Chapter 41
I startle awake when I hear a few thumps and clatters and sit up in bed.
Everything appears normal in the room, yet I feel a sense of foreboding come over me…like something bad is going to happen. Perhaps the feeling is warranted. The Shallows aren’t too far away, and there are unspeakable horrors on that island that await us.
The sun filters through the gaps in the green curtains, highlighting Thane’s empty half of the bed. I run a hand over the spot where he slept, and it’s cool to the touch. A lump forms in my throat as a whisper of insecurity flares through me.
Where did he go? Does he regret what we did last night?
I suppose the bigger question is why am I not regretting it? Sex with an assassin? I could be hanged for treason if the wrong person were to find out what he is and our connection.
The thumping and clattering happens again in the hallway, along with the sound of someone humming. I climb out of bed and take a peek out the door to see Irina across the hall, cleaning one of the rooms.
I shut the door again. Roosters crow in the distance, but the inn is mostly quiet and calm. I grab my rucksack to find clothes, give myself a quick wash before getting dressed, and then loosen my braids.
The lobby is vacant when I enter. A station in the corner is set up with a teapot along with porcelain mugs and cubes of sugar. The tea calls to me, steam blooming from the pot’s spout, but I leave it be and march toward the exit to look for Thane.
The sun drowns me in its bold, warm light when I step outside.
The salty air is humid and thick. Fortunately, the occasional breeze helps counteract the heat.
With one hand on my hip and the other above my brows to block the beaming rays, I search the busy streets for any sign of my crew.
I don’t see Thane anywhere, but I can hear Algar’s voice.
And it doesn’t sound like it’s coming from the street.
I follow his voice around the side of the inn, which leads to a field of manicured grass and a grove of trees with low-hanging white wisteria.
In the distance, I spot Algar slashing a dagger in the air, while Thane stands a few feet away with his arms folded, seemingly unimpressed by Algar’s performance.
I feel more relief seeing Thane than I should. I don’t know why I ever thought he ran away or bailed on me.
“And then you give it a quick twist like that,” I hear Algar say as I approach. “Deep in the right of their gut, just like that, yeah? Twist it hard—left then right—and they’re as good as dead. Trust me.”
“You have terrible form.” Thane’s sword is resting on the grass, and he kicks it up with the tip of his boot.
His back is to me, so he doesn’t notice me coming.
Behind Algar is a wooden post several feet taller than both of them.
It connects a clothing line to another post on the opposite end of the lawn.
Without warning, Thane swings his blade above Algar’s head and cuts through the post. Algar ducks so low he ends up falling on his butt. The post tilts sideways before slamming to the ground. It’s a relief there aren’t any clothes or sheets hanging on the line.
“A heads-up would’ve been nice!” Algar shouts. “You could’ve chopped off my damn head.”
Thane inspects his sword. “Perhaps that was the goal.”
Hovering nearby, Zephra blows a small spout of fire at Thane. As if he expects it, he throws up a hand and creates an invisible shield to deflect it.
“Nice try, Zephra.” Thane eyes her as she chitters like she always does when she’s upset. It’s almost like she’s ranting.
I laugh. One thing’s for sure: no matter how much you coddle or feed Zephra, she will never be okay with you harming Algar.
“You training or what?” Rynthea’s voice surprises me as she hoofs past with her scythesword.
That’s when Thane becomes aware of my presence. He turns a fraction, looking at me from head to toe. I try not to make a fool of myself as I follow Rynthea.
“Have a good rest, sleeping princess?” Algar asks, standing again.
“It was okay,” I answer, avoiding Thane’s eyes.
“The darkling didn’t snore too loudly, did he?” Algar nudges Thane in the ribs.
“No. He was actually really quiet. Slept like a baby, which was a bit strange, considering how destructive he is.”
Algar snickers.
“Have any of you seen or heard from Enver?” I inquire.
“Nope.” Rynthea sways her blade to create infinity loops. “No sign of him yet.”
I shift uneasily. “You think we should find another way to the island?”
“If we don’t hear from him within the next few hours, we’re leaving,” Thane declares. “We can put all our coin together and pay someone to let us borrow their boat.”
“It can’t just be any kind of boat.” Rynthea drops the scythesword on its head, planting it into the ground and leaning on the handle. “There are sea monsters of all kinds out there. And don’t even get me started on the zerenias.”
My eyes round. “You think those are real?”
“I know they are,” she says. “My father used to be a fisherman before he opened Kamtaur. Said he saw a man walk the plank and jump straight into the ocean because he took the cotton out of his ears. The zerenias pulled him under, and he was never seen again.”
“Horse shit,” Algar spits. “There’s no way they’re real! Sea creatures who eat men and steal their identities just to walk the lands? That’s a ridiculous tale! I should know. My father was a terribly underpaid assistant to a sea biologist. He told me all the stories about them weren’t true.”
“Well, maybe he didn’t go far enough,” Rynthea says. “You try riding the deep seas without cotton in your ears and tell me how ridiculous it is when they try to eat you.”
Algar snorts. Rynthea simply rolls her eyes at him before turning her attention to me. “Do you have that dagger on you?”
“No.” I point over my shoulder at the inn. “It’s in my rucksack.”
“Get it. Someone around here has to show you how to use it.” She turns to stare Thane down. He must feel her heated gaze because he stops his practice to glare right back at her with a set jaw.
