Chapter 11
Draven and Silas stand at the edge of the damaged deck. The ship bobs beneath us, every groan of timber tolling like a warning bell as I wait for them to speak.
But they remain silent.
Every instinct screams that wherever we’re heading only spells danger. But my position as Rian’s captive means I have absolutely no say in the Fae’s plans.
Best to learn as much about my mysterious, ominous destination while I can.
Air floods my nostrils as I inhale. “So…what is this place? Where shadows aren’t welcome?”
Silas tugs on his damp shirt. “The closest landmass is the island of Virendrell.”
I gape, the word stealing my voice for a moment. Virendrell.
The land whispered about in stories—where Fae and humans are said to live side by side.
A place I didn't believe was real. Not until Rian told me that if humans were smart, we’d all be sailing for Virendrell’s shores to escape the monsters roaming the Forbidden Forest.
My mouth hangs open as I stare at Silas, waiting for him to correct himself. To say he’s joking.
But his features are resolute, distant. He looks out at the horizon, his mind somewhere else.
I turn to Draven. “I don’t understand.”
“What is there to understand?” he grunts.
“Virendrell…” I lick my lips. Bitter seawater stings my tongue. “You two make it sound dangerous.”
“Oh, it’s dangerous, all right. And teeming with self-righteous pricks. We have no business going there.”
He stomps away, joining Jaxon and Rian, who now stand beside an uncovered dinghy.
Shadows lift items from opened crates spread over the deck. Water skins, food rations, and sacks stuffed with Gods know what float over to the dinghy.
Silas shifts closer. A gust of wind slaps my soaked skirt around my legs. I tighten my hold on Draven’s cloak.
“Why aren’t Shadow Fae welcome in Virendrell?” I ask.
He sighs. “Astloria isn’t the only land our king has tried to conquer.”
I blink. That’s news to me.
“I take it the Shadow King didn’t succeed in conquering Virendrell?”
“No,” he says. “Thank The Mother.”
I search his face, eyebrows furrowed. “That…relieves you?”
His dark eyes dart to mine and then away. “It does.”
Huh… Interesting.
The shadows along Silas’s arms curl upward and encircle his neck. Their translucent color darkens.
“So…Shadow Fae aren’t welcome in Virendrell because of the king,” I murmur. “What will happen if you show up?”
He snorts. “Let’s just say Marek’s methods are not the sort an enemy will be inclined to forget. Or forgive. And Virendrell will not hesitate to hold the rest of us accountable for his actions.”
I press my lips together.
That sounds…ominous.
“Silas!” Draven shouts. “Get your shit. We leave within the hour.”
So soon?
I take in the gray sky, then the waves below. Bile rises in my throat at the thought of drawing closer to the dangerous water.
“Don’t worry,” Silas says. “Our shadows will steady the dinghies and keep the beasts at bay.”
Velmira, save me. I hope he’s telling the truth.
“How far is Virendrell?”
“Not far.” He gives me what’s meant to be a reassuring smile. “Why don’t you return to the cabin to clean up?”
“Is there time?” A glance confirms sailors are already shifting the small boat to the outer edge of the ship.
The dinghy hangs from ropes attached to two extended pulleys.
“Yes. Don’t worry. I’ll tell the others.”
I eye the male. Of all the Fae, I’ve interacted with Silas the least. Though, I can’t help but feel bonded by what we both endured at the hands of the Verdanthian soldiers in the dungeon.
“All right.” I dip my chin. “Thank you.”
I weave through the busy deck to the stairs, which are now clear of debris. The ship rocks to the side. Palms pressed to the walls of the corridor, I make my way to the captain’s cabin.
Another wave tips the ship. I stumble into the cabin’s doorframe, and the memory of Rian’s shout tears through my mind.
Don’t you fucking dare give up… Fight!
Legs shaking, I walk into the cabin and collapse onto the narrow bed. I stare at the empty space where Rian had slept and take deep breaths.
Rian spoke into my mind.
And he heard my replies.
Is that ability the same as Draven’s mindspeak? Or something else?
I don’t know.
I’ve never experienced Draven’s mindspeak.
But I can’t help but think whatever Rian did was different.
Hearing his voice weave into my panicked mind felt…intimate. Not perverse enough to be considered an invasion. Though, that should have been my reaction.
I definitely shouldn’t have felt reassured by his silent, yet echoing, voice. Or encouraged by his aggravated order to not give up—to fight the sea creature that dragged me into frigid, dark waters.
“Stay strong, Elara,” I murmur.
I can’t let my guard down around the Fae. No matter what happens.
