Chapter Thirty-Three
The sun is shining when we reach the Red Island.
I stand at the helm, watching as the others deploy the gangplank, but I can’t seem to move.
For so long, Owen and I dreamed of this place—dreamed of the life we could have here.
It’s more beautiful than I ever imagined it would be.
Bright, colorful birds soar above the lush green jungles of Ember, and along the beach, the people gather, waiting to welcome us home.
But it all feels wrong. Warped, like a dream twisting into a nightmare.
I thought, after we found the cure, everything would be different. I thought, maybe, we could be safe here. But we’re not safe. Because he knows where we are—Will knows where we are. That voice that comes from somewhere deep within my chest whispers, He’s coming. And I know I can’t stay long.
No, Will is after me. The bounty is on my head. And if he’s followed us…
“So this is it.”
Titus’s voice pulls me from my spiraling thoughts. I turn to find him already standing by my side, silhouetted by glittering sapphire waters as far as the eye can see.
He looks past me, a smile touching his lips. I follow his gaze to the island—to the Palace of Pearls, the wooden fortress built into the boughs of an ancient tree near the shoreline. “I never thought I’d get the chance to see it for myself.”
My heart sinks. How could I forget? All this time, Titus was never allowed to know the location of the island—never allowed to see it for himself.
But this place—these people—they belong to Captain Shade more than they’ve ever belonged to me.
He fought for them. Risked his life for them every time he put on the mask.
“Will you show it to me?” he asks, his voice soft as he offers me his hand.
My breath catches. I meet his gaze, as blue as my beloved ocean, and it’s as if something tugs at my chest, drawing me closer to him, urging me to take his hand.
Maybe we’re doomed. Maybe the True King’s plans for our lives never intersect. Maybe we’re fools for wanting. We may never have more time together. But we have today.
And so, I let myself take his hand, let my fingers twine with his, and we disembark the Starchaser together.
We’ve just stepped off the gangplank and onto the docks when Orella throws her arms around me, the scent of toasted coconuts and baked vanilla encapsulating me in warm, sun-soaked arms. I drop Titus’s hand only to return Orella’s fierce embrace.
But when she draws back, and Titus twines his fingers with mine, a small, triumphant smile twitches her lips.
“I see you decided to take your own advice,” she says, flicking a glance at our clasped hands.
My heart skips a beat, and I almost expect Titus to pull away.
But he squeezes my hand, flashing her a charming grin. “Your Majesty,” he drawls, bowing low.
When his head dips, Orella’s brows lift as she shoots me a look that screams, Wow.
On any other day, I might blush. But I barely manage a weak smile, and Orella’s face falls.
She brushes a strand of hair from my face, pats my cheek with her dainty, calloused hand. “Umiko sent word ahead,” she says, almost reluctantly.
I don’t even have a moment to process what she’s said—what it means—when I see Mother and Father racing down the docks. My heart leaps into my throat, my head spinning.
They know. They know about Elsie.
I brace myself, my jaw set.
But they’re not running toward me.
Mother’s steps stutter a few paces before she reaches Owen, and I think she might drop to her knees as she sways. But Father never slows down. He nearly tackles Owen, throwing his arms around him in a forceful embrace.
“My son!” Father laughs. Weeps. Kisses the top of Owen’s head. “You’re home—my son—”
Mother staggers toward him. She touches Owen’s face, tears streaming down her cheeks. I don’t hear what she says, but a moment later, a violent sob bursts from Owen’s chest.
My feet move before I realize I’ve taken a step.
“You should join them,” Titus murmurs, his grip on my hand loosening.
But I shake my head. “I’ll just get in the way.”
I face Orella again, watching me with a sad sort of smile.
“Follow me,” she says, already starting down the docks, toward the Pearl. “We’ve had a room prepared for you, Your Majesty,” she adds, winking at Titus over her shoulder.
I don’t let go of Titus’s hand. Not when we approach the doors of the Pearl. Not even as we’re led up the stairs, down various hallways, and across multiple bridges of the palace.
Every few minutes, I’m reminded that he’s experiencing all this for the first time.
I watch as he tips his head back, inhaling the sweet aroma of grilled pineapple, his eyes drifting shut, and I can’t help but wish we could stay.
I want to explore the city of Ember with him—want to watch the sunset on the beach, want to listen to the lullaby of the waves as the tide laps at the shore. I just… want.
Him. This. More time.
