Chapter Nine
He’s here.
Even as I smooth out the note on the desk before me in the captain’s quarters, still cluttered with Titus’s things—half-empty wells of ink; a torn, tea-stained map of the Cutthroat Coast; a spyglass; a lantern; a sextant; a tiny wood carving of a dragon; a few tarnished coins; a gold earring; and a small blue velvet box are among the disarray—I’m careful not to disturb his chaos, all untouched since the day Will, Titus, and I made plans to find Morana at Castle Grim.
A breeze drifts in through the open window, fluttering the parchment, but I snatch the velvet box and use it to weigh down the corner before the note is swept away.
I read the note over and over again, until the red ink seems to run down the paper like blood. As the sun begins to set, washing the contents of the desk in warm, golden light, my gaze drifts constantly to the velvet box.
A few times, I reach for it. Curl my fingers.
Drop my hand. I can’t—I won’t—invade Titus’s privacy.
These are his treasures—his life. And though I want nothing more than to peek inside every drawer, every chest, every little box, I can’t bring myself to do it.
If, once Titus is free of the compulsion, he wants to share his secrets with me, I want him to have the choice.
If he chooses not to let me into his world, then I’ll accept his decision without protest.
A knock at the door jars me out of my thoughts, and I quickly stuff the note into my pocket before Gabriel enters, his taciturn expression unreadable.
“We’re close,” he says, dipping his head to me. “Aster—” He pauses, his gaze sweeping the room, and I get the distinct impression he’s memorizing it—taking it all in, as if this were the last time he was ever going to see it.
I realize, with a pang in my chest, that we might not all return to the Starchaser.
“Yes?”
He scratches his jaw, flicking a glance at the velvet box before his eyes narrow on me. “We don’t need him,” he says. “It would be safer for everyone if Will remained in that brig.”
I shake my head. “He’s coming.”
“He’s in no state to travel—”
“He’ll be fine—”
“And what if he attacks someone—”
“I won’t let him—”
“You’ll be putting us all at risk—”
“I am your captain!” I stand, slamming my hand down on the desk, rattling the contents so fiercely a well of ink topples over the side, splattering black liquid all over my boots and spilling onto the floor.
Instantly, I regret my outburst, but my nerves seem to buzz with unchecked energy, my heart pounding painfully against my sternum.
Gabriel frowns, stepping forward, kneeling as if to retrieve the empty well of ink from the floor, but I hold out a hand to stop him.
“Leave it,” I say, my voice shaking, just as my hands now shake. “I’m sorry—I—I don’t know what’s come over me—”
Gabriel straightens, placing his hands on my shoulders, prompting me to look him in the eye.
I’m struck, as I often am, by the similarities between him and his brother—tanned olive skin, long dark eyelashes framing hazel eyes.
“We chose you to be our captain,” he says quietly, steadily.
“Not because you’re a princess—not because you’re the heir of Hildegarde—but because every member of this crew believes in your ability to see this mission through.
They believe in you, Aster. I believe in you. ”
“Why?” I whisper, my throat tight.
He squeezes my arms, his grip firm, yet gentle. “Because you never give up.” He adds, the ghost of a smirk touching his lips, “Even when you probably should.”
I didn’t realize how badly I needed to hear those words until he said them, and still…
would he be saying any of this—would they choose me again, if I were honest with them about the voice I heard the night I almost jumped ship?
And what if they knew about the way I almost lost control during battle?
They’re afraid of Will.… Would they fear me, too?
Gabriel releases me, crosses his arms over his broad chest, and gives me that familiar, no-nonsense look I’ve come to know so well. “If you truly think it wise to bring him along, I will do whatever I must to ensure your safety—even if it means choosing your life over his.”
The weight of his words settles uncomfortably in my gut, but I nod. “I can’t do this without him,” I admit quietly, my throat dry. “He has to come with us.”
Gabriel presses his lips in a thin line, a tiny crease forming between his brows, but he inclines his head. “As you wish.”
A sash of coral light streaks the hazy, twilight sky as the Starchaser nears the abandoned docks, and the crumbling manor house comes into view—right where Gabriel said it would be.
The fog that had sheltered us from sight clears as we drop anchor, but when I look up, attempting to spot the raven I suspected to be Owen, I see only the first stars twinkling awake overhead.
“I don’t like splitting up,” Charlie says, his expression pinched.
We stand side by side at the helm, watching as the rest of the crew moors the ship. Charlie, Lewis, Eliza, Rook, and Diana agreed to stay behind while the rest of us go ashore, much to my brothers’ discontent.
“We can’t bring Titus with us,” I say. “And we can’t leave the Starchaser unattended.”
“I know,” Charlie says. “But I still don’t like it.” He glances at me sidelong, his features softening. “What happens if you don’t find her?”
I rest my hands on the hilts of my daggers, clenching and unclenching my fists.
