Chapter Twenty
The carriage rolled on through the night, the soldiers’ torches casting long shadows between the trees. Every rut in the road sent a jolt through the carriage, hard enough to rattle my teeth.
Jina had fallen asleep against Ranis’s shoulder. He snored softly, undisturbed. Minha’s head drooped against the carriage wall. I wished I could sleep. My thoughts wouldn’t quiet.
I looked up through the small window at the stars scattered thick across the dark sky.
They reminded me of the night on Theron’s ship, all of us around the barrel, Fraya snorting, the ale burning my throat as we toasted my name.
It was the first time I had laughed since I had left Jeju. I’d almost forgotten about Barron.
I missed Fraya. I wondered where Theron was now. What the queen had ordered him to do. Look for more creatures, likely.
When the lead soldier called a halt, we climbed out into the dark. The soldiers laid out bedrolls near the tree line. Someone had already built a fire at the center. Another soldier handed us blankets—rough wool, better than nothing.
We spread ours on the ground, the three of us huddling together the way we always had every night in the cavern. Jina between Minha and me, while Ranis leaned against a tree trunk.
Some things didn’t change, no matter where you ended up.
I shifted onto my back and looked up at the stars through the canopy, just as I was about to fall asleep—somewhere in the trees something called low and soft—a single note, then silence, then the same note again.
Nam had drawn land creatures in the dirt once, everything she could recall, and made their sounds to go with them. I’d never seen an owl before, but I recognized the same hoot.
A light flickered between the trees. Not a torch. Had I imagined it? I pushed up onto my elbows. The green light flickered in the dark, drifting between the trunks, then stopped. A figure stepped out, as if to let me see them clearly.
A woman, wrapped in a dark cloak, silver hair loose around her shoulders. She stood at the edge of the camp and looked directly not at the soldiers dozing by the fire, but at me.
“Star.” Her soft voice drifted to me on the wind. “Come.”
She didn’t have a menacing voice. But I stiffened anyway.
I didn’t move. No way would I go to a stranger. I was new to this world. The queen had magic and this woman obviously had the same. Her voice hadn’t come from the tree line. It had come from inside my head.
That alone should have kept me still. Whoever she was, she’d already crossed a line the queen hadn’t—slipping into my mind without asking. That wasn’t friendship. That was power, wielded without permission.
“I won’t hurt you, child. Nam is my friend.”
The name hit me like home.
Nam, who raised me in that cave. Nam, who never explained what I was.
If this woman knew her—really knew her, not just a name overheard somewhere—then she might know things Nam never told me.
Still. Minha slept three feet away. Jina and Ranis beside her.
If this was a trap, I wouldn’t just be risking myself.
But… if she was truly the person she said, then perhaps I should hear what she wanted. I rose carefully, stepping over Minha’s outstretched legs, my hand brushing the hilt of the dagger beneath my suit to confirm its position.
Just in case.
The nearest soldier stirred. “Where are you going?”
“I need to relieve myself.” I didn’t wait for his answer and moved toward the direction of the woman, who hid behind tall shrubs.
The woman waited until I reached her. Up close she was older than I’d first thought. Deep lines carved around her eyes and mouth. Her eyes were pale, almost colorless, and they moved over my face the way Nira’s had in that dressing room.
“You’re smaller than I expected,” she said. Not unkind. Just honest.
I crossed my arms, hand still within reach of the hilt. “Who are you?”
“Sable.” She tilted her head. “And you are the one the ocean is looking for.”
“The king of Jeju sent you?”
Those pale eyes turned to gray, then back again. “The king thinks he sent me. There’s a difference.”
She reached into the folds of her wrap and produced a small dark glass vial, no longer than my finger, filled with dark liquid.
“He wants me to finish a formula. This formula not only will it weaken you, but it will also strip your healing, your instinct in battle, and your connection to the sea. He’s been threatening to burn my forest if I don’t deliver.”
“And have you? Delivered?”
“I’ve delivered progress reports.” The corner of her mouth moved. “He’s a king. He hears what he wants to hear.”
“Why expose yourself to me?” I stared at the vial still in her hand. “Why help us?”
