Chapter Twenty-Five
The children spilled out onto the deck as dawn broke through, the air sharp with the smell of eggs and ham cooking below. They chased each other between coils of rope and barrels, their laughter echoing across the ship.
In the crow’s nest high above, Ranis was deep in conversation with Jimin, the two of them pointing out at something on the horizon I couldn’t yet see.
Hellena and the elders, still unsteady from the rocking through the night, stayed close to the edge, hands gripping the rail, eyes fixed on the sea like that alone might settle their stomachs.
The children pressed in close around me, restless and curious, when Theron’s voice cut across the deck.
“Whale! Dolphins!”
Jina grabbed my arm with one hand and Minha’s with the other, dragging us both toward the side of the ship.
Nam drew these animals on the dirt with the stick back in the cavern, telling us stories of creatures that lived in the sea and never meant anyone harm. I never believed her. Not until now.
The whale broke the surface first, a great dark shape rolling up out of the water, unhurried, mist sheeting off its back before it slipped under again, barely a ripple to mark where something so massive had been.
A whole pod of sleek and gray dolphins, leaped in arcs alongside the ship, chattering in clicks and whistles that almost sounded like laughter. They kept pace with us for a long while, diving and surfacing, never once seeming afraid of us.
“Just like Nam said.” Jina’s eyes were wet. “She always said they were gentle.”
Something about watching them—so large and unbothered, so at peace in a world that had never been peaceful for any of us—settled warm in my chest.
By the time the pod fell behind us and the whale didn’t resurface again, the children had lost interest and gathered for the morning meal. Hellena herded them toward the same place they’d eaten yesterday, promising there’d be more to see later if they ate first.
After the meal, Jimin rounded up the children with mops nearly as tall as they were, putting them to work scrubbing the deck. What should have been a chore turned into a game.
Hope swung her mop like a sword until Faith splashed her with the bucket, cold water spattering across both their feet.
We all had a good laugh. Sunny sang a half-remembered tune under her breath while she worked, the rest of them picking it up until the whole deck rang with their voices, off-key and delighted, scrubbing in time to a song none of them quite knew all the words to.
Hellena found me near the mast, watching the children, and settled beside me with a small, tired smile.
“Where is he taking us?” she asked, nodding toward Theron, who stood at the wheel, watching the horizon.
“He has a contact,” I said, holding her hand. “Someone he trusts. He says you and the children will be well looked after.”
Hellena was quiet for a moment, her eyes following the children as they worked.
“Each of us carries gemstones,” she said.
“We kept some in our pockets on the day we escaped. I didn’t think to mention it before now.
If Theron needs them for safe passage, for whatever it costs to keep us somewhere safe, we’re willing to give them up. ”
My chest tightened. After everything they’d already given—their years, their labor, the people they’d buried along the way—they were still ready to hand over the one thing that might be worth something, just for the promise of safety.
Some of us took safety for granted.
“I’ll tell him,” I said. “But I don’t think he’d ask that of you.”
The rest of the day passed slow and easy, the ship cutting steady through open water, the children’s energy finally burning down by afternoon into quieter games, then naps in patches of sun along the deck.
The elders settled into the rhythm of the sea better as the hours wore on, color returning to faces that had been gray that morning.
By the time the sun dipped low, and the first stars appeared overhead, the ship couldn’t get close enough to dock, and we were ferried in smaller boats toward shore.
Houses rose in layered tiers up the side of a great hill, stacked one above the other, golden light spilling from the windows. At the base, a waterfall poured down a cliff face, catching what little daylight remained and flashing silver.
Beside me, Hope had gone silent, staring out at the same view, beside her Faith’s and Sunny’s eyes rounded in awe.
“Is that real?” Hope whispered. “I’ve never seen such a beautiful city in my entire life.”
It was, without question, the most breathtaking city I had ever seen so far.
“You’re only seven.” I laughed. “You still have many more to visit.”
