Chapter 31
CHAPTER 31
T he boat rose on the wall of water as it roared toward the cave.
Neve’s throat constricted with a repressed scream. If they remained in the rowboat, surely they’d crash into the sheer cliff above the mouth of the cave. But the only alternative was being thrown overboard and trying to swim inside.
Gulping air and gripping Riella’s hand, Neve prepared to be flung. She could see nothing except the rocks and the thick gray mist that blurred sky and sea.
“Hold on!” shouted Riella as the water swelled to a mountainous height.
The wave crashed, hurtling the rowboat with it. Jarin and Eleksi drove the oars into the water, trying fruitlessly to direct the boat. Neve held her breath as the rowboat teetered dangerously close to going vertical. For a horrible moment, she thought both she and Riella would be pitched headfirst into the seething swell.
There was another sudden lurch forward and the foggy surroundings became darker and quieter. By some miracle, the rowboat had been propelled into the cave’s mouth.
The boat righted itself on the water, which was still roiling and dangerous even in the cave. One big surge would be enough to suck the boat back out to sea.
Jarin let out a mad whoop of joy. He and Eleksi pumped the oars furiously to direct the rowboat toward the pebbly shore. Neve, her teeth clattering, was too cold and scared to celebrate just yet.
“Your magic worked,” said Riella. “I felt the spell like an angel’s wings around me.”
“It was just as likely luck that we survived,” said Neve weakly. “No sorcerer is truly a match for the ocean.”
The vessel they’d glimpsed from the Pandora became clearer. Neve felt queasy at the extent of the damage to the hull and masts. The ship was destroyed, like a giant had picked it up and smashed it against the rocks.
“Gods,” said Riella, finally loosening her vise-like grip on Neve’s numb hand. “Even sirens don’t do that much damage.”
She and Jarin exchanged a worried glance. Neve knew what they didn’t want to say out loud. That the likelihood of survivors was painfully slim.
“It might not have been Davron and Amelie’s ship,” said Eleksi. “The flag is Zermetic, but it could’ve been transporting dignitaries of another kind. People come and go from Klatos all the time.”
The elegant wooden ship did indeed look regal. It was no merchant or fishing vessel. Whoever had been aboard was important to the kingdom.
“Let’s investigate before despairing,” said Jarin.
At the swirling shallows, the men hauled the boat onto the slippery pebbled bank.
Sodden and breathless, Neve stood shakily. Eleksi picked her up, lifting her from the rowboat and setting her down on the bank.
“Are you alright?” he asked, looking her over carefully.
Neve nodded, unable to stop trembling. It was not only the cold, she realized, but fear and anticipation, too.
The cave was full of shadows. Ominously long stalactites hung from the high ceiling like spears and the rock formations echoed with the roar of the ocean.
“How will we get out of here?” asked Neve, looking around at the impenetrable-seeming cave interior. “Will we need to row back through the mouth?”
“We’ll have to wait for the storm to pass,” said Jarin. “Once it does, the way will be easy to navigate in the rowboat.”
Slow with caution, they walked over the wet rocks toward the wrecked ship. Eleksi withdrew his golden dagger. Neve’s silver sword hung heavy and cold in its scabbard against her back.
The vessel leaned on the bank, the hissing water tugging at the smashed hull. Partially dislodged cannons teetered from holes and the sails were torn to ribbons. The tugging of the water almost made the ship seem alive. With every twitch of the sails and creak of the masts, she expected a person to appear.
“What do you think happened to the passengers and sailors?” murmured Neve. “Even on such a small vessel, there would’ve been dozens, no?”
Riella winced. “Mostly likely? They were lost at sea, and then the ship was swept into the cave by a swell.”
Jarin gave her a sharp look, but Neve appreciated her honesty.
“We know nothing for certain,” said Eleksi, prowling toward the ship.
Jarin drew level with him, a hand on the cutlass belted to his hip.
At the vessel, Eleksi leaped over the railing and landed on the deck. From the bank below, Neve could see nothing except the masts and a few destroyed sails. She, Jarin, and Riella followed him.
The ship was even more damaged than it appeared from the outside. Holes were punched through the deck where stray cannon balls had fallen, and ropes and debris were strewn among the tattered sails.
But even the dumping waves and lashing rain hadn’t been enough to wash away the blood. The dark red liquid poured from the cabin, merging with rivulets of salty water.
Stricken, Neve hurried to Eleksi, who stood in the doorway leading below to the quarters and galley.
“Gods,” she gasped, putting her hand over her heart.
The interior was demolished, despite being mostly protected from the storm. Railings had been broken, glass was shattered. Blood soaked the carpets and painted the walls in lurid splashes. The thick, metallic scent was overpowering, making Neve’s stomach clench.
She backed up, returning to the deck, as Riella went below to survey the damage herself.
Eleksi squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll go down and look properly for clues. And survivors,” he added, although his tone suggested he would find none.
Riella and Jarin waited with Neve on the deck, their faces somber.
“Remember, it may not even be the prince’s ship,” said Jarin. “If there are no bodies, we can’t lose hope.”
