Minimus’s affection must be a fluke. I search for his pink body amidst the reptilian ones writhing around the submerged part of the boat but spot only yellows, oranges, and teals. Lore spins in a circle over the stern of the ship, the farthest point from where we stand.
The wood creaks as the ocean rolls the marooned vessel, tugging on the rigging Antoni and the others hooked between the bow of the boat and the boulders cinching the cove.
They’ve locked my crow in a cage of obsidian in the captain’s quarters.He nods to the hull.Here.
I gulp as I measure the length and depth I’m going to have to swim.
“How did four halflings manage to dredge a boat that was way off the shore into this cozy cove?” Tavo asks.
“Using our boat,” Antoni says, but a look passes between one of Lorcan’s crows and the captain that hints at something else. Another tool. Another source of help.
“Which is where?”
“On that reef.” Syb jabs her thumb toward the farthest outcropping of sharp boulders jutting from the sea. “Didn’t you hear we crashed?”
“What’s on your ear?” Dante’s squinting at Sybille’s lobes, which bears a hoop speared through with an emerald bead.
The same bead decorates Mattia’s and Riccio’s ears. Only Antoni doesn’t wear one.
She combs her hair forward, as though to hide what the prince has already seen.
“It looks like one of Lazarus’s healing crystals.” Gabriele’s gray eyes skip between Syb and the others.
Lazarus, who healed my arm the day I disembarked on Isolacuori.
Lazarus, who lied about the iron contamination of my blood.
Who knew about Marco’s involvement in Andrea’s death.
Tavo frowns. “The old crone’s working against the Regio family?”
Sybille’s cheeks puff as she blows out a breath. “He’s not working against the Regios. He’s working against Marco.”
Dante trails the two black birds, which are still circling the area in the ship where their brother rests imprisoned.
“Marco is approaching fast, Fallon.” Gabriele’s voice cuts through the sudden quiet that’s fallen over us.
“Time to get your feet wet, Serpent-charmer.” Tavo removes a dagger from his belt and begins to pick at his nails with its point. He better not be contemplating using the blade on the serpents. “Or should I say, Crow-girl?”
“Crow-girl?” Sybille’s eyebrows are tipped toward one another.
“Haven’t you heard?” Tavo points his dagger at the ship. “One of the Crows on that galleon fatheredBottom of the Jug’s favorite barmaid. Apologies, Syb. I’m sure the customers like you too. It’s your sister they’re not too fond of.”
I don’t think Sybille registers the utter nonsense that came after the fathering bit. “You’re part Crow?”
I sigh. “Apparently.”
“So, now that we got that out of the way, explain how you hauled that boat”—he gestures to the galleon again—“onto this shore.”
“We’ve been using our combined magic to drag it,” Sybille confesses, daring him to tell her they’ve broken the law.
Tavo twirls his dagger. “Didn’t know round-ears possessed so much magic, combined or not.”
“We’ve got quite the stock, what with not being allowed to use it on the regular.” Sybille flings a dark smile at the spiky-eared soldier.
“With the help of purelings, we should be able to uncover the full ship.” Riccio’s arms are folded in front of his torso. Like Antoni, he wears only pants. Unlike Antoni, his biceps do not glow with stacked favors.
“Why would we deplete our magic when Fallon’s not only a water-Fae but buddy-buddy with the serpents?” Tavo’s forehead pleats, and then his neck snaps back. “You don’t need to fucking shout inside my mind.” Under his breath, he mutters, “Fucking Crow.”
