Chapter 19 Toran
Toran
The water sent a wave of shock through Toran’s body.
It was like the first time Loriana kissed him.
He’d been trying to find ways to kiss her for weeks. But if there was anything Loriana was adept at, it was evasion. He’d never seen someone duck so many ways. It became a game for them.
In the end, she won. Catching him before he’d realized how close she was, her hands on his shoulders and her lips pressed to his.
The touch had made his whole body freeze, every nerve centered around their connection.
The shock had been so great it had taken him several seconds before he let the kiss take him away.
It was exactly how he felt falling into the ocean. He was submerged before he knew what had happened, the cold a strike that hardened his body. It took a few seconds for him to find his bearings.
He and Genna broke the surface at the same time. The sight of her sputtering, of her slim hand wiping water out of her eyes, made him freeze all over again.
Shit. Nes. Where was Nes?
He’d promised her. Toran dove under.
The salt stung his eyes, but he blinked it back, swiveling around in search of her.
He found her, only a couple strokes away, her eyes squeezed shut.
She’d sunk deeper than either him or Genna.
The skirt she wore billowed around her waist, her exposed legs pale against the backdrop of the dark water.
The braid he’d wound floated beside her, a snake coiled for attack.
But it was her hands that made him pause.
They clutched her ears, fingers curled over the tops as if she were trying to pull them from her head. As if clapping her palms over her ears wasn’t enough—as if she couldn’t stand whatever she heard.
Toran heard nothing but silence.
He swam for her. He reached a hand toward her and felt the current working against him. With barely any water between his fingers and the crook of her elbow, Nes opened her mouth. A full circle, it filled instantly with water. And then she screamed.
She screamed and it was like the current heeded her call, strengthening with every bit of soundless agony she exhaled. He grabbed her around the middle before he lost his chance and kicked them both upward.
They broke through the surface. Nes’s cry hit air, and he nearly dropped her back beneath the water, her screech clawing at him. Were he not using both arms to keep them afloat, he might have slapped his hands over his own ears.
But once she sucked in a breath, the scream cut off. Nes spit mouthfuls of ocean, coughing and sputtering.
In his periphery, he could see Genna had managed to climb back into the rowboat and was beckoning them toward her, but his attention was on Nes.
She’d finally opened her eyes, blinking rapidly as if trying to clear nightmares from her head. Perhaps she was. Perhaps that was what she saw, what she felt, underwater. All her nightmares come true.
She stopped blinking, her eyes honing in on him. The arm she had wrapped around his neck tightened. “You kept your promise.”
He didn’t break her gaze, trying not to focus on the way her fingers smoothed the small hairs at the nape of his neck. “You didn’t make it easy.”
“I tried to warn you.”
He laughed. “You did no such thing.”
She grinned back. “You’re right. That doesn’t sound like me at all. I prefer an element of surprise.”
A small wave rolled into them, and she leaned closer. Strands of her hair were plastered to her forehead. A forehead close enough he could have bumped it with his nose. Even like this, soaking and nearly drowned, she was wild—wild and still beautiful.
Another wave rolled, this one bigger, and broke against Nes’s back. She let loose a small cry, her arms tightening around him. He kicked his legs hard to keep them afloat.
“We didn’t come out here for a swim!” Genna yelled.
“Yeah,” he called back. “Coming.”
“Wait,” Nes said, her voice small.
“What is it?”
“There’s something you should know. I—” She hesitated.
He tipped his head down, creating a space just for them. So close the cool breeze of the ocean couldn’t slip between them. Her breath was hot against his lips. Her face splashed with dots of the sea but her lips clear of water and salt. He wondered what those lips would taste like.
There had to be something wrong with him. He’d just been reminiscing about his first kiss with Loriana and now he wanted to kiss Nes. Guilt crept in, but it felt about as steady as their rowboat.
“I can smell magic on Genna,” Nes said. “I think she might be consuming it.”
That wasn’t what he’d expected her to say.
He glanced back over his shoulder at the awaiting rowboat and the guard inside.
He wanted to trust Nes, but he wanted to trust Genna, too.
He didn’t want to believe Nes’s words. Consuming magic was a surefire way to be discharged from the King’s Guard.
A surefire way to get yourself accused as the Witch.
And, if true, he didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from looking at her a little differently for it.
“Let’s get back to shore,” he said to Nes.
