Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
Kane ached for dry clothes, a real meal, and the burn of a campfire on his face.
He didn’t spend the past month in a prison cell for respite.
He could feel Erinna’s tension as she followed him to the large central hearth where his cook, Rem, dished out his latest concoction.
Hiring the man was one of the best partnerships he had made in years.
Asher and Lila would take care of Inez—make sure she felt welcome and, most importantly, safe.
His crew was smart enough to appreciate the utility of having a diviner on board.
Once Inez learned that the crew of the Hellish Rebuke was much better for her life than those Everdawn snakes, Kane would have the power of a diviner at his fingertips. Even one reading would be enough.
It was loud and raucous around the courtyard as his crew members played cards, fought with each other, or both. Others worked diligently around the base, and a few had left for their shift on the Hellish Rebuke.
His vessel was able to sail but needed some work after the last voyage. Not even his ship made it through Talon Bay unscathed.
Activity quieted as Kane approached, but he knew it was due to the stranger he brought behind him. Conversations coalesced to dull murmurs in an effort to keep a stranger’s ear out of private chatter.
Even Rem’s smile dropped as they approached. Erinna would have a harder time winning over the crew than she’d had winning him over, but Kane was certain they’d come around eventually. The real concern was whether she would warm up to them.
He spared a glance at her over his shoulder, fighting back a bemused smile. Knotted, damp locks of hair clung to her face and back, and fire burned in those storm-blue eyes as she took in the scene before them. He knew that look well—she was ready for a fight.
Part of him wanted to see her lose that careful control, to watch her unleash whatever simmered beneath her skin.
The other part wanted to keep needling her, to see how far he could push before she snapped at him with that sharp tongue of hers. Both options had their appeal.
“Try not to do anything reckless. I’d hate to have to rescue you. Again,” he called back, unable to resist.
The glare she shot him could have melted steel, and his grin widened. “That’s rich coming from you, Captain Pull-the-Lever-and-Hope-We-Don’t-Drown.”
Kane laughed and saw Erinna’s lips turn slightly upward. Yes, the crew would warm up to her soon enough—especially once they realized how useful she could be. He’d already seen glimpses of it, even if she was too stubborn to show her full hand yet.
Memories of their previous voyage came unbidden to his mind. Kane couldn’t deny her skill on a ship. He saw how deftly she moved across the deck and manned the sails, and how quickly she acted when Asher needed help.
He remembered her willfulness in the caverns below, the bite in her tongue, that laugh when they made it through Talon Bay—
“Nice to have you back, Cap’n,” Rem greeted, interrupting Kane from his straying thoughts. The young Aramoorian man beamed up at him. Dark brown eyes caught the light of his hearth, and his dark curls were pulled back in an expert bun.
Kane couldn’t help but smile in return as he grabbed a chipped piece of pottery that had been repurposed as a plate.
“Nice to be back, Rem.” Kane clasped the young man’s forearm in greeting. It was more than nice to be free of that cage and back with his crew once more. He had finally returned home.
Erinna grabbed a makeshift plate; her fingers twitched in anxiety, her movements jerky and unsure. His crew was prickly, sure, but she moved like someone who suspected death around every corner. Like she was surprised they would care enough to feed her.
An unpleasantness formed in Kane’s chest. A tightness that could easily render itself to anger. Not at her. At whatever situation made her think she was undeserving of food. He tried to shake it away but ended up with a bitter taste in the back of his throat.
“You’ll be safe here,” Kane murmured beneath his breath, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I promise.”
She softened slightly—enough to put Kane at ease that she believed him. Good.
More people lined up behind them, ready to take seconds or thirds, but left a respectable distance from Kane and his new companion.
Dinner was a meal of fresh-caught fish, steamed seaweed, and what looked like barley in a thick Aramoorian-inspired sauce. Kane made a note to check their stock of food and spices.
Rem was a fine cook, but he wasn’t known to use resources sparingly. He added it to his growing list of responsibilities now that he was back with his crew.
Kane plodded toward the old guard station near the fort’s crumbling entryway.
