Chapter 12
We’re pulled farther across Dolven Bay, leaving Hamelyn’s nibbled river behind us. The land wraps around the water in a crescent, like the sea thrust out its thumb and dug a notch into the earth, letting the water pour into the bowl.
The walled city of Hamelyn stares at our backs, higher than the rest of the landscape, with a rocky mountain behind it and impassable rocks on its side that are splotched with stains of Poison. I always imagined what it would be like to leave, to follow the water until I reached somewhere new.
But we aren’t heading for the open sea.
Instead, we’re only going to the other side of the bay, to the black sand of Tillver Shore, where dockmasters usually work day and night to navigate small sailboats or chained ferries across the shallow water, dispersing trade and travelers.
I’ve never been outside Hamelyn’s gates until now. The most I’ve ever seen of this place was from the rooftops on the rare times I snuck up to look at the sky. I’ve always wanted to be out here, and yet now that I am, all I want to do is turn back.
My gaze locks on to the sign that’s pinned to the shore. Even from this distance, I can see the bright red paint scrawled on the plank with hurried lettering.
I watch the dead Rats pockmarking the water, their wet fur glinting in the daylight as they bob. There are no other boats in the bay, no people hurrying along the shoreside docks. Just chained ferries abandoned on the shore like reeds floating on the surface.
My judgment of time turns lopsided as we continue forward. The people in the row ahead of me sway with the movement of the ferry dragging through the waves.
Until the Piper’s music suddenly stops.
I jolt, licking my dried lips, feeling like a towel wrung out. I was bulging with the saturating magic, and now, I’m sopped up but brittle.
Everyone else snaps to attention too, heads turning, voices murmuring.
We’re in the middle of the bay now, but I can’t swim.
If I jumped off, I’d sink down until my lungs filled.
But I don’t even have the chance to consider trying it anyway, because the Core fae come down the rows, handing out waterskins.
“Pass them down!” the bald-headed one barks, and my tongue laps with thirst as he gets to me and shoves the leather into my hands.
I fumble, so desperate that I nearly drop it.
But with clawed hands, I jam it into my mouth and guzzle the water down until my belly goes bloated and the person next to me reaches over and snags it.
“Sorry,” I croak.
She gives me a dark look but then ignores me as she drinks. I lick at the drops on my lips, longing for more, when a shadow drapes over me.
I jerk my head up and see the Piper. My heart skips a beat, mouth going dry despite just having quenched my thirst.
“You’re bleeding,” he says, and the timbre of his tone is sharp enough that I feel the sting. His gaze shifts around, and when his attention drifts to my back, I feel myself stiffen. “You were whipped?”
I stare at him.
“I asked you a question, fiend.”
“Yeah, by a patrolman named Klaus,” I mutter. “I was also kidnapped. Seems I’m not having the best day.”
Why did I say that?
His hand moves, and I flinch back instantly, bracing for a hit against my smart mouth. When it doesn’t come, I look up and see his expression has gone hard.
He holds his hand out to me, fingers flicking with impatience. “Come.”
My eyes go wide, but the rest of me is frozen in place.
Irritation flashes over his face, and instead of waiting for me to take his hand, he grips my arm and hauls me up. I stumble behind him as he drags me up the ferry, and for a second, I wonder if he’s going to toss me overboard.
Instead, he stops at the front bench and glares down at a fae man sitting there. “Move.”
The man blanches and then leaps to his feet, hurrying to find another seat.
The Piper’s fingers dig into my arm. “Sit.”
His command isn’t necessary since he shoves me down onto the open space of the bench.
Letting go of me, he looks up and then calls out, “Lacera.”
The female Core fae from his group strides over, and I notice she has a slight limp before she stops at his side. Her brown hair is in a braid and hangs out from the bottom of the blue veillet that’s secured over her head.
“Yes?” she asks expectantly.
“She’s bleeding.”
Lacera looks at me, and her speckled stars appear at the center of her nose, lighting up her olive-toned skin all the way to her pointed chin.
Wanderer. Romantic. Bold in the face of opposition.
Let’s hope she doesn’t consider me as the opposition.
“We can’t have her bleeding out,” he tells her.
She leans in to take a closer look at my back with a considering hum. “Looks like it’s starting to clot. Should be fine until we get back.”
His jaw clamps. “I don’t want her slowing us down. She can’t even breathe without grimacing, and she smells tainted.”
“I smell tainted?” I blurt, unsure whether I should feel more startled or offended.
He ignores me, but Lacera leans in and sniffs at my back. I see her nose wrinkle as she pulls away. “Yeah. Her blood is a bit rancid,” she agrees, her matter-of-fact tone at odds with my appalled surprise.
“What does that mean?” I ask.
Her hazel eyes flick to me. “Whatever sliced into you was probably poisoned with something, or unclean . . . or both.”
My stomach drops.
So now, on top of everything else, I have to worry about a poisoned whip.
Wonderful.
“Just take care of it, please,” the Piper says before striding away.
When he leaves, I slump slightly in relief, but I really should know better. Because without warning, the Core woman yanks out a long, thick, and very sharp-looking wooden needle from her belt and stabs it into my back.
A shriek flings out of me, and I lurch forward, but she’s already pulling the needle away, the tip of it stained with my blood.
The fiend woman sitting beside me scoots down, as if worried she might be next.
“Why did you do that?” I gasp out.
Lacera straightens up and tucks the slivered weapon into a hole notched through her belt. She has several. I don’t know what kind of person needs to carry around that many wooden needles, but I think it says something about her.
