Font Size:

The empty spot where the onyx ship was usually secured gaped like a wound. I was so busy trying to figure out where he could be that I didn’t realize we’d sailed past the docks until we were almost around the bend of the island, leaving the harbor and the Hird behind.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

My ship didn’t make a sound as she continued sailing swiftly through the waters, keeping the island starboard. The bow broke the waves so smoothly it barely felt like we were moving.

I tried to sound more stern. “We need to go back. I need to make sure I don’t miss anything important.”

Still no reaction.

“Gods,” I said with a huff. “Maybe I should name you Envis.”

It was an old word for stubborn, and it described her perfectly. The planks beneath my feet lifted twice, the captain’s wheel warming.

“You like that?”

Another tremor went through the wood beneath my boots, and I shook my head. “You’re a strange ship.”

She heeled so swiftly a wave of water washed over me, drenching me. Using the back of my hand, I got most of the brackish water out of my eyes. I squinted against the sun starting to set over the horizon, where five ships were floating ahead.

“Guess I deserved that,” I mumbled. “I won’t call you strange again.”

The vessels grew closer. My pulse thrummed when Darcke’s and Torden’s ships shifted on the soft waves outside the inlet leading to the lake behind the Hird, allowing space for us to moor beside them.

I nervously pulled at my wet leathers when Darcke’s presence surrounded me even though we were still a hundred feet away. I patted the messy braids in my hair and tried, but quickly gave up on, getting out the knots at the back of my neck.

Envis started listing again, the mast creaking as we leaned over the dark water.

“Enough,” I ordered as I slipped on the polished wood. “I won’t have time to clean up, so please don’t throw me overboard.”

Faces were already turned our way, and I fought the urge to hunch over—to hide on the deck and get Envis to sail in the opposite direction as swiftly as she could. Music drifted over the water, drums and horns weaving a fast beat that didn’t suit the quiet sunset. As we came closer, the smell of meat and wine and ale layered over us like the mist back at Morkskog.

A thrill of anticipation went through the ship, and Envis started sailing faster.

“Easy,” I cautioned. “I don’t think they’ll like it if you bump into them.”

Obviously, she didn’t listen. I had to grab the mast when she opened the sails wider instead, making us fly toward the festivities.

“Envis!” I called. “Stop! We’re going to crash!”

The people on the deck had realized the same thing, and people started shoving each other as they moved away from the stern of the two ships. Only one person stood still, his arms crossed over his wide chest and his blond hair blown back from his face as he waited for us to slam into his vessel.

“Stop,” I demanded again, but my voice was as unconvincing as my mind.

Envis picked up on my mood, and I pretended to turn away to be able to hold on when she increased her speed, her furious intent to knock my second off the deck making me giggle into the arm I used to cover my face.

Shouts reverberated over the water when the music cut off, and the ships shifted when people fought for space in the bows to get away from my rogue vessel. Darcke remained in his place, andwhen I could make out his face, it was calm—relaxed—only one brow raised as if watching an unruly child.

“Can you run him over after you get him into the water too?” I hissed between my teeth.

Envis lifted her brow, then slammed it down into the water three times. I suddenly had no idea why I’d been worried about the golden oak blessing me.

“Slow down,” Darcke ordered.

“Don’t,” I said, arching my own brows in defiance.

Don’t fucking test me, heir. You will regret it.

I didn’t actually hear him, but it was what I imagined he was telling me in his mind. That distant fury I’d felt out at sea filled me now, taking over every part of my mind, and it was a relief to be able to focus on one emotion, not the worry and sorrow and fear that had clawed at my throat the past two days.