He ushered her inside the small space that would barely fit three people comfortably. Kane eyed the apprentice’s progress. He’d left Afton in charge of setting it up in his absence.
A small wobbly table and some stools were placed in the center. Rusted candleholders with tallow candles were placed haphazardly on sinking shelves. With a flick of his wrist, Kane brought the wicks to life.
“Sit, eat, but stay here while I grab you some fresh clothes.” He saw her tense even more, like a bird watching through the bars that surrounded her. Kane let out a haggard sigh.
“You’re not trapped here,” he promised, plopped his own tray down on the table, and turned to leave and retrieve the items. With his remaining energy, Kane willed the shadows to bend and bring him to the small stone hut he’d claimed on the island weeks before his capture.
Arcanum thrummed against his skin as his body embraced the numb darkness.
His Grace—his ability to manipulate arcanum was fine-tuned to fire. He could produce and use flames with magnificent force, but what made him unique among the mages and weavers of the Great North was his ability to move through the liminal dark.
The skill could only take him short distances and required much more energy to transport himself to a place he knew but couldn’t see. It was still better than walking.
Shadows delivered him to the room. He would be spent for the rest of the night. This kind of travel ate the rest of his magical reserves, but his body was tired. It would be morning soon, and he would kill an army for at least an hour of sleep on something better than a rotting prison cot.
Kane peeled the wet clothes from his body, taking a moment to inspect the healing bruises and cuts on his arms and chest. Some would heal overnight, and the worst had scabbed over.
He would have a few more faint scars on his body from the tools that cut too deep.
He healed faster than most, but that didn’t make him impervious to sharp objects.
Clothes, food, then I’m sending her off to fend for herself, he thought, trying to convince himself that he wanted nothing more than to keep his distance from her.
He found what he needed quickly—a spare set that would fit her well enough.
By the time he returned to the small hut, Erinna had devoured most of her meal and was eyeing his plate suspiciously. Kane tossed her the outfit and took a quick survey of the room.
She had been careful to cover her tracks, but he could find the signs of snooping better than most. A smile threatened to part his lips, and he was grateful that Afton had at least locked and secured the most important items. Erinna wasn’t a threat, for the most part, but Kane didn’t like sharing his plans and movements with strangers.
“You have two minutes,” he stated and left once more to allow her privacy.
Kane heard her muffled, indignant grumbles as she changed.
They were likely colorful insults and threats that, on a better day—on a day when he had more rest and wasn’t acutely aware of her changing just beyond the door—he’d enjoy hearing.
He chuckled despite his best efforts.
A sudden stumble, followed by the sharp thud of a foot connecting with the table leg. “Gods dammit!” Erinna’s curse rang through the wood.
“You all right in there?” He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
“Never better,” came the tart reply, though he could hear her moving more carefully now.
Kane dragged a hand over his face, trying to ignore the mental image of her hopping on one foot, half-dressed and scowling.
He redirected his thoughts with effort. She would need to find a way to get along with his crew. If not, he could already feel the growing headache. The stubborn, sharp-tongued woman added another item to his ever-growing list of complications.
Once she was settled, he’d seek a report from Afton. Then Brax. No, maybe Brax before Afton, he thought, assessing his current tolerance for pain-in-the-ass mages.
“I’m done,” came Erinna’s muffled response.
When Kane entered, she was seated at the table, trying to comb through impossible knots in her dark hair. Dark brown waves cascaded over her shoulder as she worked the comb.
The borrowed shirt hung loose on her lean frame, tucked into her trousers, which rested flush against the curves of her hips and thighs. Kane ripped his trailing gaze back to her face.
He was glad to see that she had stopped shivering. A faint hint of pink had made its way to her cheeks, color returning beneath the constellation of freckles scattered across her nose and cheekbones.
When she glanced up, momentarily giving up on a particularly stubborn tangle, her eyes caught in the lamplight—gray flecked with darker blue, like the calm sky just before a storm.
Erinna cleared her throat. “You should eat before it gets cold.”