“I’m the Needle,” she answers blithely. “You’re welcome.”
I open my mouth, wondering why in the world she thinks I’d thank her for stabbing me, but as she walks away, I feel it.
Numbness.
It starts to spread across my back in a blanket of rippling waves. The pain that was radiating through me from my skin to my muscles just . . . vanishes.
A shaky breath of shock expels past my lips.
Lifting my hand, I carefully feel my back to check if she just healed me, but no. The wounds are still there. She just took away the pain with her magic.
I’m not so bothered that she stabbed me anymore.
Someone shouts then, and I glance up at the sound of a sudden splash. Surprised voices strew through the stolen as we all rise to our feet and look over the side of the ferry. There’s a fiend man who jumped overboard, and he’s frantically trying to swim away.
“Frid?”
The Piper doesn’t yell, but his voice still makes me flinch.
The strong Core fae operating the winch sighs. “Yeah, yeah.”
He drops hold of the wheel and strides up the side. The fiend must not have realized how hard it would be to swim with all those Rats, because he’s struggling, unable to get anywhere.
Frid leans over the side and simply plucks the man up and dumps him back onto the ferry without effort.
He just lifted a man twice his size.
A woman uses the distraction to run past, like she’s going to try to jump too, but Frid leaps in front of her, pointing a finger in her fear-paled face.
“Don’t even try it. Because if I have to actually jump in that water to get you, I will not be pleased,” he threatens.
“And you don’t want to see me not pleased. ”
The woman shakes before slumping in defeat.
Frid turns and walks back to the winch, taking over the job of propelling us forward again as if nothing happened. The ferry jolts, and the Piper stalks over to the woman. She’s still standing there, staring at the riddled sea, tears falling from her haunted eyes.
“Go back to your seat,” he commands.
But she stays frozen, a warring expression on her face.
The Piper leans in with menace, his voice dragging to gravel. “Go sit down, or I’ll make you.”
His dark threat spurs something inside me, and I find myself hurrying over to her before my mind can stop me. I slide between her and the Piper, giving him my back.
“Come on,” I say gently as I guide her away.
She starts to sob great heaving breaths. I put my arm around her and pull her forward, feeling the Piper’s gaze searing into me. Unable to stop myself, I look over my shoulder at him. His eyes burn against my face with such ruthless ferocity that I yank my gaze away again, unable to withstand it.
The woman looks fragile and bereft as I lead her to the bench. It makes my heart hurt for her. Makes me wonder what she left behind.
Before I can help her sit down, she glances up at me and notices my horns. That’s all it takes for her to stiffen and yank out of my hold. “Don’t touch me, fiend!”
Her sobs become violent then, as if I did something horrible to her by trying to help. I stand stock-still, shame crawling over me, while tension seems to split through the group. Someone else—another fae woman—jumps up and takes her, patting her back and murmuring as she’s led away from me.
My gaze flicks up to the Piper again. This time, his eyes seem to glitter, perhaps mockingly for the way I was just rejected. I force my expression to harden. My back might be numbed, but my hate isn’t. It pulses in tune with my jagged heart, wanting to beat against him.
“Esti.”
The word is whispered through teeth, and I turn around, before my eyes go wide.
My mind startles at who I find standing in front of me. “Theo?”
His smile is shaky. “Hi.”
A sense of relief swarms me, and as if the past several months never happened, I lurch forward and hug him, feeling my back tug. “You’re here too?”
He stiffens slightly, his arms hanging awkwardly at his sides. As soon as I realize what I’ve done, I instantly pull away, my cheeks burning.
I clutch my hands together, fingers wringing. “Sorry,” I mumble. “I was just—surprised to see a familiar face.”
“Sit down.”
We both jump at the Piper’s sudden bark, and my bottom hits the bench. Theo sits next to me, shooting the Piper a nervous look. My heartbeat wobbles with the punch of the glare he’s sending our way, but I do my best to ignore it.
Beside me, Theo hunches, as if trying to hide from the Core fae glowering at us. Looking him over more closely, I realize I’ve never seen him so rumpled. His hair is messy, clothes wrinkled. But at least his back isn’t flayed open.
He clears his throat, his voice dropping low. “Kaetir is here too.”
My brows lift in surprise. “He is?” I pivot my head, but I don’t spot him.
“Yeah,” he answers, sounding defeated. “A group of us were holed up inside my father’s shop, but the music drew the two of us out. We didn’t know what was going on.” He lets out a puff of breath. “At least he didn’t get Gisela, thank the Fates.”
His relief is so genuine that a tightness travels up my throat.
“Yes. Fates blessed,” I repeat flatly.
I didn’t do a very good job of veiling my bitter thoughts, because his burgundy eyes skate over my face and red creeps up his neck. “I’m sorry he got you, though,” he adds, but it’s a rushed afterthought and we both know it.
I should’ve heeded the stars that appeared when we first met, because they’d tried to warn me about him.
Prefers swimming in shallow waters. Friendly. Fickle.
I was too naive to realize that it wasn’t about actual swimming.
“I’m sorry he got you too.”
That’s all I can manage to say, and then the two of us fall into silence. I listen to the sound of the Rats knocking against the hull as we cut through the dead-dotted bay. Listen to Frid pull us toward the shore one link of chain at a time.
As my eyes stay trained ahead on the watery graveyard, it doesn’t escape me that I also sit beside something else that’s died.
The comfort Theo used to give me.
Because even with him here, I feel more alone than ever.