“It means you need to take these supplies and be on your way,” she says, and from the way she motions to the pigs along with the basket, it’s clear they’re part of the deal.
“We’ll take them,” I say before Riven can object.
He doesn’t argue. He just watches me with those unreadable silver eyes of his, frost crackling at his fingertips.
“A wise choice,” Circe says with a knowing smile. “Far better to feed from my transformed sailors than to be tempted by... alternatives.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, but I refuse to look at Riven. Instead, I study the distant horizon, where that massive fortress I’ve been glimpsing through the clouds stands dark and forbidding against the sky.
“What is that place?” I ask Circe, partly to change the subject away from Riven’s blood, and partly because its presence has been nagging at me since we arrived. “That fortress in the distance?”
“Ah.” Her expression shifts, becoming more serious. “That’s Blaze Academy.”
Riven glances at it, studying it, then turns back to Circe.
“An academy for what?” he asks her, his voice carefully neutral.
“For witches, of course. I help guard its waters. Ensure that no one gets in—or out—who isn’t meant to,” she explains, turning to me. “You, Star Navigator, were able to sail these waters safely because of your magic. All others... let’s just say they’re not as lucky.”
“What happens to them?” I ask, waves lapping harder against the pier as my unease grows.
“Over the centuries, I’ve had my share of bodies wash up on shore.” She says it casually, as if discussing the weather. “Witches who tried to leave the academy and failed. Although,failedmight be too gentle a word. Because those who try to leave Blaze Academy don’t just drown. The sea makes sure of it.”
A heavy silence falls over us. Even the pigs huddle closer together, as if sensing the sharp shift in the air.
“What kind of academy needs that level of security?” Riven asks.
“The kind that’s better left alone,” Circe replies smoothly. “Now, you two should be on your way. The stars are waiting.”
I glance at the academy’s tower one last time, but clouds have already swept in to obscure it. Still, I can feel its presence—a weight of ancient magic pressing against my senses.
“Come on,” Riven says to me, the quiet command in his voice snapping me back to focus. “And Circe… your generosity is appreciated.”
“Don’t mention it,” she says, cocking her head and giving us a mischievous smile. “Truly. After all, I don’t want word getting around that I’ve turned considerate.”
I can’t help it—I laugh.
Because despite the whole “transforming men into pigs” thing, Circe isn’t all that bad.
“Oh, and Sapphire?” she says.
“Yeah?”
“When you return to Aeaea for a more relaxing family visit, bring me stories more interesting than heartbreak and betrayal.”
Then she’s gone in a burst of flames, leaving the smell of smoke, a pile of scorched boards, the basket of supplies, and three confused pigs in her wake.
