Her face softens.Rest Niko. I’ll stay awake.She pats the knife she keeps strapped to her thigh.And then we’ll begin plotting.
Chapter thirteen
The Indomnitus is eerily quiet. The proud masts cast spears of dark shadow against the rising sun, the familiar bow rocking lazily in the calm waters. I focus on the gentle motion and try to remember what it felt like beneath my feet—the comfort of the soft lilt, the possibility of the endless movement.
I use the memory to ground myself in something aside from the wave after wave of fear inundating me. My magic sweeps over the dozens of children that lie asleep around me, soothing their terror. Some of it is electric green and zaps against my skin like a frayed wire, while others are deep blacks that feel like brackish water in my lungs each time I try to breathe.
All of it at once has left me gasping for air, mired beneath the onslaught.
Beside me, Tiernan shifts on his feet, eyeing me in concern. “It’s been too long, Sam,” he says for the hundredth time since he returned from bargaining with the sirens.
I don’t know whether he means Willa has been gone too long, or I’ve been using my magic too long. I don’t have the energy toask. I merely grunt in acknowledgement, as another nightmare wracks the nearest child, a little girl I recognize from the Grove. Her parents had been ecstatic to welcome her home after the Strayed were banished last year. Now, they weep at the edges of the gathered crowd, their worry the color of a bruise.
“You can’t keep this up much longer.” Tiernan fingers the hilt of his sword. “I’m going in after her.”
Though ancient by mainland standards, Tiernan is nearly a century younger than me. I am reminded of the age difference on nights like tonight, when his frayed nerves betray a distinctly youthful lack of patience.
I have grown accustomed to waiting. For hours. For years. For centuries. It is as natural as breathing.
“Have some faith,” I manage to reply, lowering myself to sit between two children before I collapse and accidentally crush them. Anxiety peppers the inside of my throat, hot and stinging. I work to swallow it down, to remember it isn’t mine, no matter that my body reacts as if it is.
“I have faith.” Tiernan crumples with an ungraceful grunt to sit beside me, his shoulder bumping into mine. “I also have bloodlust.A lotof it.” He sets me with an imploring gaze. “Are we really going to sit here and do nothing while the Everlasting gallivants around our king’s ship like he has any right to it? We should be raising his head up the masts.”
His words vibrate with a rage Tiernan rarely allows to escape the prison he locks it in. Buried far beneath his irreverent humor and kind soul, an anger borne of a life of too little food and too much violence. As one of the youngest Strayed, nothing was given to him. He’d had to kill and steal for the little he had, and though he’s adept at keeping the worst of his inclinations hidden, I always feel them simmering beneath his surface.
“Sounds rather messy,” I reply dryly.
“Doesn’t sound messy enough,” Tiernan snaps back with a feral grin that fades quickly into concern. “You should take a break.”
“Can’t.”
It’s the only word I can manage as I lose focus of the rhythm of the sea. The children’s fear that had been prickling at my skin slips beneath the surface. It tightens around my throat like a noose, and for a terrifying moment, it feels like I won’t ever be able to breathe again.
But then Tiernan’s hand is curling around my shoulder, his other guiding my palm gently to his chest. “Breathe,” he commands, his gaze as steady as the feel of his heartbeat beneath my fingers. “In.” His chest rises. “And out.”
I lock onto his gaze like it is an anchor at sea, and slow my breathing to match his.
“In. And out.”
He repeats the mantra softly, over and over, until the panic ricocheting through me ebbs. A few more breaths, and the tightness in my chest eases.
Tiernan gives me a goofy grin. “Better, yeah?”
“Yeah.” I remove my palm from his chest to rub my own. The children’s fear is now only an echo, prickling once more at the surface of my skin. “Thank you.”
Tiernan waves me off like his gesture was nothing, and it makes me feel like crying. To Tiernan, the empathy that spills from him is normal. I wish I had the words to explain how rare it actually is, or how it feels to have someone else carry the emotional burden, even for the smallest moment.
“I’m giving Willa ten more minutes, and then I’m boarding that ship,” he growls out, anger radiating from him. “You can’t keep this up much longer, and star only knows what’s happening in there.”
His fury sounds like frenetic heartbeats, feels like the heated pulse of adrenaline through veins. It tastes of bile, bitter on my tongue. The warm tendrils of my magic unfurl from their place behind my heart, drawn instinctively to the boy.
Gritting my teeth, I work to keep from absorbing Tiernan’s anger beneath my skin.
“Our queen is not some delicate flower that will crumple at the first threat,” I reply in a strained tone. “And neither am I. I’ll keep it up as long as I have to.”
Tiernan whistles a breath through his teeth, and leans back on his heels. “I won’t let either of you ruin yourselves for someone else’s nightmare. Ten minutes, Sam. And if you don’t listen, I swear to the star above, I’ll go get Adira if I have to.”
“Adira?” I repeat faintly. “What does she have to do with anything?”
