Chapter 30
Reva
“Ithought we were trying not to draw attention to ourselves,” I mutter as five of us disembark the ship, dark hoods pulled over our faces.
“We are,” Finch replies as he strides to the front of our little group.
“Then why are we all dressed like we’re monks?” I glance past the gaping material of my hood toward Frannie as she shoots me a sideways grin before disappearing inside her own cloak.
“No one ever questions the monks. Their eyes skim right over them for fear they might get drawn into their prayer circle.”
“He’s right,” Frannie adds. “Finch and I stick out more than the rest of you. But whoever heard of a pair of monks having non-monk friends. That would be ridiculous.”
I’ve a feeling she’s taking the piss, but I can no longer see her face so it’s hard to tell.
“Exactly. And if anyone looks at us too hard, just start praying loudly and gesturing at them to get closer. They’ll scarper as quick as you like.”
Aster snorts beside me while Torin lets out a low chuckle. “Know that from experience do you, Cap?”
“It’s a disguise I’ve tried a time or two.”
“Kinky fucker,” Torin mutters, just loud enough for me to hear.
“Now that we’ve all debated our clothing choices, something we really should have done before stepping on land—” Finch says. “Let’s find my brother and Jack.”
That’s step one of his grand plan. What comes after that is still a bit of a mystery.
The pulsing bond in my chest is tugging me forward deeper into the city, toward the East. That’s where Kit is. It’s more difficult for me to make out Jack’s location, considering how dimmed the bond with him feels. He’s here too, but I can’t understand why the two of them aren’t together.
“They’re here.” Kit’s voice fills my head right as I’m struck with a feeling of pure relief and... a confusing mix of emotions I can’t quite put together.
The docks are heaving with people. There’s a chaos of movement and sounds in all directions with people hauling barrels and boxes around and hailing each other, but they give us a wide berth. Torin also keeps me tucked against him, acting as an invisible flesh barrier between me and the crowd.
Maybe the outfits were a good idea. You never know with Finch. It’s just as likely that he thought they’d be useful as he found it funny for us all to look like idiots like this.
“We head east,” I say. “He doesn’t feel far away at all.”
We follow a wide road that’s lined with squat grey buildings with windows that mirror the grey, cloud-filled sky.
Around the docks, the buildings are all businesses relating to the shipyard, joiners and accountants, with tatty and faded signage.
But beyond the docks, the buildings grow taller and more austere.
They have long grey columns and sets of windows that are tall and narrow.
The wide road is lit with purple light, leaving an eerie glow despite it still being afternoon.
It’s my first time here in the capital. Mostly because I considered it to be tempting fate or travelling too close to the sun to come here.
“It’s very grey, isn’t it?”
“Soul sucking,” Finch replies. “You think they’d liven the place up a bit, wouldn’t you? A few pops of colour here and there wouldn’t go amiss.”
“Makes you depressed just looking at it,” Torin adds.
“Just breathing the air is making me miserable.” That’s Frannie’s contribution, and I give them both a nudge in the ribs at their teasing.
We’re at the bottom of a steep incline and right at the top is a grand granite building with dozens of narrow windows and yet more columns.
The roof is domed and jade green, tipped with gold, and there are a ridiculous number of burgundy flags flying from the top.
It’s even more imposing than the rest of the buildings on the same road, which is saying something.
“The bastard king’s palace.”
Even from here, I can see there are guards dotted right the way across the front of the palace, along with a couple peering down from the roof.
“I’m guessing the heavy guard presence means King Wildrake is in residence, then?”
“I’d assume so, love.”
We travel along the main street and I discover Finch is entirely right that people avoid us. Despite the bustling streets, there’s a ring of space around us like they’re all afraid to get too close and be judged unworthy.
Or perhaps they simply don’t want to step too close to the cloaked weirdos.
Within half an hour, we’re in a much less salubrious neighbourhood. Passing by the street sellers who don’t seem to have any qualms about hailing a bunch of hooded monks.
We reach a cramped, slightly lopsided building, and there’s a zing of sensation in my chest. A rightness.
He’s here, Noush whispers. As if I didn’t know that already from the sheer joy she’s pumping out.
Then Kit’s face appears through the crack in the door, and he flings the door open. His face breaks into a wide smile, gesturing for us to come inside the little house with a sweeping look up and down the street. He then firmly but quietly shuts the door behind us with a click.
