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“That sounds like a kelpie,” I remark, glancing at the castle as I march back up to the sand.
“That’s because it is.” Ross smiles slyly. “I bested the creature and presented it to the Duchess as a betrothal gift.”
“Wow.” That has to be one of the most foolish things I’ve heard in all of my two hundred and fifty years.
“Yes, she was quite impressed,” he says, chuffed with himself. “Unfortunately, she can’t find stable boys willing to take care of the beast, so I’m sailing him down to Daybreak Island in the morning. I have a friend who’s doing business down there, and he'll be more than happy to take him off Darcy’s hands.”
“What the devil could he want with a kelpie?” That sounds like a recipe for misfortune to me.
“You’d be surprised how much people are willing to pay for such rare creatures. Dragon hatchlings, unicorns.” He checks my reaction, testing the waters. I keep my face even, wanting to see how much he’s willing to confide in me. “Jameson LaLocke runs a successful business in trading rare and valuable things.”
Blood rushes to my head.
I know that name all too well. I’ve spent months stalking him and witnessing his cruelty for myself.
Jameson LaLocke profits off of misery. That’s why he was going to be Cordelia’s offering. He should be dead already, his body decomposing on an altar at the bottom of the sea.
Ross watches my expression shift. “Have you heard of him?”
Everything I know about him makes Ross guilty by association. He’s not just a fool, but scum of the realm too.
“Vaguely.”
“Would you be interested in taking a trip to meet him?” he asks. “With your expertise, we could bring him all sorts of rare findings. We could make a killing as a team.”
I could say yes. Cordelia would want me to go down to Daybreak Island and gut him myself since she couldn’t finish the task.
But I’m not leaving here until this business with the sea witch is finished. Once it is, Captain LaLocke will get what’s coming to him.
“I’m afraid I can’t,” I answer. “There’s too much work to be done here.”
He must not be used to people telling him no, because his cheeks pinken as he opens his mouth to argue with me, but a greeting from Darcy cuts off his whining.
“Hallo,” she calls, shuffling down to meet us.
Cordelia walks two steps behind her, her braided chignon showcasing the swan-like curve of her neck. There’s a brooch pinned in the center of the lace ribbon at the bottom of her low, square neckline, the gold embossed with House of Cinder’s emblem.
Our eyes meet for a fleeting second, and then she pulls her mask back up, staring off at nothing.
She’s barely let any emotions slip through the aether since I left her bedchamber two nights ago. I haven’t tried to push any deeper.
I don’t need a bond to know I hurt her.
My stomach drops as Darcy slows her pace and wraps an arm around Cordelia’s waist.
“Good news,” I call back, tilting my vial. “The vegetation washing up on Crossbill Haven isn’t showing any signs of exposure to colder temperatures. I believe the ice dragon’s fortress will take many years to thaw completely.”
No one knows why the dragon sealed herself inside an ice formation. Centuries have passed since it happened, and the tale has been lost to the years.
But King Morrow bound her will to a rune key, the same as he did to me. He never had a good reason for her capture, though.
She’s been hibernating near the Undine Sea this whole time without bothering anyone. She was an easy addition to his collection.
“This is excellent news,” Darcy says, taking the sample.
I place my hands on my hips. “Yes, no need to waste resources on the ice dragon yet.”
“I disagree,” she says. “Taking care of her now might be more efficient. The diving team can screw hooks into the ice formation if we need to move it. I’ve already paid them well for their discretion.”