“What did he say?” Gabriele asks.
“That the ship’s too unstable to swim through,” Tavo mutters.
Antoni nods. “It is.”
Dante’s attention is on his brother’s ship. “Too fast. Marco’s coming in too fast. We need to hurry.” He spins his head toward the ship sailing from the east, the gold beads in his hair clinking. “Dargento’s vessel is coming in slower.”
I should’ve known the commander was on the other boat.
“But he’s closer.”
Antoni claps his hands. “Let’s do this!”
“My element’s fire, Greco”—Tavo holsters his dagger—“so I’m out.”
“Riccio is a fire-Fae, too.” Sybille sweeps her hand toward the dark-haired half-blood whose eyes are so slitted, they appear more black than red. “And he’s been key to keeping the serpents away. So I’m sure that, for once, we can find you some added value.”
Tavo steps up to her. “Careful, little halfling.”
“Or what?” Syb stands her ground, her straight ebony hair gusting around her face as though her magic is seeping from her very pores. “You’re going to roast me?”
“Tempting.”
She plants her hands on her hips. “Once a bully, forever a bully, huh?”
“Sybille,” Dante says gently. “Please. Not now.”
Syb and Tavo glower at each other.
“Tavo, you’re going to accompany Fallon on deck and keep your fire at the ready in case the serpents attack,” Dante says.
Although the idea of hurting serpents twists my insides, the idea of being swept out to sea by one knots them tauter. Maybe they’ll be as sweet as Minimus. A girl can hope.
Tavo’s Adam’s apple slips up and down his throat. “What about Riccio?”
“He’ll go with the two of you.” Antoni stares at the circling crows. “Lorcan’s crow is in a cage. She’ll need help getting it open.”
“It’s in obsidian, Antoni! Riccio can’t touch obsidian.”
Riccio flicks his lobe, making the little emerald bead twinkle. “Thanks to this little trinket, I can.”
“It counters the effect on our blood,” Sybille explains.
“How nifty,” Tavo says. “Lazarus is so full of nifty magical baubles. Where did he claim he gets them again?”
Dante’s lips thin. “We’ll discuss it later. First, we need to get the crow.”
Tavo’s unbound hair flutters at his back like a crimson streamer. “How about we set fire to the galleon? Once it’s ash, the iron crow statue should be easy to spot.”
Antoni shakes his head. “The wood is too damp to catch fire. We tried.”
“You tried with halfling flames. Pureling flames—”
“We don’t have time to experiment,” Antoni growls. “If Marco shows up before we can reach Lorcan’s crow, he’ll make sure to bury the galleon so deep, the Crow King will never again be a man.”
I suck in a breath.
“That may not be the worst thing,” Tavo quips.
