Raven lunged, clearing the distance between the harbor deck and over the railing of the ship. He tackled Calvin to the ground, each gargantuan paw pushing into his chest.
“Raven, do not kill my friend!” I screeched.
The Zephyreon growled in Calvin’s face, drool leaking from the corners of his mouth.
“I was joking,” he sputtered under the beast. “I’ve seen loads of really brutal ravens and golden dogs on ships. Best petseverfor pirates.”
Raven lowered his snarl, nose to nose with Calvin, and roared. It was ear piercing, shaking the ship and water along with it.
“Don’t tell him,” Noctis whispered with a grin. “Let’s see how many times he’ll say it before Raven pecks his eyes out.”
I laughed. I wouldn’t allow Raven to hurt my friends, but I enjoyed the faint smirk on Noctis’s face.
“Could someone help me? Please?” Calvin begged.
“Raven,” I ordered.
He hesitated before slowly pushing off of Calvin, his canines resting on his lower lip, displaying his dominance and threat.
“We have a lot to tell you all. How is Zahara?” Noctis questioned as Calvin staggered to his feet. He and I lowered the gangplank to walk aboard.
“She’s alive and breathing, but she hasn’t woken up yet. Jun refuses to leave her side.” With each sentence, he numbered them off with his fingers as if listing each fact. “He’s paranoid that the healing sludge Laziel concocted is going to lead to infection. This port has a sort of stagnant and electrifying energy in the air that I can’t explain.”
She’s alive.
I sighed in relief even though Zahara hadn't yet awoken. She would get better in a matter of time.
“Wait–” Calvin cut in. “Why is your skin cracking like your lover’s?”
Noctis tensed at my side.
“He’s not my lover,” I snapped back, and Raven’s feathers flared.Nosey bird.
“That didn’t answer the question.”
“Not lovers? That’s not true. We actually have–” Noctis started, and Calvin’s grin widened across his cheeky face.
Oh, gods… no, not now… or to Calvin.
“I was struck by lightning.” Bet that’d knock the smirk from his face, even though it was a lie.
Calvin’s eyes shot open, jaw falling slack.
“I’ll sort it,” Noctis declared, and the conversation dropped.
We made our way to the captain's quarters to find Laziel, Jun, and Zahara. The captain looked so peaceful, as if death would have been received well—possibly even desired if she knew about her missing appendage.
Exhaustion wracked Jun, like the power and life drained from his entire being at Zahara’s side. Laziel stood in the back corner, pacing and catching glimpses of the sludge that shifted across Zahara’s severed arm right above the elbow. I positioned myself so that my fractured cheek faced the wall, shielding me for the conversation and sure worry it’d cause Jun. There was something about him, the way he used his gifts without hesitation, even when it tore him thin. His priorities were exactly where they needed to be: on Zahara.
“The last trident piece will be more dangerous to receive than all the others combined. We’ll need a plan worthy of it,” I ordered in the shadowy quarters. And the fire in the lanterns flickered as if they heard as well.
We spent the following three days sailing to Brigg Isle, hoping we could get insight into the plan the Royal Vanguard brewed and locate the missing villagers.
I worked with Laziel on the third day, trying to pull up my own powers the Writherbought claimed I owned. With our legs swinging just above the ocean, we sat in silence, the breeze tugging at our clothes and the sun painting golden streaks across the waves below. His eyes kept flicking to the splits in my face, something like a smile touching his mouth for a moment before he looked back to the sea, as if nothing had happened.
“I can’t do it,” I admitted after sitting in the quiet, working to pull up magic I convinced myself I did not possess.
“You can. You sort of have to do it, or you and I will not survive retrieving the last trident piece,” the merfolk responded gently.