As soon as we’re inside, I’m in his arms. He holds me firmly to his chest, and I suck in the scent of him. There’s a surface scent of laundry soap that doesn't smell quite right. But underneath that, there’s the faintest hint of fragrant black tea. A scent that’s undeniably Kit and undeniably mine.
“You’re here. You came. I knew you would,” he murmurs into my hair, pressing kisses to my temples before tipping my chin up with his index finger and finishing with a long, lingering kiss to my lips.
“Are you all right?”
“I am now that you’re here,” he murmurs before pulling back. “Right. What’s the plan then?”
Finch is leaning casually on the door, his eyes focused on something to the right. “Who are you?”
I twist around in Kit’s arms in time to see a teenage boy drop onto his bum in the middle of the stairs. He gapes down at us, and Frannie gives him a little wave as she removes her hood.
“This is Amble. His family has kindly allowed me to stay at their house while I’ve been stuck here,” Kit replies, with a clear warning in his tone. “He also happens to be a big fan of yours. So be nice.”
“Finch has fans?” Torin mutters, loud enough to make the teenage boy jump.
“You all do,” Kit replies. “It seems like the crew has made quite a name for themselves among certain communities in Ashwick.”
The teenager then thunders down the stairs and heads to the kitchen, where he starts pulling out a haphazard collection of mugs and glasses.
Kit glances over at him, keeping his voice low as he fills us in. “Apparently, there are rumours going around the beast-borne community. They say that Finch is going to come here and free them all from their shitty situations. They say he’s going to behead the king and ride off on a dragon.”
“Clearly they’ve been reading my dream diary,” Finch quips.
“How did you get here?” Torin asks. “And where’s Jack hiding? You can’t tell me you’ve both been infringing on these people’s hospitality for the past few days?”
“Jack’s not here.” For some reason, Kit looks between me and Torin with a look of pure devastation on his face, and my gut twists. “I’m sorry. But Jack’s the reason I ended up here in the city. We can’t trust him.”
Torin
“NO. IT CAN’T BE.” MY voice barely sounds like me, like my abomination is trying to make himself known.
My spine tingles and I fight to regulate my breathing to push him back. Not the time. Not the place. I’ll certainly skewer someone accidentally if my spines decide to make an appearance.
I don’t understand.
How can he be the one who betrayed us?
Jack. The guy who’s always smiling, always with an annoying quip.
The guy who’s more likely to laugh things off than ever to argue, who fed me as a scruffy street urchin child, and who looked for me when I wound up inside the labs.
The man who stepped into the pits of the abyss to get me back and fought his way through with a smile on his face.
“He didn’t,” I mutter. “Jack’s loyal. We both knew we were as good as dead if anyone found out about the mutiny. Finch saved both our skins, and neither of us ever forgot that.”
But Kit’s here, shaking his head at me. His eyes are soft, his expression far too gentle.
I can’t handle it. Something dark inside me makes me want to tear that look right off his face.
The room’s far too small for the five of us, plus the nervous-looking teenager who’s hovering in the kitchen. A flush of uncomfortable heat rolls through me and I suck in a shallow breath. It feels like I can’t get enough air in my lungs.
“Easy now.” That’s the captain, his face looking the opposite of Kit’s. He’s closed off. Cold. All hints of the whimsical, loopy Finch have been wiped away.
This is a man who’d sign your execution order without a single reservation. Not if he thought you’d screwed over his people.
“I saw him, Tor,” Kit tells me, his voice still far too gentle for me to handle. “He was here. In a house with his brother and...” His eyes dart to Reva and to Aster before grimacing in apology. “He was also with the sorceress, Araminta Stone.”
“Do we have to keep using her full name every time we say it?” Finch mutters. At Kit’s raised eyebrow look, he shrugs. “What? It makes her sound important. More important than she deserves.”
“I tried to speak to him,” Kit continues as though his brother hadn’t spoken.
“I hung around trying to catch him for ages and then I finally did manage to get him alone.” He clears his throat.
“He said he brought me here because he thought I knew too much. He said that both his brother and the sorceress had visited the island. They’d been regularly fucking with my head so I didn’t know what was going on or which way was up. ”
“Fuck.”
“And Jack knew the whole time?” Reva asks.
A surge of guilt goes through me. I haven’t even looked at her since Kit’s revelation, and I can’t imagine how she must be feeling right now.