It’s as if Orella knows where my thoughts have gone. “How soon are you leaving?” she asks, a crease forming between her brows.
I let out a long, arduous exhale. “We’re staying only long enough to restock our supplies.”
She nods slowly, her mouth taut, but she doesn’t argue—doesn’t try to persuade us to prolong our visit. Finally, she stops in front of the door to my chambers.
“You should get cleaned up,” she says, cutting her eyes at Titus’s hand.
But Titus doesn’t let go. And neither do I.
“Don’t worry,” Orella says with a wry grin, looping her arm through Titus’s. “I’ll make sure he finds his way back to you.”
Titus chuckles, and as his hand slips from mine, as they round the corner, I think I hear him say, “Nothing could stop me from finding my way back to her.”
I rest my hand on the doorframe, tracing the grooves of the weathered wood—wood that was salvaged from my grandfather’s ship, the Sunseeker.
When I open the door, Bellaflor is there, sitting in the chair by the window with Killian’s bloodhound, Dinah, curled up at her feet.
Dinah’s tail wags as Bellaflor stands, drawing me into a hug that says more than words ever could. “Bath,” she orders, and I don’t protest.
After weeks spent at sea, I would do anything for a hot bath.
I sink into the warm water, my skin buzzing as my power washes over me like a gentle wave. It feels like hours go by before I rise from the bath and dress in the linen shirt and loose, flowing trousers Bellaflor left for me. I’ve just pulled on my boots when there’s a knock at the door.
“May I come in?” Father’s voice.
“Yes.” I barely get the word out, already moving toward the door.
I’ve managed to hold it together in front of my siblings, but I fall apart in my father’s arms.
“You found it,” he says, half-laughing, half-crying. “I knew you could do it.”
I sob, my chest aching. “But—she’s gone. Elsie—”
“What happened to Elsie is not your fault,” Father insists, holding me tighter. There’s something in his voice—something between guilt and regret—and I wonder what he lost on his search for the Relics. Wonder if he somehow blames himself for Elsie’s disappearance.
When I’ve no more tears left to cry, I draw back. “Where’s Mother?” I ask, looking over his shoulder to see if she’s come to greet me, but the doorway is empty.
“She’s waiting for us on the beach,” he says. “Sunset dinner in honor of the Starchaser’s return. It’s somewhat of a tradition. That is, when people aren’t sneaking off to commandeer ships and set sail for the Burning Lands.” He quirks a brow at me.
I huff, my stomach twisting. “So she’s still mad at me?”
He chuckles, but his brow furrows. “If she’s mad at you, she’s furious with me.”
My eyes narrow, my mouth working on a question I’m not sure how to form.
His lips curve, a sly smirk that reminds me so much of Owen, his kind eyes twinkling with mischief. “Did you really think Orella took that compass from me and I didn’t know?”
Sand shifts underfoot as I make my way to the long wooden table, overflowing with a feast fit for royalty—skewers of pork, baskets of fresh fruit, plates stacked high with cheese and loaves of steaming bread.
Father and I are the last to arrive. Lady Isabelle waves at me from her seat between Annie and Henry, her weary eyes brightening just a little.
Beside them, Orella murmurs something in Killian’s ear, and it could be the dusty-pink light of the setting sun, but I think I see him blush.
My siblings have already begun loading their plates, along with Eliza, Rook, Gabriel, and Diana, their faces fresh, hair still damp.
And there, seated at the head, Owen smiles despite his swollen, puffy eyes, already regaling Orella with a lively tale from our time at sea.
Albert leaps from his chair and into my arms before anyone else notices my arrival.
I start to crouch, but he’s grown, even in the short amount of time I’ve been away.
Still, he looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes, his bottom lip trembling.
“I’m coming with you to get her back,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I won’t be left behind again.”
The conversation lulls at Albert’s statement, and Owen glances our way, his lips turned down in a tight frown. My gaze drifts to the empty chair to the right of Mother, at the old cloth-covered book of Myths propped against the backing, and tears prick my eyes.
A place for Elsie.
I pull Albert closer, holding on to him the way I couldn’t hold on to her.
“No one’s leaving anyone behind,” I say, my voice thick.
Albert sniffs, nodding. “Promise?”
My mouth works. I can’t make that promise. After everything that’s happened, I don’t want my siblings anywhere near me when I find the two remaining Relics—if I find them. Thankfully, before I can answer, Owen calls for Albert, and our little brother’s attention snaps to him like a whip.