“Like I said, Nam is my friend.” She shoved the vial into my hand. “Take it. This is poison for the king. One drop in his drink will end his life.” She closed my fingers around it.
I blinked. “Why give this to me?”
“Because I was there when they cleansed the waters.” Sorrow etched into her features, her voice cracking. “I was a child, but I remember what the sea looked like after.” Her jaw tightened. “I’ve been waiting a long time for the right Seaborn to pass through my forest.”
I studied her face, the vial warm against my palm.
“Nam.” The name caught in my throat. “Is she—”
“She is there by choice.” Sable’s voice softened.
“Nam is an alchemist, same as me. Power gifted by the gods long ago to help the realm with healing and guidance. Nam chose to go into that cavern. Chose to stay to protect your kind.” She paused.
“She uses everything she has to hide what she is. It costs her.”
The image of Nam’s curved back, her stiffening fingers, the way she moved slower each year, I had thought it was age. I had thought it was the labor, the cold, and Agusto’s whip.
“Why?” My voice came out barely above a breath. “Why would she choose that?”
Sable looked at me the way Nam always had, loving and sympathetic, as she caressed my face.
“Because of you,” she said softly. “Because someone had to be there to wake you up. When the time is right, you will understand.”
I nodded because I knew she wouldn’t give me an answer if I asked. “Nam is—”
“An alchemist.” That was not the question I wanted to ask, but she added. “And she’s my sister. My parents died to protect us in the war. The king only knows of my existence.”
Sister?
I wanted to hug her. Instead, I stood there like an idiot, blinking, because what did you say to the sister of the woman who had been your mother, your protector, your whole world in that cavern? Thank you felt too small. I’m sorry felt presumptuous. So I said nothing, which felt wrong too.
“How long has it been?” I asked finally. “Since you’ve seen Nam?”
Sadness crossed her face. “Too long. Ever since she was taken to the cavern.”
“She’s strong.” I nodded, wiping the corners of my eyes. “She tells us stories by the fire.”
My heart squeezed, not just from missing her, but for the two of them, for being apart from each other so long. Each taking on a role in this quiet battle, neither knowing if the other was still alive.
Jina and Minha were everything to me. I couldn’t imagine my life without them. I had barely held myself together when we were separated from Minha.
Sable’s eyes glistened. “Good. That’s good.” Her voice softened even more. “Thank you for telling me.”
A moment of quiet passed between us. Then her expression shifted.
“There’s something else.” Her voice dropped lower.
“The king grows impatient. He’s searching for another willing to finish what I’ve started.
” She glanced back toward the camp where the fire crackled low.
“And the queen’s deal, taming the creature for your freedom…
” She grabbed my shoulders, her grip firm, eyes locked on mine.
“Don’t trust it. Don’t give her what she wants. ”
“I won’t.”
“Good.” She stepped back toward the trees. “The creature at Mount Kael, it knows what you are. It won’t harm you. But the soldiers she sends with you will try to take whatever you tame. Be ready for that.”
“How do you know all this?”
She smiled, small and tired. “The forest tells me things.” She glanced up at the stars, then out somewhere far away. “And the sea whispers louder than people think.”
She stepped back into the darkness and I could no longer see her. I stood alone at the edge of the camp with a warm vial in my fist and more questions than I’d started with.
The fire had burned lower while I was gone. The camp was quiet except for the soldiers’ snoring and the owl somewhere in the trees.
I settled beside Minha, tucking the vial beneath my suit next to the dagger and the pearls.
Jina stirred. “Where did you go? I almost woke up Minha to help me find you.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I had to relieve myself.”
It was lame, but the best excuse I could come up with.
A dagger, pearls, and a vial that could end a king’s life, were pressed against my side. Jina settled against me and closed her eyes, and I did the same.
So Sable was the witch the king had spoken of.
I thought back to the that throne room, the king’s voice carrying across the polished stone. Once the forest witch figures out a formula, your kind will all be dead. He had said it as if our deaths were certain, merely a countdown he was waiting to finish.
He had no idea Sable was the reason it never would. And I couldn’t wait to see him again. I dreamed of driving my dagger into the flesh under his chin and watching him burn from the inside out.