“What are ye doin’?!” he snapped. “Are ye tryin’ to get us caught?!”
“You’re the one trying to stab me!” The words were muffled behind the shield of my fingers.
“What?!” he whisper-screamed, eyes darting to the park’s entry gate and the small hut that housed the rangers. His hands fisted at his sides, hood rustling with the movement. A sliver of moon danced over his fuming red cheeks. “Why would I be tryin’ to kill ye?!”
“I don’t know. Easy target?” I was too shocked to come up with a reasonable answer, too on edge from the night before.
“Ye may be te one wit te contract, but it’s my arse on te line here,” he snarled, slicing the dagger through the air. “If ye fail, I fail. Listen ’ere, girl… if ye go into that cave without any sort of weapon, yer bones will be just another decoration on te floor. Capiche?”
Nodding in understanding, I gulped down the rising fear.
He spun the blade between his fingers before offering me the pommel. “Now get yer shit together. Failure is not an option t’night.”
“Right. Great pep talk.” I grasped the hilt, the cool metal biting against my skin. The intricate grooves of the steel handle were dotted with specks of clear blue—shards of crystals, the same kind that I had seen covering the dwarfdom, were welded onto the blade. “I’ve got it now.”
It slipped from my grip, landing tip down, nearly impaling my toe.
“For te love of te saints,” he cursed under his breath.
“Sorry, this was probably expensive,” I murmured, stumbling to grab it, a flash of heat searing my temples and neck. “Um, where exactly do I put it?”
The whites of his eyes reflected in the dim light. “Take this.” He passed me a scabbard with runes stitched into the leather.
“Thanks.” My fingers were clammy, even if the coastal air was crisp and chilling, as I attached it to my waistband. It looked ridiculous on me. Like I was playing dress-up.
The last time I’d held a weapon, it was the smooth shaft of an arrow, the curved wood of a bow. Ryder’s.
“Nemuik…” I tried not to let the hesitation seep into my voice, but I had to know, in case I didn’t make it out alive, in case I didn’t get another chance. “This odd obsession I have with the Pearl, does it just… go away once everything’s done?”
Air steamed out of his wiry-haired nostrils, and he waited a beat, as if taking extra time to decipher my words. “Once yer mission is complete, ye don’t ’ave a target, so yer huntin’ instinct naturally fades.”
And there I had it. Ryder and I meant nothing, then.
“Got it.” Even though I didn’t say his name, the way my voice quavered must have made it apparent.
“Te tattoo is what may have brought him to ye, but those feelins’, they belonged to him,” he added, unprompted.
I shook it off, the reality of it already sinking into me like claws. Did he not know Ryder had only pretended to like me to complete his own contract, or did the dwarf just not realize how good the guy was at his job?
“Anyways.” His boot scuffed the dirt. “Ready?”
Pulling on the strings of my hoodie, I gave Nemuik a tense nod, feeling anything but.
“I can only lead ye to te half-mile marker,” he warned. “Too dangerous for me after that.”
“Too dangerous for you?” I raised a brow. “Aren’t you a ruthless killer?”
“Not a great swimmer. And, ye know, te area is spelled.”
“Ok,” I blew out the word, my confidence leaking out with it.
Knees bent, shoulders hunched, he crept down the small hill into the sand dunes below.
I didn’t think, I just went, trailing his silent footsteps, hoping the midnight mist blanketed our silhouettes from any rangers still lingering about.
Once we reached the damp band of water-soaked sand at the foot of the bluffs, he held up a hand in signal, and I froze. Something skittered across the shelf of tide pools above—too big to be a crab.
Back flush against the salt-crusted edge, I leaned just far enough to see onto the ledge.