I jog off to get the dagger before they can start tearing into each other like always.
When I return, Rynthea leads the way to the other side of the field, putting some distance between us and the men. Placing her scythesword against a nearby boulder, she reaches for the handle of a dagger on her waist and grips it in hand.
“Show me your best defensive stance,” she instructs.
I grip the handle of my dagger and set my feet apart so they’re square with my shoulders. Then I bend my knees, sinking into a squat.
Rynthea suppresses a laugh as she watches me lift the dagger overhead. “Have you ever actually fought with a weapon before?”
“Is it that obvious?” I lower the dagger, and my shoulders follow in defeat. “I didn’t grow up needing to constantly defend myself like the rest of you. Please don’t make fun of me, Rynthea.”
She throws up an innocent hand. “I’m not making fun,” she says quickly, now bottling a laugh.
I narrow my eyes, trying to fight a smile, too. “But you want to.”
“I mean a little—but only because that stance was the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“See!”
“But you should consider yourself lucky that you were able to hold on to your innocence,” she adds. “I started training during my third year.”
“Your third? Seriously?”
“Oh yeah. My father wanted me to know how to protect myself and Torjack, especially when Torjack got his diagnosis.” She looks toward the horizon, lost in thought. “My mother wasn’t fond of the idea of me holding knives and daggers at such a young age, but I loved it.”
“I can imagine.” I laugh. “Violence wasn’t really a thing in Ember Coast. My parents didn’t really know much about sword fighting, either. My father was a doctor and my mother a nurse. They taught me more about resuscitating and healing people than ripping them apart.”
“Hmm.” Rynthea gives that some thought. “Well, some of us are meant to hurt people while others are meant to mend them.” She shrugs. “Plus, had they not taught you those skills, you wouldn’t have been able to save my life in that swamp.”
She gives me a warm smile.
I return it.
“All right, first we need to adjust your posture and the way you handle the dagger.” Rynthea adjusts my arm so that it stays close to my body.
Then she uses one of her hooves to push my feet apart and widen my stance—my right foot forward and left back as the anchor.
“There are many ways you can use a dagger, but one of my favorites is like this…” She takes a generous step away from me and lunges with the blade.
She jabs it forward, her arm protruding from her body quickly yet fiercely.
“And if someone is coming at you from the side, you can do this.” She flips the hilt backward, so the tip of the blade faces the other way.
With a rapid jerk of her hand, she stabs at the air. “Now you try.”
I attempt to imitate her demonstration but come a little too close to her arm. She steps out of the way just in time and cocks an eyebrow.
“Sorry.” I laugh nervously.
“No worries. Just try again.”
I give it another go, making sure not to get too close to her this time as I stab at the air.
“Better,” she commends. “You learn quickly.”
“Thanks. I’ve always been a pretty fast learner. It helps to adapt to my surroundings, you know?”
“I know what you mean.”
“It was always easier for my sister to adapt.” I give the dagger another slash through the air.
“Is she the social type?”
“Very.”
Rynthea smiles at me, nodding. “You’re doing something selfless for your sister, Zaira.
” She grabs my forearm and tilts my elbow so it’s locked in the proper position.
Then she tells me to tighten my grip on the hilt.
“I don’t know any mortal who would risk their lives doing what you’re doing.
Most would’ve sat around whimpering and waiting for the person they love to die. ”
“I can’t let her die.” I meet her honey-colored eyes. “You still think it’s extreme of me? Going to The Shallows and all?”
“Oh, one hundred percent.” She laughs. “But I get it. I would do anything for Tor. No matter what we are—mortal, beastial, sorcerer, minotaur—we want the best for our family. Even if it means risking our lives, it’s better to take the chance than to do nothing at all.”
“Agreed.”
“But I have to ask you, Zaira…” She pauses and squints as wisps of sunlight beam down on her. “You’re an incredibly smart person. Do you think it’s wise to be sleeping with a man like Thane?”
My heart drops. “W-what—”
“I can hear things from very far away. When you’re in an inn as quiet as this one”—she gestures behind me—“it’s kind of hard to ignore certain sounds.”
My face burns, and I drop my eyes, too embarrassed to look at her now. “I…don’t know what to say.”
“Fortunately for you, I have the ability to shut noise out, too,” she says. “As soon as I heard you two start, I tuned it out.”
“Well, thank you for that, but that doesn’t make this conversation any less awkward,” I return with an equally awkward laugh.
“I own an inn. I’ve heard way worse.” She pauses, contemplatively pressing her lips together. “But can I be honest with you?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t see whatever this is between you and that sorcerer ending well.”
I look at Thane, who is practicing with his swords. He has a sword in each hand, swinging them with perfect balance and precision. He performs moves with them that I’m certain not many people in Thelanor could do. The blades catch in the sunlight as he jabs, slices, and swings at the air.
“There’s nothing to worry about.” I face Rynthea again. “Our emotions aren’t involved.”
She raises a brow as she picks up her scythesword. “You sure?”
“Yes.” My response is firm, but the word hurts my heart as it leaves me, like something is trying to puncture it. “I’m sure.”
“Zaira.” Thane’s voice rises up behind me.
I twist around, worried that he may have overheard me. But I quickly realize that he’s not alone.
Standing a few steps away from him is Enver, who says, “Captain Solyen just docked.”