The palace is too quiet this late at night, even with the many preparations being made for Valoria’s coronation. I put a borrowed bag of Jax’s on my bed, one he’ll never realize I snuck from his disaster of a room, and stare hard at it as I try to figure out what to pack.
There isn’t much time. Kasmira isn’t expecting me, so she won’t wait, and judging by the deep indigo of the starry sky and the utter silence around me, I’ve only got a few hours to slip away unnoticed before the pale gray of predawn wakes the first palace inhabitants.
I toss Master Cymbre’s book into my bag. It’s the only place where she recorded her thoughts, leaving little imprints of herself across the pages, and I like that I can take her with me wherever I go next.
But I can’t take the rest of my friends along, so that leaves my sword, some clothes, and a bunch of jewelry I probably won’t need.
I pull a teardrop-shaped emerald pendant apart from the rest. It’s cold and heavy and sharp against my skin, a perfect farewell gift for Meredy. But how would she react? She’d probably dismiss the gesture as romantic, and I can’t tell her she’s wrong whenIdon’t even know what it means.
I toss it back in the bag.
A lump forms in my throat as I steal down the darkened hall to the guest room where Meredy is staying with Lysander while her sister Elibeth is busy helping repair the Crowther manor and other homes in Noble Park destroyed by Shades.
All is quiet outside Meredy’s door. No trace of light glows from underneath. Not even an occasional grumbling snore from Lysander.
I press my cheek to the cold wood for a moment and close my eyes. It’s hard to believe I once thought her a brat. That I was so befuddled by calming potions, I couldn’t see her for the warrior she is. I’m going to miss her steadying touch when I’m at sea, feeling off-balance around so much that’s new. Squaring my shoulders, I stride quickly away, before thoughts of her can call me back, before she senses the presence outside her door and wakes.
Slipping through an exit not often used, I sling my bag over my shoulder and start off into the night, off to explore the great unknown like Evander always dreamed.
***
The banners of theParadisebillow in a nighttime breeze, beckoning me toward the harbor. I take a misstep and knock over someone’s potted shrub, grinning guiltily because I must still be slightlytipsy from the Festival of Change. After fighting for our lives, we all needed another celebration more than we realized.
A glimmer of moonlight on sleek feathers catches my eye. I turn, gazing up the hill to my right, back toward the palace.
There, pecking the last blackberries of the season from a row of neatly tended bushes under cover of darkness, is a pet peacock with a suspiciously crooked wing.
I raise a hand in greeting. The bird stretches out its long neck and squawks in return. I haven’t broken it after all, only changed it in my moment of carelessness, for better or worse, like Karthia was changed by the actions of a madman.
“I’m really sorry,” I whisper. But sensing movement on the distant ship, I realize there’s no time left for regrets or apologies. The crew is preparing to set sail.
As I run toward my new beginning in the harbor, the salty night wind combing my hair, I realize there are some changes I don’t regret. Ones I’m glad for, even, like Valoria’s inventions—some of them, anyway.
By the time I step on board theParadise, the sky holds a faint trace of gray.
“You sure you want this?” Kasmira asks, looking me over with mild concern after I explain my intentions and press a hefty payment into her hands. “You’ve been through a lot, Sparrow. More than most people endure in a lifetime. All I’m saying is... this is a big decision, and I won’t turn my boat around for anyone.” She smiles and squeezes my shoulder. “Not even my favorite people in the world.”
“I’m sure.”
I follow Kasmira to the sleeping quarters, where I stow my bag in the tiny room I’ll be calling home for Vaia knows how long. I sit on the narrow bed, resting my chin on my hands, trying not to think about anything more than why there are several extra bags shoved in the corner next to a table and water jug.
It looks like my hard-earned money bought me a bed in the storage room.
When the sky has lightened a few more shades, Kasmira raps on the door, beckoning me to the main deck in time to watch the ship pulling away from shore. As I reach the rail, my stomach does a flip. I stare at the sea below, unsure whether I want to watch Karthia retreating into the distance as we glide toward open water through the early morning mist.
“Are you sure you’re in the right place?” a familiar voice asks. “Because we’re not turning this ship around just because a highborn lady forgot her hairbrush. Or so I’ve been told.”
I whirl around.
I must be hallucinating again, some long-ranging side effect of all those calming potions, because she looks different than I remember. Maybe it’s the plain trousers and black blouse beneath her fur-trimmed cloak, or the kohl thickly lining her eyes. Maybe it’s her glowing skin, or the way her smile isn’t so tightly controlled, or that her wine-red hair is half in a braid, half down, falling in waves around her shoulders.
But when she cautiously reaches out to touch my arm and it makes my mouth go dry, I know it’s really her—the person I was trying most to escape, stuck on this too-small boat with me.
I open my mouth to shout to Kasmira at the opposite rail, to demand that she turn the boat around. She catches my gaze and winks, and that’s when I’m certain there will be no turning back. This is really happening.
“Where’s Lysander?” I stammer, glancing around the deck.
“Making sure Kasmira doesn’t take any of his things,” Meredy murmurs.
