“Starling!” Raven shouts, and I tear my gaze away.
He and Nyssa are both waiting for me on the dock, watching me expectantly. The rest of the Flight must have already boarded the ship. The realization spurs me on, a sudden sense of urgency nipping at my heels.
“Sorry,” I say when I reach them. “It’s surreal to finally be going home.”
Nyssa takes my hand and leads me up the gangplank, offering me a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. It’s a small smile. One made of broken glass and fragile things—as if, despite not knowing what happened, she feels my pain viscerally anyway. We’ve always had that sort of friendship. The type where if one of us bleeds, the other’s blood spills too.
When my boots hit the deck, emotions flood me. Too many for me to sort through, so I swallow them down instead. Two of the crewmembers slip past us and haul up the plank. Once they’ve strapped it down, one of them looks to the helm and signals with his hand. I follow his line of sight up to the grinning captain, who grips the wheel.
“Now that my favorite passengers are on board, let’s head home!” he shouts.
The crew cheers in response, and part of me wants to smile with them, but when my eyes land once again on the covered cage, I can only manage to grimace instead.
“Thank the gods this trip won’t take long,” Nyssa mutters under her breath.
The ship pushes away from the docks, and we both stumble, but a hand lands on my hip to steady me. The heat of Raven’s body burns at my back, and I know if it weren’t for Nyssa standing right beside me, he’d be demanding answers. I hear his intake of breath, as though he’s about to speak, and my chest tightens at the sound.
“I’m going to go check in with the captain,” I say abruptly, setting off toward the helm before he has a chance to respond.
I throw a surreptitious glance over my shoulder as I climb the steps and see Raven and Nyssa with their heads bent close, exchanging sharp whispers. I grit my teeth but force a smile on my face as Nikolas comes into view.
“Should I be preparing myself for another of your wild rides, Captain?”
The look he throws my way is wicked, and my mouth pops open in horror when I realize how my question could be construed. My cheeks heat, and I start to backtrack, but he talks over the top of my attempt.
“Sweet Starling, I’m not sure you could ever be prepared enough for awild ridewith me.”
A strangled laugh escapes me, and I slam a palm over my mouth, my eyes going wide like I’m not sure where the foreign sound could have possibly come from. Nikolas quirks a brow at me, his blue eyes glimmering like the ocean that spreads out before us.
I tear my hand away from my mouth to slap him on the arm instead. “You’re appalling.”
“I think you missed a vowel there. What you really meant isappealing.”
“Only in your dreams, Captain.”
“And what wonderful dreams they are,” he says wistfully.
I snort a laugh and roll my eyes, leaning against the railing as I watch the crew rush about the ship below, making the final preparations. “How long will it take us to reach the Sorrows?”
“Didn’t want to ask yourcommander?” His tone drips with insinuation. I turn a sharp glare his way, and he offers me a knowing look before his eyes dart toward the prow.
I follow his gaze and see the rest of my companions standing there. Lark tucks Nyssa beneath his arm, and they lean against the railing, watching the others have what looks like a rather heated discussion. Raven’s arms are crossed over his broad chest, a steely expression in his eyes as he listens to whatever Heron and Myna are arguing about. Like he can sense my attention, those eyes snap toward me, his mouth set in a firm line, before he forces his gaze away.
There’s a wry twist to my lips as I turn back to Nikolas. “Why would I do that when I have the ship’s captain at my disposal?”
“Careful, my lady, or I may be inclined to have you walk the plank.” There’s a mischievous twinkle in Nikolas’s eyes. “But to answer your question, we should arrive as the sun sets.”
A companionable silence falls over us. Between it and the lighthearted banter, the tension in my chest shifts, loosening enough to make it easier to breathe. I close my eyes, relishing the feel of the wind tugging at my hair, the salty spray on my skin, and the sun on my face as it grows warmer.
Neither of us speaks for a long time, content to watch the waves slip by as the ship cuts through the water. But when Nikolas does, he repeats words he said to me before that now seem like they were first spoken an age ago.
“Tell me, Starling, did you feel the fear of the unknown? The rush of excitement flooding your body? The thrill of triumph?”
He’s too perceptive, this captain. He asks the questions with theslightest hint of hesitancy. As though I’m an injured wild animal and he fears his approach may startle me enough to send me running.
I wait for the feeling to hit me. For the muscles in my limbs to bunch up, preparing to take flight, for the dread to wrap its icy fingers around my heart.
But it doesn’t come.