With a shake of my head, I stand and move into the tiny bathing chamber attached to the cabin. I close and lock the door behind me then shimmy out of my soaked clothes. The fabric hits the floor with a plop.
A washcloth sits in the water basin on the counter. I grab it, then step into the tiny alcove that serves as a shower stall. There’s no running water, and the sound of the sea seeps through the gap along the bottom of the wall, serving as a drain.
Gooseflesh peppers my skin along with a shiver as I wipe off the salty water. An amber bar of soap sits on the corner of the counter. I reach out and bring it to my nose.
The spicy, woodsy scent fills my nostrils, and my heart flips.
Rian’s soap.
I bite my bottom lip.
Should I leave without washing?
I don’t know how long we will be on the dinghy. And once we reach Virendrell, the Gods only know how long it will be until I am able to find a bathing chamber.
Just do it.
I lather the soap in my hands and quickly wash and rinse my body, clearing away the enticing scent that does strange things to my pulse as soon as I can.
Once finished, I step out onto the warped floor and wrap a threadbare towel around my body before cracking the door open.
The cabin is empty.
I tiptoe across the space, quickly dry off, and then change into a fresh gown and skirt. I forgo undergarments. They’re all dirty, and I cringe at the thought of wearing them after I’ve washed.
Gathering my belongings, ensuring the Fae text and diary are wrapped in dry clothing and not in danger of slipping out of my bags, I return to the deck.
The sun breaks through the cloudy sky, and the waves have lessened their assault on the sides of the ship. I hold my soaked boots in my hands, opting to wear the dry flats Juniper had slipped into my pack, and approach the Fae gathered around the dinghies.
I step between Darius and Draven.
“—leave us to the mercy of the beasts below?” The ship’s captain narrows his beady eyes on the Shadow Prince.
I’d call the man brave, but I’m certain he doesn’t know who, exactly, he’s speaking with.
“One of us will return with a rescue party as soon as one can be secured,” Rian says. “You have my word.”
“Ack.” The old man turns and spits, the saliva stained brown from chewing tobacco. “Your word means nothing.”
A shadow slithers along Rian’s back. “What would reassure you?”
“One of you must remain behind with us.” The captain’s eyes slide to me and trail down the length of my body.
A block of ice settles in my gut.
Shadows pulse from more than one Fae around me.
“I’d be careful with your next words.” Rian’s tone is even, but the promise of violence laces each word.
The man doesn’t so much as flinch. “Those are my terms. A member of your traveling party must remain with the ship to guarantee you come back.”
“Out of the question. I need all of my men.”
“Well, then…” The captain's eyes, once again, move to me, and the corner of his lip quirks, revealing a tarnished silver tooth. “That just leaves—”
Darkness wraps around his throat and yanks the man off his feet.
Sailors cry out, moving to intervene. They collide with a wall of darkness that appears between us and them.
Draven and Darius step forward at the same time, shielding me and blocking my view.
I rise on my toes, gripping their shoulders for balance on the bobbing ship.
Shadows slink down Rian’s damp clothes as he shifts closer to the captain. The old man claws at his throat to no avail.
I blink and see Lev in the same position, desperate for air, eyes wide with fear.
A shaky breath rattles from my throat.
This isn’t Lev, I remind myself.
Still, the grisly sight makes my stomach churn.
Rian continues his approach and stops when only inches separate him from the man’s face.
“I told you to be careful with your words.”
The captain gurgles. Bulging eyes swing to me.
“Do. Not.” Darkness rises into the air, hovering over the entire ship. “Look. At. HER!”
Sailors continue to shout. Fear ripples over the deck, but my focus never leaves Rian. He’s turned away, yet I catch the hard line of his jaw. The glow edging his eyes.
His reaction seems excessive. His anger is too much.
I whisper to Draven, “Why can’t you just convince them to let us have the dinghies?”
The surly Fae grunts. “My power is finite and limited by distance. Once we leave, it will dissipate.”
“So? We’ll be long gone by then.”
“We can’t leave these men with the knowledge of our identities or location. Not unless we have a way to ensure their silence.”
Oh.
I press my lips together, and unease on behalf of the sailors courses through me.
While it’s a relief to know Draven’s mind-altering ability has limitations, it leaves us in a problematic situation. I don’t want to think about what the Fae might do to ensure the sailors keep quiet…
Rian tilts his chin and whispers something in the captain’s ear.
The old man sputters and shakes his head, still grappling for a hold on the intangible shadows choking him.
The sailors continue to yell, but none can bypass the wall separating them from their captain.
The Fae are powerful enough to just take the boats. The fact that they’re asking is noteworthy, but what happens if the sailors try to stop them?