Jaytair cranks his head toward me, communicating that my refusal displeases him.
I tap his fluffy shoulder. “I won’t dive into the ocean.” When he makes a sound between a squawk and a grunt, I add, “I promise. Now get up there and screech if you spot wildlife. I’d really like to see at least one new creature today.”
He slants me a look as he springs off the deck. I watch them ascend before tightening my gaze on the blue swells below.
I’m so lost in my nature-watching that I fail to sense the Faerie situated beside me until he utters a, “There,” and nods to his ocean.
10
ISLA
Unlike me, Konstantin isn’t gripping the varnished railing. His hands are knotted behind his back, his stance wide to keep his body from tipping from the gentle roll of the boat.
“If you keep staring at me, Miss Ríhbiadh, you’ll miss the whale.Again.”
I jerk my attention back to the bay that ripples as a massive forked tail slaps the surface, springing droplets of seawater upward. The bite of the ice-cold foam along my chin and nose is so startling that it tears a tiny gasp from my lips, but the gasp is soon followed by awe when the mammal propels its body upward before slamming down.
Laughter puffs from my lungs as I mop my face. The whale must slip under the galleon and reappear on its other side, for giddy cheers arise from there next.
“Such magnificent creatures.” I hunt the deep for another one, but it seems it isn’t part of a pod. Just then, three smaller black whales leap from the water. “Are those its babes?”
“No.Thoseare our orcas.”
I grip the handrail even tighter and lean forward as they weave and leap in the ship’s shadow, emitting high-pitched squeals like children at play.
When a cushion of air presses against my nose and forehead, I turn my attention back to the Glacin. “I won’t leap in.”
He doesn’t rein back his air-magic.
I straighten and pop one hand on my hip. “Even if I did, I’m a Crow, not a Serpent, so I doubt they’d enjoy my taste. Not to mention, I’m essentially unkillable.”
“Perhaps, but I’m Fae and—in spite of my amulet—verykillable.”
“How would my toppling over be your fault?”
“Because it’s my kingdom, Miss Ríhbiadh.” His gaze lifts to the snow-covered shore that glimmers as though fashioned from sequins, before stroking the horizon crenellated with mountains as spiky as pureling ears. “Everything that happens here is my fault.”
“Mórrígan, you sound like my father.”
“It’s every monarch’s onus.”
“Taking care of their people, certainly, but lugging around guilt for actions out of your control will only end up snapping your spine and mind.”
Konstantin’s lashes flutter as his eyes slide toward me.
I lean my hip against the railing and cross my arms. “Even almighty, magical beings cannot protecteveryone, Vizosh.”
His pupils tighten on me before tightening, once more, on the landscape. “A shame your parents had to leave early. I hope the protests in Tarespagia calm.”
Is that the excuse my mother used? Unrest in the west?
“I hope so as well.” I’m about to turn back toward the ocean when I ask, “What irked you this morning? Another derailment? A bombing?”
He’s quiet for so long that I think I’ve overstepped the line of our camaraderie, but then his pale-pink lips move over the word, “Another derailment. Over a gorge. None of the humans made it and some of the Fae are still missing.” Though his knuckles don’t crack, I don’t miss how his fingers flex around one another.
“I’m sorry,” I finally say.
He stares straight ahead of him.