Neve avoided their gaze, unable to bring herself to answer.
As a sorceress, she felt the energetic echo of what happened on this ship. There had been fear and shock and a brutal struggle. Most damning of all, some of the blood staining the deck resonated with her own. It seeped into the soles of her boots, whispering to her. One of her kin had bled here.
Eleksi emerged from below. He’d sheathed his weapon and held out his hand to show them something. In his palm was a silver spider ring, identical to his own.
“I found it in the sleeping quarters,” he said, his jet-black brows bent in a deep frown. “No bodies.” He hesitated. “There were women’s dresses and nightgowns, and stacks of books. Velandian books.”
Neve wilted. “Amelie’s Velandian. This was their ship.”
“Any clue what happened to the assassin?” asked Jarin.
Eleksi shrugged. “Nothing good, we can presume. It’s like he disappeared.” He looked down at the ring. “I believe the most likely scenario is indeed the most obvious. There was a struggle, and then the ship hit the storm. Anyone who survived the fight likely drowned. Thrown overboard, along with the bodies.” He looked at Neve. “I’m sorry.”
She took the ring and held it tightly in her hand, attempting to divine the truth of the situation. All she felt was the same thing she felt in the rest of the ship. Violence.
“Uh, who is that ?” hissed Riella.
The siren craned her neck at the rocky bank where they’d come ashore.
Neve hastily returned the ring to Eleksi and followed Riella’s gaze.
The four watched as a large, wild-looking man strode toward the rowboat.
“If he takes it, we’re trapped,” said Jarin. “Unless we swim the underwater caverns.”
Had the man been hiding, waiting for them to leave the boat unattended? Neve’s eyes flicked to the shadowy rock formations at the rear of the cave. There were endless hiding places, and it was foolish of them to leave the boat unattended, especially with an assassin potentially lurking. Was that the Spider King? But also, what if it was?—
“Davron!” shouted Neve without thinking about it further.
If he was the prince, she couldn’t bear to let him get away. And if he wasn’t, the four would simply have a fight on their hands.
The man turned as if in slow motion, his hulking form covered in slashes and blood, and glared at them.
Even from a distance, Neve felt the blistering force of his furious stare. His hair was dark and his face bore old scars, tattoos covering his arms and chest and neck. His long boots, dark trousers, and ripped shirt were stained with blood.
In one massive fist, he carried a red-sheened sword.
“She’s dead!” he roared, his booming voice bouncing off the rock surfaces, louder than even the raging storm. “Amelie is dead!”
Neve reeled. They were too late. Of course they were. Davron and Amelie had been trapped on a ship with a Spider King since Port Hyacinth.
When had the assassin struck? He likely waited until they slept and ambushed them in bed. It would explain the blood-drenched sleeping quarters strewn with poor Amelie’s books.
Neve’s heart broke for Davron. He’d survived a decade-long curse and found love against all odds, only for it to be cruelly snatched away when he tried to return to his homeland.
She longed to comfort him in some way, but he gave every impression of a man who’d slaughter anyone who came near him.
But she had to try.
She stepped around Eleksi. “Davron. I’m sorry about Amelie, more than I can say. My name is Neve and I am?—”
Eleksi cut in, speaking into her ear. “Hush with the details, for now. He could see you as a threat, or a trickster.”
Neve knew he was right. She took a deep breath. “Please, Davron, we came here to help you.”
“And how can you help me?” he shouted, tightening his grip on the sword and taking a menacing step forward. “I do not belong here! I should not have come. To pay the price of Amelie is more than I can bear. I seek only to leave, and you will not stop me.”
Neve sighed. This was a disaster. Amelie was dead, Davron seemed intent on leaving Zermes as quickly as he’d arrived, and he had no idea who they were.
How could she convince him they meant no harm?
She turned to Eleksi. “I have to tell him.”
“Not a chance,” he said with a growl, his silver glare on Davron. “It’s too risky.”
“There are four of us and one of him,” said Neve quietly. “And might I remind you, there’s far more at stake than just my life.”
“ Just ?” repeated Eleksi.
“I have to try. And you can’t stop me.”
Neve climbed over the railing and hopped down to the shore, feeling Davron’s searing glare on her the whole time. Eleksi swiftly followed, as did Riella and Jarin. As they approached the prince, she wondered what she could possibly say to put his mind at ease, even a little bit.
Not only was he alone and grieving, but Neve had to somehow convince him to commit regicide with them—a group comprising a sorceress, a siren, Levissina’s son, and an assassin very much like the one who just murdered his beloved wife.
If Neve was him, she’d feel compelled to fight to the death without bothering to exchange words. And it wouldn’t do to be dishonest with him. He was, she hoped, their future king.
She stopped a few paces before him and bowed her head, quivering in her sodden cloak. His dark brown eyes were impenetrable and fierce as he regarded her. He gave no sign of relenting his combative stance.
“Prince Davron, my name is Neve. I am the illegitimate daughter of Leonid Nikolaou. I believe we have much to discuss.”