Chapter 7
When Audra was little, the ocean tried to drag her down to its dark depths.
One moment, she was jumping over the waves, laughing when the glacial water kissed the fringe of her dress, and the next, a rogue current wrapped icy fingers around her ankles and pulled.
The water crashed over her head, more and more, as she struggled, but her small, chubby arms were no match for the might of the sea.
She cried for her mother, her small lungs feeling like they would burst.
The light of the sun faded from view as she lost consciousness.
That’s how she felt now, like she couldn’t pull in breath.
Like she was drowning again.
Though as she looked around, it was disbelief that stole her breath away. She sat up slowly, nausea coursing through her gut, and a migraine pulsed behind her eyes. She was in a small room by herself, her hands numb from how tightly a rope bound her wrists.
The floor beneath her rocked back and forth.
Anyone raised in the harbor had salt water in place of blood and knew what this meant: she was in a small boat, small enough that she could hear the steady beat of the buoys against wooden posts—still docked, then.
She cocked her head, focusing on the far-off, heartbreaking cry of a gold-feathered gull.
The bird was prominent in this cove and nowhere else.
These were its only nesting and hunting grounds in all of Khaveah.
She couldn’t be sure how long had passed since she was knocked unconscious …
but she was sure that she was still in Salt Hollow.
She should fight now—try to break free of her bonds and escape.
She knew these docks better than any of the fae. This harbor was her playground. She’d cut her teeth on the seashells from this bay, learned to toddle barefoot on this shore, and had her first kiss on these very docks. She could slip the dagger from her boot, cut her bonds, and flee the boat.
There were sea caves so deep she would never be found.
She could hide in one, wait until nightfall, and make her escape to the closest village.
If the fae weren’t already there, she could warn the villagers.
The king had sold his citizens for gold; he’d bent a knee to the fae, allowed them to terrorize and abduct his citizens.
He could’ve at least had the decency to warn the people he was supposed to protect.
Audra would be a hero.
But she remembered her father; heard the sound of his pained gasp over and over within her mind, though she tried to stop it.
She knew with certainty that even if she lived to be one hundred, the sound of her father being bludgeoned would be forever seared into her memory.
Her father, whose blood had dripped onto her face and in her hair.
Even now, she could taste the metallic tang on her lips.
The bread she’d eaten earlier threatened to come up.
If Audra escaped … if she ran to warn the nearby towns … they would hurt him even worse—though this time, they would hurt Emyre as well. She wilted onto the floor, letting the anguish envelope her—until the steady rocking motion of the boat lulled her into a fitful sleep.
She dreamed of revenge.
The room was pitch black when a door finally opened, and the veiled female stepped inside.
Audra sat up, trying to scoot back, but she didn’t have far to go; she was being held in a small storage space.
The strange female shushed her as though she were not a kidnapped victim, but simply a frightened mare trying to avoid its bit.
The priestess sang in a hushed tone, though Audra couldn’t discern what she said, and placed a wooden cup of water up to her lips. Despite her fear and the fact that she would rather spit in this priestess’s face … she was so damned thirsty. Reluctantly, Audra sipped the water.
It wasn’t until the cup was drained that Audra sensed the oily, bitter coating upon her tongue. This wasn’t solely water.
“What the f—”
The world faded before the priestess was even out the door.