“I know what you mean.”
“It was always easier for my sister to adapt.” I give the dagger another slash through the air.
“Is she the social type?”
“Very.”
Rynthea smiles at me, nodding. “You’re doing something selfless for your sister, Zaira.” She grabs my forearm and tilts my elbow so it’s locked in the proper position. Then she tells me to tighten my grip on the hilt. “I don’t know any mortal who would risk their lives doing what you’re doing. Most would’ve sat around whimpering and waiting for the person they love to die.”
“Ican’tlet her die.” I meet her honey-colored eyes. “You still think it’s extreme of me? Going to The Shallows and all?”
“Oh, one hundred percent.” She laughs. “But I get it. I would do anything for Tor. No matter what we are—mortal, beastial, sorcerer, minotaur—we want the best for our family. Even if it means risking our lives, it’s better to take the chance than to do nothing at all.”
“Agreed.”
“But I have to ask you, Zaira…” She pauses and squints as wisps of sunlight beam down on her. “You’re an incredibly smart person. Do you think it’s wise to be sleeping with a man like Thane?”
My heart drops. “W-what—”
“I can hear things from very far away. When you’re in an inn as quiet as this one”—she gestures behind me—“it’s kind of hard to ignore certain sounds.”
My face burns, and I drop my eyes, too embarrassed to look at her now. “I…don’t know what to say.”
“Fortunately for you, I have the ability to shut noise out, too,” she says. “As soon as I heard you two start, I tuned it out.”
“Well, thank you for that, but that doesn’t make this conversation any less awkward,” I return with an equally awkward laugh.
“I own an inn. I’ve heard way worse.” She pauses, contemplatively pressing her lips together. “But can I be honest with you?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t see whatever this is between you and that sorcerer ending well.”
I look at Thane, who is practicing with his swords. He has a sword in each hand, swinging them with perfect balance and precision. He performs moves with them that I’m certain not many people in Thelanor could do. The blades catch in the sunlight as he jabs, slices, and swings at the air.
“There’s nothing to worry about.” I face Rynthea again. “Our emotions aren’t involved.”
She raises a brow as she picks up her scythesword. “You sure?”
“Yes.” My response is firm, but the word hurts my heart as it leaves me, like something is trying to puncture it. “I’m sure.”
“Zaira.” Thane’s voice rises up behind me.
I twist around, worried that he may have overheard me. But I quickly realize that he’s not alone.
Standing a few steps away from him is Enver, who says, “Captain Solyen just docked.”
Chapter 42
Captain Solyen’s personality is not at all what I expected.
Enver talked about him like he was an ordinary man, and though he seems like a common broad-shouldered mortal with a graying beard, golden-brown skin, and a pot belly, he’s adrunk.
“Look at the lot of you!” he bellows as he meets us on the dock. He walks with his back straight and a silver flask in his right hand. Before he stops in front of us, he takes a swig from the flask, then releases a wet gasp.
Behind him is a massive black ship with silver trimmings. The nameEmellieis painted on the ship’s bow in silver as well. Black-and-ivory sails flap gently in the breeze while several men march along the deck, tossing ropes and washing the deck. One man is in the crow’s nest watching us. When I catch his eye, he turns away.
“Captain Solyen, this is the group I was telling you about.” Enver gestures to us with a sway of his hand. “They’ve requested someone to sail them to The Shallows.”
