Chapter 13
I’m going to drown.
I’m going to drown, and Ferria will never know what happened to me. She’ll be alone… I can’t leave her alone.
My healing magic attempts to spark to life, but it’s too weak. Too spent. My battle with the Pelagor took every ounce of strength it managed to replenish after my attempt to heal Darius. I’m helpless. Doomed.
The arm around my waist tightens.
“You are not doomed,” Rian hisses in my ear.
I jolt.
Did I say that out loud?
Water sprays my face. I brace for a wave to crash down on top of my head, but a thud echoes instead.
I tilt my chin up and gasp. Rippling shadows hover overhead, bearing the brunt of the crashing wave.
Holy Goddess, Olyra…
“ENOUGH!” Rian bellows.
An arc of shadow flies out from the dinghy.
From the other side of the shadow wall, pained shouts pierce the air.
Then the churning water stills. The dark wall lowers.
I blink against the seawater clinging to my lashes and gape at the scene before me.
A stark-white ship bobs in the ocean a hundred feet away. But it’s not tall like the ship we left.
No, this one is a low longboat. Its deck is shallow. And half a dozen men stand along the edge of the railing. Long hair of varying shades of brown whip through the breeze. Glinting arrows are notched in wooden bows, aimed at us.
Silas stands tall, his shadows no longer needed after Rian cast away whatever forces were creating the volatile water and assaulting wind.
“What is the meaning of your attack?” he shouts, a shadow wrapping around his lips and flying to the ship.
The men on board balk. As do I.
Did he… Did he just project his voice over to them?
How can shadows do that?
A man steps forward. He lifts a hand, and a gust of wind fills the boat’s sails, moving their vessel closer to ours.
Magic.
Adrenaline dumps into my veins. My body starts to shake.
“Be at ease,” Rian murmurs into my ear, sending another shiver down my spine. “It’s just a welcoming party.”
I choke out a snort. “Some welcoming party.”
Breath caresses my neck with his quiet laugh. “Indeed.”
The arm around my midsection falls away. Rian straightens to his full height and faces the approaching ship. I hurry to shift my body so I’m no longer pressed against him.
Legs unsteady, I sit on the closest bench.
I take a deep breath and eye each arrow aimed at us. The closer the vessel gets, the more details I take in.
The white ship isn’t just white—it’s sparkling, as if someone poured ground-up crystal into the paint before slathering it over the wood.
The men on board vary in height, but most tower over the low railing at the edge of their ship. Their skin tones also vary, but they wear the same navy-blue trousers and sleeveless, off-white tunics, cinched at their waists with black leather weapons belts. And their hair…
I trail my gaze over every man and confirm that not a single one has hair shorter than their shoulders. It’s…strange. No man in Verdanthia grows out their hair. Long hair is a liability for most jobs.
From straight strands to coiled curls, the men aboard the ship let their hair flare in the breeze with proud stances and firm expressions. Long hair does not make them any less formidable. If anything, their lack of concern for the hindrance speaks of their confidence.
And why shouldn’t they be confident? At least one man on board has the ability to move the entire ship with conjured air.
A past conversation with Rian plays in my head. Human magic is elemental. I scan the men once more. Are they all human? Or are there Fae in their midst?
The dinghy rocks back and forth. I slide my slippered feet wider to hold my seat, wrap my hands around the straps of my satchel, and wait, heart thumping.
As subtly as I can, I scan the open sea around us. Before I fell asleep, Darius and Draven’s boat floated close by. Now they’re nowhere in sight.
Seconds drag on.
The sun shines down once more. Without the protection of the makeshift tent Rian constructed with his shirt, heat warms my scalp. I smooth my hair back and tie it into a ponytail, lifting the long strands off my damp neck.
The ship cuts through the water, then turns until the entire length of the vessel faces our small dinghy.
Up close, the vitriol in the men’s eyes is easier to see.
This isn’t good.
Silas waits until the air flows out of their sails before saying, “I’ll ask again, what is the meaning of your attack?”
Not a single weapon lowers.
A man with rich, mahogany hair steps forward, slipping between two archers to stand at the ship’s railing.
“You trespass these waters,” his deep voice bellows, his accent a curious blend of the Fae’s noble cadence and the common tongue spoken by my neighbors. “By the laws of Virendrell, it is within our rights to sink your vessel to the depths.”
Gods, no.
My chest tightens.
A tendril of shadow wraps around my wrist.
I jerk and look down at the gentle caress, but it dissipates the next second.
Silas doesn’t so much as flinch. “Do that, and I can assure you, it will be your last act before you meet The Mother.”
A mass of shadow rises from his shoulders, then falls behind him like a shifting cloak.
