Afton turned his attention back to her, green eyes boring into hers as he continued. “But she didn’t have to be.”
There was the secret that could damn them both. He knew what they did for aberrants. If the crown found out about the Yarrows and that Afton’s family had once contacted her parents for help…they would both pay dearly.
“I’m sorry,” she responded, but it felt entirely inadequate.
Afton shook his head, stray hairs falling around his face. “She made her choice. Decided not to go.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, tension building in the silence as Erinna tried to figure out what to say. “So, a truce?”
Afton’s eyes widened a fraction, most likely in shock. “Yes. And if you ever feel inclined to exchange information, I’d be happy to help.”
Erinna looked once more at the iron bars around the door. “Just find us a way in, and try not to kill us in the process.”
“Deal,” he chuckled and, as if sensing the end of Erinna’s patience, turned to leave. “It’s an open offer, by the way,” he called over his shoulder.
Erinna didn’t grace him with a response as he walked off toward the center of the courtyard and eventually disappeared back into the old guardstation. Erinna would do whatever she could to keep her secrets from that man, but a small knot in the pit of her stomach begged her to reconsider.
After another useless hour, Erinna gave up her meager investigation. Her head buzzed with fatigue, and there was little time left before the crack of dawn. Lila would be ready to scream her awake, and it would be ill-advised to work with witchstone on such a lack of sleep.
She crawled back onto her mat, hoping that her movement didn’t wake the slumbering Inez. She carefully tucked the items from home by her feet.
Talent prickled beneath her skin, and Erinna swallowed a gasp. The unwanted flare was a sign of slowly waning control, and Erinna had yet to decipher the cause.
She grabbed fitfully at the cup of tea she made earlier and downed the remaining sips. The water was cold and herbs bitter without warmth, but she would stomach it as long as it kept the nightmares at bay and granted some level of normalcy. Eventually sleep grabbed at her consciousness and Erinna prayed the tea would continue to work.
Chapter
Twenty-One
Nothing was working.
A week had passed, and they were running out of time. The academy would be arriving soon to finalize Haru’s position as Chancellor and once the library was attuned to its new master, it would be impossible for anyone else to enter.
Erinna’s hope faded every day the door remained shut, and her shame continued to grow with every day she couldn’t fuse the witchstone to the mast. She was just as useless as that stone. Erinna sighed and plopped onto the deck, defeated.
The inert rock lay at her feet atop a pile of wood shavings. She was growing tired of all these failures.
Erinna returned to the mundane task of picking splinters from her thumb and index fingers. There was a shuffle of paper behind her. Erinna glanced at Lila and smirked. “Didn’t know you could read?”
The ship’s master gunner and self-proclaimed weapons master was lounging on her usual perch, an old ale barrel turned stool. Lila rolled her eyes; a book that was clearly missing half its pages was nestled in her hand.
“Didn’t know you weren’t good at this.” The banter was half thought, but bordered on companionable. The two were making great progress toward tolerating each other’s presence.
Erinna turned back to review her work and frowned. All she had been able to do so far was mar the mast with a sizable indent. The stone fit and could balance in the groove so long as a large swell didn’t rock the vessel, which typically happened when a boat was sailing. An hour ago, she swore the witchstone tried to grasp its place in the wood, but shuddered and fell back to the floor with a thud.
Kenneth was always successful. Erinna cursed herself for her oversight. Her father was a druid; he commanded the things of nature. In fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if all he ever had to do was ask the stone and wood nicely and all was well. She huffed in defeat.
With cracked, callused hands she shoved the stone and array of tools back in her bag. It was getting close to lunchtime, and she hoped to take her lookout shift early.
Heavy thundering footsteps sounded across the deck, heading in their direction.
“Lila!” The scream startled Erinna, but the master gunner remained content in her position, flipping to a page that was clearly not in sequence with the last one. Brax thundered toward the two of them, face red and slick with sweat. In the distance, a young crew member scurried off the deck with tears in his eyes, holding an arm close to his chest. From what she could tell, the poor lad was a newer recruit.
“Brax, how many times do I have to tell you to stop maiming the new recruits?” Lila flipped to another page.
Brax’s face grew even more red. “Maybe if they were halfway close to competent, they wouldn’t need to worry about it.”
Lila put the book down and gave him a look of mock sincerity. “How can I assist you?”
