Chapter 17
The small boat rocks back and forth—the stars in the moonless sky bright, reflecting off the water of the channel. Elayne sits on the bench seat beside me, her hands clasped in her lap.
I tap her on the leg and sign, “Thank you for coming with me.”
She studies my hands, gnawing on her lip, then signs back, “I’m going to do everything I can to help find Inez. I think of her constantly—how frightened she must be. She’s been with us, imprisoned, for so long.”
Oars whisper through the water, pushing us forward through the silent night. I scoot closer to her, should Julian understand what we’re saying.
“Sometime in the early hours of the morning, Isolde is going to find our ship. She’s going to help us, then we’re going to return to Ignata and free everyone else.”
Her eyes widen. “Queen Isolde? Why would she help us?”
I press my tongue into my cheek. I’m not sure if, or how far, rumors about our relationship have filtered through the courts, but now doesn’t seem like the best time to bring it up. “She owes me a favor.”
Elayne watches me from the corner of her eyes and gives a nod. A vise tightens in my chest, but when Isolde finds us and we go through with the plan, I’ll tell everyone the truth they deserve.
Kressa sits at the bow, each hand steady on an oar as she studies the foothills on either side of us. Even with my rhodium gloves secure around my palms, there’s an undeniable pull toward her—an ache starting in my sternum, radiating through my ribs.
As if she senses my attention, she turns her head over her shoulder. Our gazes catch, and my pulse jolts against my chest, but she flicks her eyes to Julian behind me.
“We’re nearly there.”
As the last word leaves her mouth, it washes over me. Sea salt and brine, weaving their way into my lungs, wetting the hair at my temple. Celia sits on the bench in front of me, and as a breeze wafts through her hair, the muscles in her shoulders loosen.
Elayne lets out a sigh, and I catch her knuckling a tear from her cheek.
It’s the first time they’ve seen the ocean since they were brought to Ignata. Ten years.
I can’t decide which is worse—seeing the ocean for a decade, but never being able to touch it. Or never seeing it at all.
My heart squeezes at the thought.
We turn a bend in the channel, and the ocean opens ahead of us. In the distance, a ship bobs in the water, cast in deep shadows. I study it—the three masts and statue clinging to the bow the only distinguishable features. There’s a weight in the air between my three crew members and me.
It’s not The Twelfth Night.
The twelfth member of our crew, still unaccounted for.
Whitecaps roll along the sides of the rowboat as we inch closer to the vessel. I scan the neighboring hills and peaks, searching for a hint of the falcon or a glimpse of Isolde’s hair—the curls I used to wrap around my fingers.
My stomach clenches, and I set my gaze on the ship as its hull blankets us in shadow. I glance over my shoulder, toward the way we came, and there’s no hint of Ignata. Not so much as a faint glow of lanterns that light the street.
No surprise the Earth Court remained hidden for so long.
“What in the fates?” Kressa murmurs.
I swivel around and find Kressa staring up at the deck. Leaning over the edge is a figure cloaked in night, and as my eyes focus, I make out her red hair, the right side cropped close to her scalp.
Even the sea air is tainted with the faint smell of smoke.
She raises a palm, and a flame lights, casting her face in a glow.
Nicole.
Celia stiffens, weaving in front of Thea. “How is that possible?”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. Celia and Elayne have no idea fire runs through my veins, or that the Fire Court isn’t as extinct as we thought.
“What is she doing here?” I say, my hands balling into fists.
My fingers ache to be free of the rhodium gloves—to throw a wave at the side of the ship and knock Nicole into the depths.
But doubt creeps into the base of my neck.
If I have so little control over the fire power, who knows how uncontrollable the sea will be at my fingertips?
Kressa bares her teeth. “I have no idea.”
“What’s the matter, Kres? We’ve gone five years without a word. Don’t you want to catch up?” Nicole rolls the flame between her palms. She turns her attention to me and smiles—all teeth. “And I thought Briar could use a little more training.”
My crew mates stiffen, studying me, and a swallow works its way down my throat. Thea saw Kressa wield fire, but judging by the wide set of Elayne and Celia’s eyes, she hasn’t mentioned it to them.
They had no idea I could wield it, too. Until now.
Kressa curses under her breath and sidles the rowboat against the hull. She tosses Julian a line of threadbare rope, and he catches it with one hand, securing us to the ship. Kressa stands—the boat rocking under the sudden movement, but she steadies it and grabs the rope ladder.
She glances at my crew. “I trust you all can move your hands enough to climb a ladder?”
They nod, each standing one at a time and climbing up the rope until only Julian and I are left.
“I’m sure you have ulterior motives,” he whispers, nodding for me to stand up. “But just remember, if you or your crew mates try anything, I can smother your powers before they leave your hands. And if that doesn’t stop you, I’ll do anything to protect Kressa.”
