Chapter 19
There were no docks on Neris Island.
The ship lowered its anchor into the waves, the links of its chain clattering against its iron hook loud enough to hear on shore. A dinghy followed over the side. Uniformed men scaled down the ladders, dark spiders in a narrow line.
I stood, watching as the dinghy approached. The odd sensation of feeling underdressed struck me as they rowed to shore. Calderians wore cotton fabrics that covered their arms and legs, and though I’d always been comfortable in my soft bark wrappings, I suddenly felt the need to cross my arms and curl my shoulders forward.
They climbed out one at a time, wearing clothes unlike any I’d ever seen. Cobalt pants and coats with too many buttons to count, sewn in strict double lines from waist to breast. The sailors formed a severe line, halting sharply, faces unsmiling as they stood at attention, their hands resting on their sword pommels.
Two of them held the dinghy still as Kye swung his leg over the side, dropping into the sand. He’d already changed into clothes the shade of night, his face clean shaven. My heart pounded all the way up my throat as he crossed the sand, stopping just before he reached me.
“Hello again,” he said, the words as hard as stone. His eyes traveled over my face with apathetic interest, his mouth twitching in something like triumph.
My legs wobbled, icy panic rising in my throat. The softness in his gaze as he’d kissed my hand an hour ago had been replaced with something else entirely, and my body suddenly screamed for me to run. I braced my feet to flee, and he snatched my arm before I could, dragging me into him.
His hands were cold from the sea air, his eyes hard and unfeeling. Even his minty smell had been replaced with the pollution of a ship’s scent, smokey and virulent. Pain lanced down my elbow, still sore from the pop I’d felt the day before, but I twisted anyway, my feet churning in the sand as I tried to shake his grasp.
“Let go,” I ordered.
Kye smiled, pulling his knife from his belt. He shoved the tip under my chin, and I went still, neck stretching away from the blade. A wave of adrenaline crashed through me, but I’d gone paralyzed with fear and blind confusion.
“Kye,” I said, but his smile only deepened as he stared into my eyes.
Behind him, a man strode onto the sand, careful to avoid touching the water. He might have been my father’s age, and just as tall, though any similarity they shared ended there. He was slender, his back straight as a rod, and he narrowed his eyes as his gaze roved the island, the corner of his lips curled in vague distaste.
He didn’t look like a ship’s captain—though it was clear, as he crossed his arms behind his back and gazed down his nose at the sandy shore, that he held some position of authority.
His eyes landed on mine with cool superiority, like I should thank him for being so gracious as to step onto my island.
A cold prickle ran between my shoulder blades, and I wondered if Nori was watching.
“It’s not her,” the man said, coming to stand beside Kye. His eyes cut mine like daggers, his cheeks hollow, his skin dull. It looked like any moisture in his body had evaporated long ago. “But she’ll work. Give the order.”
“Maren of Leihani,” Kye said, pausing for me to affirm my identity.
Chin over his knife, I glared at him.
“In the name of His Majesty, King Emilius Laurier of Calder, you are hereby under arrest for the crime of Witchcraft. You are to be taken into custody, effective immediately.”
My jaw hardened, my nails biting into the muscles of his forearm, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.
“Evidence for your crimes has been counted and recorded by multiple witnesses from the island Leihani and myself. You’re accused of the seduction and kidnapping of at least six Calderian sailors, and the murder of the islander Naheso.”
My lips peeled from my teeth, anger trickling into the basin of my body.
“You snake,” I whispered.
Kye’s mouth twitched. “You are to be detained by His Majesty’s Royal Navy and placed in the prisoner stockade of the Aspire to await a trial and verdict, either by His Majesty or one of his appointed judges.” His grip tightened on my arm, and in a single thrust he threw me to the line of sailors. I hit the warm sand face-first, spitting it out of my mouth as I rolled to face him.
He stared me down, unbothered by the hatred in my eyes. “Seize her,” he said as though he were commanding the navy sailors to tidy a mess from the floor, already turning to leave.
The row of men drew their swords as they descended upon me. A gray-eyed sailor twisted my arms together, binding my wrists with tight rope. I stood bent forward, my hair a snarl of wind and sand and curls, and when they wrenched me upright, I flung away, shouting across the beach at Kye. “I’m not a witch!”
A hand resting on the side of the dinghy, he met my stare. “If you can lead sailors to the place where you hid Naheso’s body, or the bodies of the missing sailors, your sentence may be lessened. Are you able to do so?”
Fire leapt into my chest, the taste of poison sweet and raw in my throat as I narrowed my eyes at him. Anger shook me from the inside out, spilling out through my pores and radiating down every tendon, every stretch of muscle and sinew. Thunder clashed in my head as my pulse shattered my eardrums.
“You hid his body,” I spat. “You lying, deceitful, coward of a man—” I was cut off as they lurched forward, forcing my feet into the waves.
Inside the dinghy, a small man in round spectacles glanced out from over the edge of an unrolled scroll.
Kye smirked as they hauled me past him, my arm brushing the back of his hand. I flinched away, my stomach roiling at the thought of his touch, but he gripped my chin, forcing my eyes into his as his smile widened.
“I told you that you were coming with me.”