Each man aboard the ship stiffens as they realize they stand in the presence of Shadow Fae.
Little do they know, these males aren’t just any Shadow Fae. One of them is the Shadow Prince.
I glance at Rian.
Why isn’t he speaking to these men?
Is he planning on keeping his identity a secret?
Dark eyes meet mine. Rian lifts a strong brow. I turn away.
The speaker for the vessel leans forward, large fingers gripping the ship’s railing as his eyes flash. “You dare threaten us?”
“You started it.” Silas shrugs. “But rest assured, we don’t wish for violence today.”
A loaded second passes. Then—
“What do you wish for?”
“Safe passage to Virendrell. We have business to conduct there.”
The man grumbles. “What business?”
“I’m afraid that is private. But I give my word, it is nothing nefarious.”
“The day I trust the word of a Shadow Fae is the day I greet The Mother,” the man spits.
“That can be arranged,” Silas returns with a smirk.
The men at the speaker’s back draw their bows a little tighter.
Shit.
I eye the gleaming arrows once more. Silas and Rian can save us from their attack, but if we have to fight our way out of this situation, what will happen when we get to Virendrell?
No one will be willing to help us if they learn we attacked a ship filled with their men. They won’t care if it was in self-defense.
“You. Girl.”
I jerk. The speaker’s intense stare bores into me.
His eyes flick over my face before lingering on my ears. “You’re human?”
Beside me, Rian tenses, straining like a rope ready to snap.
I swallow and dip my chin. “I-I am.”
“Are you a prisoner of these males?”
I blink. “Prisoner?”
His eyes sharpen. “Yes… Do you need assistance, my lady? Have these males harmed you?”
Only my ego.
The thought comes quickly, but the truth isn’t so simple.
As much as I despise the manipulation that holds me at Rian’s mercy, the Shadow Fae have not hurt me. Not physically.
Except for when his shadows sliced your flesh like a hot knife through butter for trying to betray the deal that you made.
Right…except that.
“Miss?”
I snap out of my musings and meet the brown-haired male’s penetrating stare. “Yes?”
He frowns. “I asked if you are hurt?”
“Oh.” I look at my disheveled blouse and skirt.
Underneath, I’m sure the bruises from the Pelagor’s suckers linger on my leg. And my lungs still ache from oxygen deprivation. Otherwise…
“No, I’m fine.”
His eyes narrow then dart to Rian. “Come aboard our ship, miss, and we will take you ashore.”
A boom of thunder echoes across the sky as thick shadows block out the sun. Power vibrates off Rian, brushing against my skin, making the shadows on my arms twitch.
“That is out of the question,” Silas says calmly. “This woman is under our protection.”
A different man, this one with a large, crooked nose, sneers. “Since when do Shadow Fae protect humans?”
“Since now,” Silas replies evenly.
The man shares a loaded, questioning look with the sailor next to him.
Shadows continue to darken overhead, and the marks on my arms writhe at the ire wafting off the prince at my side.
Silas clears his throat. “Either escort us to your port, or kindly move your vessel out of our way.”
The stare-off teems with tension, mutual distrust, and disdain. For as much as the Fae aren’t fond of Virendrell, their citizens feel the same about them.
My stomach knots.
I don’t know which male, if either, will back off first.
The shadowy storm above us grows, casting the day into ominous dark, a silent promise that things are going to get ugly.
“Ahoy there!”
Heads turn.
Darius and Draven’s dinghy floats into view.
The surly Fae rows the boat while Darius stands, waving his arm in the air with a bright smile.
His clothes stick to his body, and wet hair is plastered to his forehead. “We aren’t missing out on the fun, are we?”
The men aboard the longboat begin to mutter and curse, displeased by the arrival of more Shadow Fae.
“You there, stop where you—” The brown-haired man’s words are cut off when a shadow flows into his ear.
Different tendrils flow into his sailors’ ears, too.
I jump to my feet, teetering on my heels when the boat rocks.
Rian’s hand snaps out and grabs my arm.
My pulse spikes.
I tug to free myself. His fingers tighten for a split second before he loosens his grip.
I slip away and swallow the lump in my throat, then focus on Draven. His muscular back faces us as he continues rowing while also wielding his shadows.
Impressive.
Silas’s quiet sigh reaches my ears.
I turn.
The men on the longboat have lowered their weapons, and the one I assume is their leader has lost his fierce glare. Now he simply looks wary.
“What is your business in Virendrell?” the man asks us again.
Silas doesn’t miss a beat. “That is a private matter, sir, but if you would be willing to escort us to your dock, we’d be happy to explain it to your mayor.”
Mayor?
The man purses his lips.