She nodded and bit her lip. “I just—” She blew out a breath, staring at him. Her eyes were the same color as the sea. But where the sea was cold, her eyes were warm. “Thank you.”
He swallowed hard, their proximity teasing, testing him. Thoughts of the curves of her body, of her lips on his, slowly gnawed away at his guilt. It was still there, still waiting to pounce should he put certain thoughts into action, but he felt his desire gaining strength.
Nes had nearly drowned, and he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her. He hadn’t believed it possible for him to want something like that—want someone like that—after Loriana. But here was Nes, holding fast to his body and his mind.
Toran forced himself to remember the water, to feel the cold and the strength of the current and not the warmth of her body against his. He kicked them back toward the boat.
It was a struggle getting into the rowboat. Once Nes tumbled in, he waited a minute for the boat to settle before hopping in himself. Behind Genna, Nes sat with her back ramrod straight. He could see the way her thumb tapped nervously on the tips of her fingers, as if playing a frantic refrain.
Genna glanced at Nes but quickly turned to face him again. “Can I take us back now?”
Toran nodded. “Please.”
He twisted in his seat to look at the rock and the foreign language scored in stone. His own thoughts whispered to him, trying to pull him in. For something nagged at him—suspicion with no grounds laced his mind as they rowed back.
He shivered, but across the boat, Nes didn’t move. She barely blinked. Whatever thoughts were running through her mind, they stole her away from this moment.
His own were distracted, too, thinking of Loriana—of his love for her and of the awakening feelings he’d thought were gone forever.
The side of the rowboat bumped the planks of the dock, waking him from his spiral.
Quint was waiting for him. His lieutenant’s face betrayed nothing. He was as stoic as ever, but Toran knew whatever news Quint had wasn’t good.
Before Genna could reach a hand out to steady them, Nes was out of the boat, her feet slapping wood as she practically ran from them.
Signaling to Quint to wait, Toran hopped out and made to go after her. He caught up easily, keeping his grasp light when he reached for her wrist. She didn’t yank away from him.
“What happened out there?”
She laughed. Once and hard like the sharp clang of an anvil. “You mean other than the fact that you lied about the boat?”
He rubbed one side of his jaw. “You’re the one who tipped us.”
She gritted her teeth. “You lied.”
“Fine. I lied.” He dropped her wrist. “The boat was unstable. It’s a freakin’ rowboat, Nes. Of course it’s unstable.” Her eyes slashed through him, stripping him bare. He shivered against the sudden exposure. He couldn’t keep the annoyance from his tone as he asked, “What?”
“You tried hunting the Witch once before, didn’t you?”
“Yes, in Aeos.” He thought back to the King’s request to bring the Witch in alive this time, and his gut twisted.
“And how did that go? Did you find her? Did you manage to drown the Witch in a country that praises her like she’s the Goddess herself?”
He kept his mouth shut. Everyone knew how well his mission in Aeos had gone.
“No. Because you had no idea what you were doing then, and you don’t now.”
She turned her back to him, every shift of muscle signaling this was the end of their conversation, but he couldn’t let her have the last word. Not after what had just happened.
“You know,” he said, “I’m not the only one lying here.”
She pivoted. “You think so? Tell me, Captain, what exactly have I lied about?”
He lowered his voice to make sure neither Genna nor Quint heard. “The symbols.”
She blinked at him. The only sign he’d caught her off guard.
“If I ask, will you answer me honestly?”
He glanced down at her hand, at her fidgeting fingers. Her eyes followed his gaze, and her fingers stopped moving.
She crossed her arms over her chest, guarded once more. “Why don’t you ask and find out?”
“Can you read them?”
Her lips quirked, just a slight tug, before she said, “No.”
And somehow, he knew she was telling the truth. He moved toward the end of the dock, where Quint waited for him.
“But they feel familiar.”
He stopped, twisting back to stare at her. Confusion raked a cool talon down the center of her forehead.
“Like I’ve seen them somewhere before,” she said, “but can’t figure out where.”
He gave her a small nod and an even smaller smile. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”
She shoved him playfully. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” he said. Because he had to say it. Say it and have her confirm it. Because he didn’t think he could take it if she hated him. “If you did, you wouldn’t have pulled me out of that brawlhouse pit.”
“You still say it like you’re constipated.”
He chuckled. “All those doughnuts will do that to you.”