7. Bryn #2
“The reason you need me and can’t do this by yourself. The challenge. Is there a chest with ten thousand locks? A troll guarding the treasure? Is it buried underground?”
If it were the latter, he’d be better off finding a Forest or Fjell Fae. Their magic would make this endeavor incredibly easy. A wave of their hand and poof, soil moved.
“Ah,” he replied. “It’s a very large house.”
“How large?” And what else did it contain?
“Castle-esque.”
I let out a massive sigh and titled my head back. “Sending in an entire crew would tip off the owner and put people in danger.”
“Exactly,” he replied. “And I won’t take any unnecessary risks with my crew and their lives.”
I glanced back at him. “That’s surprisingly admirable.”
“I am.”
Ugh. All right, focusing. “Can’t you just use your royal fae powers to get the maps?”
He shook his head and propped his elbow on the table.
A moment later an effervescent orb of light appeared in his palm.
The sparking and glittering ball looked like the ones that hung from the ceiling here and in the ship’s kitchen.
“Very useful for lighting things like rooms or tight spaces, but aside from providing light or stunning people, this is as far as my royal fae powers go.”
My face scrunched, brows knitting together. “I thought you could do stronger mirage magic and tinker with other people’s powers?”
He closed his hand and the orb vanished.
“Yes and no. It’s possible but not something I’ve focused on.
My training was more toward my water magic.
My eldest brother, Reuven, the heir, he has trained his royal powers more and will inherit the full monarch’s power when my father dies…
if the ancestors wish to recycle that magic to him. ”
I’d heard of that process. Mumblings about the royals’ powers being handed down from one generation to the next.
It wasn’t much different from how usual fae magic worked.
Though, when we normal fae passed on to join the ancestors, our magic was recycled and given out where needed.
All in the name of our purpose to care for and protect the world’s natural resources.
But one thing was certain: Royal magic or not, Henrik was very powerful. Not every fae could use their magic to control an entire ship, let alone submerge it while keeping its contents in place. If his eldest brother was more powerful than that… I shuddered at the thought.
“Any other siblings I should be wary of?”
Henrik sighed. “Tormund, second born, mostly keeps to himself. The others are spread across the Atlantic. But I’d keep an eye on the current youngest, Marlena, she’s only a few years old but has already learned how to control the tides down in Denmark.”
Ancestors help us. Toddlers controlling tides?
“When do you want to do this heist?” I asked, drawing our conversation back to the matter at hand. Which was surprising of me. I was usually the one who let conversations drift off topic. Then again, perhaps that had been my fault this time too?
“Two days too soon?” Henrik said.
I shook my head. “As long as I get some sleep.”
“Well, with a good night of sleep all will be fine.” He downed the rest of his drink and rose to his feet. “You will be staying in here.”
“Yes, you did tell me that already.”
“Cocky.”
I was.
He approached the bed and bent down, pulling a lump of fabric out from beneath it. Coming back near the table, he reached up and hooked one end to an eyelet hook in the beam across the ceiling and then fastened the other to a matching hook a few paces away.
“A hammock?”
“Comes in handy sometimes.”
“Like when your linens are being washed?”
He placed his free hand against his chest, right where his shirt opened to reveal a hint of ink. “Oh, no this isn’t for me.”
Ancestors, no.
“This is for you.”
“I am not sleeping in a hammock.”
“Where else do you plan on sleeping?”
I pointed to his bed.
“I will be sleeping there,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“No, you will be a gentleman and take the hammock.”
“When have you ever known me to be a gentleman, Bryn?”
My toes curled, and I swallowed hard. He was right; there was nothing gentlemanly about him.
Looked like I was swinging from the rafters tonight. Lucky me.
“Bryn… Bryn…”
My eyes blinked open and found a handsome devil staring down at me where I swung to and fro in the darkness, only a faint orb of light floating nearby shedding a gentle glow across his broad shoulders. He was in his trousers and a very loose white shirt. “You almost fell out, dammit.”
I peered around. The hammock was swinging quite violently. Almost as violent as the nature of my nightmares. The duo that haunted my nights. The people I’d get this necklace to and be done with. One day I’d stab those bastards.
“Are you all right?”
That was a very good question. One I often asked myself but never wanted to truly know the answer to.
“Bryn, do I have to worry about you falling out of this hammock and hurting yourself?”
“That would be well outside your scope of work as captain,” I said, my voice croaky.
“I take care of everyone on my ship.”
“Even the ones that allegedly steal from you?”
“Those I kill.”
I waved my hand down my person and instantly regretted the motion as it jostled the hammock, knocking me into the firm, mast-like being that was the Fjord Fae beside me. “And yet I still live.”
He wrapped an arm around me and the hammock, stilling our movement. Those eyes shimmered like the night sky on a cold winter’s eve. “I have plans for you.”
“Dastardly plans?”
“Despicable.”
“Ooo,” I cooed. “My favorite.”
He scoffed and took a step back, crossing his arms. “What dreams caused that amount of fidgeting?”
“I’d rather we discuss those plans of yours.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“Is there gold involved? Jewels? I have taken a liking to emeralds recently. Really big ones.”
His brows rose, wholly unamused. “Bryn?”
“Yes.”
“You were about to fall out of the hammock and looked like you were trying to stab someone. What haunts you?”
Everything. And nothing. No one of concern. Or, at least, I was working on making it that way. I just needed to get back to Grim and it would all be sorted.
“It doesn’t matter,” I muttered.
“Well,” he huffed. “If you won’t tell me, then I’m going to ask you to sleep in the bed.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because I can’t have the thief I’m relying on accidentally snapping her own neck by falling out of her hammock.”
I swung my legs over the side, my arms flailing to regain my balance. A hand reached out and latched around my calf, steadying me.
“I would not have broken my neck.”
He tugged lightly on my leg, pulling me closer, and I swallowed hard at the heat in his eyes. “You didn’t see how hard you were fidgeting.”
Fair enough.
“Well, I will take the bed then. Seeing as you are being so kind and all.”
I hopped down and sauntered over to the cozy-looking mattress, the covers thrown back.
“Oh,” he said, stopping me in my tracks. “I will be joining you.”