Relaxing into Ivren’s chest, I breathed, “Have your people been attacked at home?”
His island was the closest one to here.
Ivren’s arm moved around my back, his other hand pretending to play with my hair. “Not now,” he whispered. “It’s not safe.”
Darcke’s eyes narrowed as they followed Ivren’s movements, and I avoided them as I nodded, something cold snaking over my shoulders.
“Later, then,” I whispered.
The skin at the nape of my neck prickled when Ivren breathed, “Yes.”
What if what happened to my father and brother wasn’t an isolated event? It would explain why the Hird was even more ruthless this year—why the king needed us to be ready for battle even before we’d started the academy, why he’d already pitted us against his enemies.
“Why are you all still sitting?” Guner growled. “I said the kingwants the training to go on. The moon won’t set for a few hours, so go get some sleep.” With that he stormed off to yell at initiates at some of the other hearths.
“What are we doing now?” Stefen asked as he slid an arm under Rakkel’s shoulders, helping the heir onto shaking legs.
“Fight training aboard our ships,” Torden responded. “The king wants everyone drilled in defensive readiness and evasion tactics.”
“Fitting,” I mumbled, earning myself another warning look from Darcke.
Torden gave us what I think was supposed to be a grounding smile, but Darcke’s mocking scowl limited its impact. “Good luck,” he called over his shoulder.
It might have been the least encouraging thing I’d ever heard.
Seventeen
Five ships were tied together, and on each Guner and his men had created a makeshift training ring, marked by four barrels and a rope tied in between. Their hulls cast into shade the dock we walked on, and my muscles coiled when warning whispers reached my ears as we approached Torden standing at the end.
“That’s the ship we were on that night on the lake,” I observed quietly.
Viljan turned from me to the beautiful oak ship floating farthest away, where the elaborate dreki figurehead in the bow stared at us as if it would either eat or extinguish us in the blue flames dreki were rumored to spew.
He didn’t respond, though, his expression fixed in a severe mask. After Darcke and the others had left last night, I’d also sneaked out, and even though Viljan had called after me, I’d disappeared between the trees. I’d needed to see that he was alive, but as those karls, with Geord egging them on, inched closer, I knew I needed to go back to keeping him at an arm’s length.
“Do you think it’s his?” Rakkel limped up my side, cocking her head to Torden.
The warrior with the long brown hair and the kind blue eyeskept a possessive hand on the vessel, and when he noticed me, he only patted the hull, giving me a strange smile.
“It must be,” I replied slowly.
A vibration went through the black wood of the ship closest to us, running through the entire vessel until the dock shivered as well. I looked up at the tall stem. It was Darcke’s ship, and I couldn’t tell if it was still amused after our venture out on the water or if it had finally sided with Darcke and was furious that I’d dared sail it without its master.
“Hello again,” I mumbled when the ship creaked.
Darcke’s ship hummed with recognition, but I shuddered as it lifted atop the waves that rolled in under the dock and hid the sun entirely. An unsettling wind blew through the group of initiates walking around me, quieting even the most hushed whispers with its strange chill.
The other ships groaned in response, a rhythmic beat thrumming through the air. I wasn’t the only one who made sure to remain in the middle of the dock as we continued forward.
These ships were not the polished ones floating in the king’s harbor, with the heavy gilded figureheads, shining decks, and spotless sails. They had seen battle and death and blood—knew the cost of war intimately.
A deep wound I hadn’t seen last time ran down the port side of Darcke’s ship, and when the vessel remained still, I reached out a hand to touch it. A wave of fear and desperation and urgency rushed over my skin, making me retract my fingers as if I was the one who’d been cut.
“Careful,” Rakkel said quietly. “He’s watching you.”
I didn’t need to look up to know who she meant. Darcke had taken up a spot beside Torden together with three other warriors—each as rugged as the ships floating around us. The scarred man on Torden’s other side turned, showing off the tattoo of a rune that was inked where his left eye should be.
“It’s the rune for betrayal,” Rakkel said. “Someone he trustedtook that eye. He’s warning others not to make the same mistake.”