“Auris,” came the voice that made my heart skip a beat. “Richest kingdom of the seven seas, next to Caelum. If you ask that question to the merchants who live here, they’ll tell Auris is the best kingdom of them all, usually before you’ve even asked.”
“It’s beautiful.” Helena sighed. “I don’t mind living here. I’m from the Red Sea, Kingdom of Solara. All our homes are set on sand.”
“It’s so hot there.” Hope grimaced, her friends agreeing.
Well, that answered where they came from.
“Do you live here, Pirate Theron?” Sunny asked timidly.
“No.” He snorted. “This…” he tapped the deck with his boot. “Is my home.”
The kids snickered, their laughter contagious.
“When we reach land, don’t speak to strangers,” Theron said, his gaze bouncing from one person to the next.
“My contact runs one of the trading houses near the upper terraces. Jeju pearls move through here more than anywhere else in the seven seas, which means people like the Seelie queen’s buyers move through here too.
It’s safe, but if you come across the wrong crowd, it can be dangerous. ” His gaze landed on me. “Stay close.”
Why did those words sound so personal?
“Time to board the boats!” Ranis shouted from the forecastle deck.
Jimin echoed the call from the top of the ratlines, making sure everyone heard, then slid down the rope, his braid bouncing against his back. The children gawked at him, wide-eyed, when he landed without a sound.
Getting everyone into the smaller boats took longer than I expected. Crew members worked the ropes at davits along the rail, lowering each boat hand over hand until it bobbed level with a rope ladder strung over the side.
One by one, the children climbed down. Ranis was already below in the rowboat, arms out to catch anyone who slipped. The elders went next, slower, gripping the ladder with white-knuckled hands while Jimin steadied the rope from above and murmured, reassuring each of them in turn.
When it was my turn, I swung one leg over the rail, found the first rung with my foot, and climbed down. The ladder swayed with every wave, and for one heart-stopping second my foot missed a rung before I caught myself.
“Got you.” Ranis’s hand closed around my arm, hauling me the last few feet into the boat as he wrapped his arms around me. “Careful, Star.”
“Thanks.” I said out of breath, but the kids smiling and giggling stopped me short.
A voice cut in from behind me, “There’s too many of you on this boat. Little Star goes with me.”
No one else called me Little Star. How did he appear behind me? Did he jump? That would be him showing off. No wonder the kids looked amazed. And so was I by the sight of him.
He wore a fine naval coat with gold buttons, a white shirt tucked in at the waist, dark pants fitted clean to his frame. Every inch of him looking exactly like the prince I suspected he was.
Gods, he was infuriatingly handsome. And I might have stared at him a bit longer than I should have. That smirk he wore so well beamed bright as the moonlight.
I would have said something about him being infuriating, especially since there was one seat left, clearly for me, but I let it go. Not in front of the kids.
“Can I go with you, Star?” Hope rose from her seat.
“Take her or I’m not getting on the next boat,” I said to Theron.
Theron lifted Hope, then me, into the boat beside ours, where Minha and Jina were already seated with some of the elders. My sisters gave me a funny look, glancing between Theron and me, then giggled to themselves.
Fraya pursed her lips and dipped the oar into the water.
I dropped onto the bench and looked back up at the ship towering above us, lantern light spilling from her deck, growing smaller with every push of the oar toward shore.
Jimin waved to the kids, blowing kisses at them. “I’ll miss you, my little pirates.”
The kids waved back, laughter bursting deep within their full bellies.
Theron’s arms flexed, muscles bulging as he rowed, the oar cutting clean through the water with each pull.
The closer we got to the port, the brighter the candlelight seeped through the windows.
Theron guided the boat alongside the dock and looped the rope around a mooring post, pulling it tight with a few tugs before reaching back to help the rest of us out.
Several large carriages waited at the port, and a short distance away fishermen sorted through their day’s catch, scales flashing bright under the lantern light. What did they catch in the darkness?
“Wait here.” Theron raised a palm, looking directly at me.
