“But thisis so much more fun.” At my bland look, he laughed once more, his knuckles popping before he rested his elbows upon the table. “Okay—okay fine. I like the man, a lot actually. We discussed him possibly coming to Amori City for a trip or me going back to the desert to explore when we’re not on a plague-destroying quest.”
He looked nervous as he spoke, his gaze avoiding mine, as though he thought I’d disapprove. My hand settled over his forearm, giving himwhat I hoped was a comforting pat. “I think that’s an amazing idea. Merle will adorehim, you know. Especially if he makes you happy.”
“She would, huh?” I hummed my agreement at the smile that settled over his features, wistful and distant. “I don’t think he’d ever leave the desert though and I’m not sure I could leave you two.”
My shoulder lifted, eyes dancing. “Future problems, cousin. Enjoy the now and worry later.”
“Is that what you’ve been telling yourself?”
“It’s become my mantra lately.”
His laugh was rueful, near disapproving. “Thatmakes a lot of sense.”
My eyes rolled, shoulder bumping into his. “Oh shut up, you big oaf.”
He grew quiet for a moment. “How are you holding up after that meeting with Wraith, it was a bit—” Hesitation drew out the words, his lips flattening. “Intense?”
My laugh was breathy. “Intense? That’s one way to put it.”
“Oh come on,” he muttered, nudging me gently. “You know what I mean. He had a lot to say about your Ma and his claims about the source of The Fever were rather insane—”
“Do you think what he said is true? Could it possibly be derived from the Solerians?”
Bran grew thoughtful, shifting in his seat. “It wouldn’t have been King Artius, but King Melron.” The old King was long dead, but his legacy held true. His dislike for Luanthians was held fast by his son, his heir. “But could he have been so cruel as to not only harm Luanthians but his own people as a means to whatever end he wished to reach?”
My finger traced the rim of my tankard, a low sigh escaping my lips. “Someone once told me that it’s not the tales of ghouls, ghosts, and the dead that scare them the most, but instead the living. It’s the living that terrifies them and I think they may have had a point. Have we beenso focused upon a curse born from the divine because the thought of anotherhumancasting this vile torture was too implausible?”
“How would they have even created it?”
“That’s exactly what we need to find out.”
There was a moment of silence and then—
“About Kairen…” he trailed off, a low note of disbelief framing his words. “It couldn’t be true, could it? I mean good, if they have been, but it complicates our return and involvement with them, right?”
A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I took a deep draft of the firemead. “Future problems, dear cousin. Future fucking problems.”
The clouds above had been dark swirling masses for the past hour and an uneasy feeling settled over the ship, like the gloom of the storm was weighing on us all. I’d looked to Malika every few minutes where she sat high in the bird’s nest, her watchful eyes taking in patterns among the clouds that my untrained ones could not see. Antoni had ordered Taven to shift our course, bringing us closer to the coast upon which we sailed should we need quick refuge, but still we were far away. A ship could only move so fast, and it wasn’t near as quick as a storm.
The waters had grown rough too, so rough that my potions for Rena had become utterly useless. The woman had been shivering for the last hour as she clung to the siding of the vessel and emptied the contents of her stomach overboard.
Kairen sat with her now as I paced near the masts, rubbing my chilled hands together. Even in the gloves, they grew numb from the wind that ravaged all around us.
“To the north, coming quick now!”
Malika’s warning came sharp, a war cry from her post. My eyes found Antoni immediately, catching the tensing of his jaw.
“All hands on deck!”His yell was thunderous, echoing over the wind and sea and for the briefest of moments, I wondered if he had used his blessed magic to amplify his voice. I glanced towards the stairs that led into the cabin below, where Bran and Roan emerged from, their time to find warmth cut far too short.
Nerves danced up my spine as Antoni regarded our group. “You lot are about to getveryexperienced in the art of surviving a storm. We’re still too far from land to take shelter.” Anxiety grew tight in my chest as his gaze hardened. “You will do what I say, when I say it,asI say it if you want to live. Do you understand?” His amber eyes swept over each of us individually, so stern my spine straightened when they landed upon me.
“Roan you’re with Kidd, Bran with Taven—you’ll help keep control of the wheel so doexactlyas he instructs.” He glanced over at Kairen then Rena. “You two are with Mal. Syra, you’re with me.” His next words were to his crew only. “You lot know what to do.”
Without another word he spun on his heel, his steps quick and I hurried to follow after him. His glance was sidelong, his attention catching momentarily on the shaking of my hands. “Are you scared?”
I hesitated for only a moment. “Terrified, actually.”
Antoni’s head dipped, apparently satisfied with that answer. “Good, you should be. Overconfidence kills on the open sea. Be scared, feel your fear, and let it keep you alive.” He tossed me a rope. “Tie it around your waist, tight and strong—you know how to tie strong knots, yes? Good. Just like that.”