I rise, looking at him down the bridge of my nose. “You know, Julian, I’m confused as to whose side you’re on.”
“Nothing to be confused about. I will always be on Kressa’s.”
Shadows shift across his face, and there’s an expression I can’t quite discern in his blue eyes.
“Noted,” I say as I grab the first rung of the ladder.
My fingers close around the rope, and I heave myself up—muscle memory taking over from the years I’ve spent sailing.
A breeze nudges me, swaying the rope below my footholds, but I set my attention on the railing above and throw myself over the side.
My boots hit the deck, and the boat rocks with a wave, throwing me off balance. As if by habit, Kressa wraps her hand around my arm and steadies me.
I inhale a sharp breath.
Where Kressa’s bare skin meets mine, warmth billows beneath my skin, crackling like embers. Our gazes meet, and time stretches out as her gaze lowers to my lips—her pupils blowing wide. My chest expands on an inhale, and her scent fills my lungs, spreading through my core.
Julian’s feet hit the deck.
Kressa drops her hand and steps back, leaning against the wooden railing as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. The warmth on my upper arm eases, but doesn’t disappear completely. I blink and study the knots in the wooden planks, doing my best to calm the racing of my heart.
I lift my gaze and lock eyes with Nicole.
Her face is set in stone, and a muscle feathers in her jaw. I meet her glare as something stirs in me—an unfamiliar, instinctual ache that gnaws at my bones, making me want to claim Kressa. To bare my teeth at Nicole and prove that Kressa is mine. As if she always has been.
A hand rests on my shoulder. “I’ll show you to your room.”
I blink, shaking my head as I break eye contact with Nicole.
Julian stands beside me, his brows pulled together. “Is everything okay?”
Swallowing a deep breath of air, I force a nod. Whatever that was—whatever just came over me, wasn’t me. It’s the way this bond has woven itself into my chest, turning me into a primal being. “I’m fine.”
Julian glances at Nicole and presses his lips into a thin line. “Come on.” He gestures to Thea, Elayne, and Celia. “You’ll all be below deck, but locked into different rooms. Kressa has agreed to let you join us, but that doesn’t mean she trusts you. You’re still prisoners.”
We don’t dare exchange nervous glances—each of us giving a blank nod as he leads us toward the stairs closer to the bow. But my mind races. Elayne and Thea are the only ones with an idea of the plan, but if Thea didn’t tell Celia, she’ll have no idea.
If I don’t tell her before it happens, she’ll never trust me.
I slow, letting Julian get a step ahead of me, and brush Celia’s wrist. It’s enough for her to stiffen, yet she shows no signs of the interaction as she spares a sideways glance at Julian.
We pass under the main mast, like a blanket thrown over the night sky, and Celia takes the moment to turn her attention skyward. “What an impressive vessel.”
“It’s been in the royal family for generations,” Julian says, running a finger over the carved wood.
Celia hums, then drops her gaze to me as Julian moves closer to the stairwell.
“Sometime in the morning,” I sign, my fingers a blur, “Isolde is going to arrive and break us out.”
There’s so much more I wish I could say. She, along with the others, deserve an explanation—to help me come up with a plan. But we don’t have the time for that.
“Do you have the compass?” she signs back.
My stomach bottoms out, my downturned eyes all the answer she needs. Her lips part, and if she wasn’t already questioning my ability to captain the crew, this seals it.
And how can I blame her?
In the days leading to my freedom, I was so focused on The Gales and helping Kressa that I forgot about arguably the most important thing.
Without my compass, we can’t find Delterran.
Julian clears his throat, and Celia fakes a sneeze into her elbow. I lower my gaze to the deck, should he try to read the panic brewing in my eyes. There’s only one place my compass can be—where I hid it for a decade.
In the vanity in Sarenia, tucked behind a pile of washrags.
My stomach clenches, but that’s a problem we’ll have to face after Isolde frees us. But until that happens, we need to get farther out into the ocean.
Julian stands at the top of the stairs, watching closely as Thea descends first—Celia and Elayne taking up the rear.
And as I lower onto the first step into the belly of the ship, I glance over my shoulder. To where Kressa is wrapping her arms around Nicole.
Something in my chest sputters, twisting—a painful, cleaving ache that spreads down my limbs.
Julian follows my line of sight. “It’s nothing, Briar.”
“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” I whisper, before I catch myself. The air feels thicker entering my lungs. Harder to breathe. “If we’re sleeping in cells below deck, where is she sleeping?”
“You aren’t sleeping in cells.”
I face him, the argument dead on my lips as I raise a brow.
He shifts on his feet. “She’s staying in Kressa’s quarters.”
A weight settles over my chest, and I dig my molars into the flesh of my cheek. “Take me to my room.”