Theron approached the three drivers waiting by the carriages, handed them what I assumed were bags of coin, then we climbed into ours. Fraya managed the second one, and Ranis did the same for the last.
The carriage was bare-bones—hard wooden benches, a lantern swaying from the ceiling, the canvas sides flapping loose at the corners. But the three of them fit all of us, though cramped, shoulder to shoulder.
The carriage rocked on the bumpy roads like the ship on the waves, the wheels groaning with every uneven stone.
I pressed my hand flat against the wall to steady myself, the seat creaking beneath me.
Once in a while, I’d catch Theron, sitting across from me, looking at me with that unreadable expression, then he’d turn to glance out the window.
The city slid past the window—narrow streets climbing steep between buildings stacked close together, candlelight spilling gold from the windows.
Hope had fallen asleep against my shoulder somewhere along the way, and I didn’t have the heart to shift her even when my arm went numb.
The carriage slowed, then stopped, the wheels finally going still.
“We’re here,” Theron said, reaching for the door, then helping us out. Hope, rubbing her eyes, and I were last.
Warm light poured from every window of the two-story tavern, built from stone and timber. The low hum of voices and laughter spilled out each time the door swung open. A wooden sign creaked overhead, swinging slightly in the breeze, though I couldn’t make out what was painted on it in the dark.
“We’ll stop here for the night,” Theron said. “The kids need rest before we go any farther.” He turned to Fraya, Minha, Jina, and Ranis. “Go on inside, get yourselves a drink. I’ll find you once I’ve settled the children.”
Minha didn’t need telling twice, heading for the tavern door with Jina close behind. Ranis lingered a moment, glancing between Theron and me before he followed them in.
We made our way around to the back of the tavern, the noise of the main room fading behind us.
We stepped on a narrow wooden staircase that clung to the building’s outer wall, leading up to a second-floor entrance lit by a lantern hung beside the door.
We climbed single file, the steps creaking under our weight.
At the top, a woman waited for us, and I knew before she even spoke who she was.
Selene was even more striking up close than she’d been that night on the ship—golden hair loose around her shoulders, skin sun-warmed and flawless, eyes clear blue that seemed to take in everyone at once. She had a softness to her, gentle in the way she held herself, even her voice.
“Welcome.” She crouched to greet the children, her smile widening at each face. She smelled of lavender and clean linen. “Come in, there’s food and warm beds for everyone.”
The children filed past her, shy but drawn in by her warmth. Hellena and the elders followed, murmuring their thanks. I went too, but not too far, keeping my ears open.
Theron held back, and Selene turned to him, lowering her voice just enough that I had to strain to catch it. I told myself not to look, not to listen, but I did anyway.
She stepped close, closer than the conversation seemed to need, and rested a hand flat against his chest, smiling. Her fingers trailed up, brushing along his jaw, inching toward his lips.
My chest constricted and still I couldn’t look away.
Theron said something low I couldn’t hear. He took her hand in his, easing it back down to her side. Selene frowned. Theron took a step back, uninterested in whatever she had to offer. Why did watching her get turned away feel like relief?
Hope’s grip on my hand tightened, pulling me back to her. She wasn’t looking at Theron and Selene. Her eyes were fixed on a large square room where bedrolls were already laid out for them, chairs to seat a few, and a table too small to fit all of her friends.
All of it too new, too much at once—from the mountain, to the ship, to this new place, and its people. I understood. As an adult, it was difficult to assimilate, but for a child, it must be much harder.
“You’re going to be just fine,” I told her, crouching down to her level. “You trust Pirate Theron, right?”
She nodded, smiling.
“That pretty lady is his friend.” I pointed to Hellena, who had come closer now that Theron had rejected Selene. “She and your friends are going to be right here with you the whole time.”
She nodded again, her grip loosening just slightly, like she was deciding to believe me.
“Good girl.” I kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back. Get a good rest because we’ll have to leave before the sun comes up.”
I gave a curt nod to Hellena, then to Selene, and followed Theron to the tavern where my friends awaited.