as sharp as it might be for others.”
“Is that also why you’re afraid of the dark?” I ask innocently.
“Why I—who told you that?” Her forehead pinches, just slightly.
I shrug. The line behind her moves forwards, most of the others either quiet or somber.
She breaths so deep it’s almost a sigh. “Some elves are born with darkvision, some aren’t. Like I said, we mixed with humans a few hundred years ago.”
It’s not an admission, but it’s close.