How do I tell him I’m more afraid of what happens if I do?
After everything that’s happened… I’ve been outsmarted at every turn.
Tricked. Manipulated. I set out to Castle Grim to find Morana, cure Will’s and my curse, and overthrow a kingdom—none of which I accomplished.
Instead, Morana found me, and by the time she made herself known, it was too late.
I was too late. And because I failed to see what was right in front of me, we lost Annie.
Now finding Morana—forcing her to take her corporeal form—means that Annie must die.
I can’t tell Charlie the truth—that I’m terrified of what awaits me in the Burning Lands. That I’m not sure I’m capable of doing what must be done. That I’m afraid I’ll fail them all again.
Instead, I straighten my spine, lift my chin, and say, “I’ll find her, Charlie. I have to.”
A shrill whistle causes us both to turn, and my heart leaps into my throat, making it difficult to breathe.
Below, Gabriel emerges onto the main deck, followed by Will, his wrists still bound in chains of Elysian Iron. Will looks worse than he did last night, his skin somehow paler, the shadows wreathing his eyes darker.
He refuses to meet my gaze as I make my way to him, Charlie close at my heels.
“Aster—” he starts, his voice rough—raw from all the screaming.
“Take them off,” I tell Gabriel, flicking a glance at Will’s binds.
Gabriel’s jaw tightens as he reaches, albeit slowly, for the keys dangling from his belt.
“My darling,” Will murmurs then, and when I look at him, he’s already staring at me, his gaze soft. “Perhaps it’s best we leave them on for now.”
I grit my teeth. “And what happens if we’re attacked? You won’t be able to defend yourself.”
Will huffs a laugh, his eyes dark. He flashes his teeth in a pained smile. “I think I’ll manage.”
A phantom ache lances across my throat, where Will’s teeth tore through my flesh. I ball my hands into fists at my sides. “Take them off,” I repeat. And then, holding Will’s gaze, I add, “I’m not afraid.”
Gabriel dips his head. “Aye.”
He removes the chains, tucking them inside his worn leather jacket, and Will rubs his sore wrists, holding them close to his chest.
There’s an uncomfortable stretch of silence before Eliza beckons Gabriel from across the ship. I turn to look at her over my shoulder, her arm looped through Lewis’s, and when I catch her eye, she winks at me.
Subtle, I mouth, my cheeks hot.
When I face Will once more, I find he’s taken a step closer to me, his gaze fixed on my neck.
His throat bobs as his eyes meet mine. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he says hoarsely. “Yet, from the moment we met, I feel that’s all I’ve done.”
I take in his face—the smattering of freckles that dust the bridge of his nose, his dry, cracked lips—searching for any trace of the boy I met when I first came to Bludgrave Manor.
But it’s as if he were a shell of his former self.
Hollow. Haunted. I touch his cheek, wincing at the sharpness of the bone protruding there, and when he closes his eyes, nuzzling into my palm, a tear slips out, rolling to meet the space where my thumb strokes his feverish skin.
“None of this is your fault,” I whisper.
He lifts his hand, clutching my fingers in his, and at his touch, warmth flows through my veins, easing the tension in my shoulders.
“I’m sorry—for everything. I should have tried harder—when we were at Castle Grim, I should have made it clear how I feel about you sooner.
” His chin wobbles, but his expression is determined.
“I’m going to fight for us. I’m going to make up for everything. You’ll see.”
I lean in, my breath catching at his words.
His words.
You deserve to be loved with actions, not just words, Eliza had said.
I want to believe Will. After all, he’s saying everything I’ve ever wanted to hear.
There was a time when I would have melted at the way he’s looking at me now, as if I were made of starlight.
The words my darling alone would have made my heart leap—my darling, as if I belonged to him.
As if I could find a home in him—not a ship, not a place, but in his heart.
Somewhere I could be safe. Somewhere I could feel whole.
I can’t help but wonder if there’s something wrong with me—if it’s my fault the butterflies in my stomach no longer stir at his promises. Perhaps when we’re both free of our curses, I’ll feel different. Perhaps he’ll be different.
“Well, pirate?” Henry’s voice must startle Will, because he lets go of my hand, putting distance between us once more. But Henry doesn’t seem to notice as he throws his arm over my shoulder. “Ready to save the world?”
I elbow him in the ribs, and he groans, but he pulls me closer still, a grin revealing dimples in either cheek—dimples that make him look even more like Will.
I fish the compass out of my pocket, flip open the lid, and watch as the arrow spins wildly before pointing west—toward the abandoned estate.
Toward Havok, Morana’s kingdom in the Burning Lands.
I glance at Will and find him eyeing the compass with his familiar, calculating stare.
“Ready?” I ask him.
He looks up at me, and I think, for a moment, I see a twinkle of amusement in his green eyes. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”