Chapter 3

3

arwen

I took Griffin’s frown as my cue to leave and scampered up the wooden steps to the deck in record time. My shoulders and waist still blazed with the memory of Kane’s large, warm hands. That had been too close—too charged. I inhaled to relax the tightness in my body. Thank the Stones he was so drunk. It was easy to ignore his sensual charm, his roguish charisma, when he couldn’t even speak without slurring.

Well, easier, at least.

I pushed through sturdy oak doors and unexpected sunlight washed over my face. The rays tingled on my skin and brought back memories of Onyx—cut grass, white butterflies, cicadas chirping. I’d almost forgotten in our near ten days straight of torrential downpour that it was still summertime.

Time was still passing, the world still turning, despite my mother’s death. Despite all we had lost. All I had done.

That sunlight was like liquid gold dripping down the towering masts as they climbed toward the sky. It should have pulled my lips into a smile. I thought of my mother, and how she would feel seeing me frown up at the sun.

But the bath of light only reminded me of all the lives I had taken in my rage, in my unchecked display of power. Flashes of dripping red and cracks of bone sang in my ears, and I felt more seasick than I had when the ship had been tossed like a piece of driftwood among the waves.

Eventually, more passengers made their way on deck, too. Some offered me a wide berth, scattering toward the ship’s railings or crowding beneath the billowing sails. Those who had witnessed my power weren’t eager to be near me, and I didn’t blame them.

But others were just thrilled to witness the storm’s clearing, and their chatter pulled my mind free from its tangled, gory web. Even Amelia, who looked pretty sloshed herself, was sporting a rare grin and turning her tanned face to the skies above.

I swore Griffin had said we’d arrived, but there was no land in any direction. I crossed to the other side of the ship to double-check, but we were anchored in the middle of a vast blue ocean—nothing but rippling waves and the occasional seagull high in the air above.

“Holy Stones, it’s over!” Mari cheered as she approached.

Ryder followed close behind, as he had the entire journey. He was a terrible flirt, and Ryder’s latest infatuation seemed to be my only friend. After a lifetime of sharing everyone with my more charismatic brother, I expected it to bother me, but instead I found a vacant well where my jealousy used to grow. There was, however, someone else on board who bristled against Ryder’s interest in Mari.

“Witch,” Griffin said to her by way of greeting as he buckled his black leather armor across his chest. “The king requires your assistance.” His expression was serious—nothing new there—but he was fidgeting. Fixing his chest plate, tugging at his collar.

I’d never seen him do that before.

“Come on, man,” Ryder chided. “You know her name.”

“It’s better than calling her red,” Griffin said, gaze so murderous I nearly cowered.

But Ryder only grinned and glanced sidelong at Mari. “That’s just a term of endearment,” he said, twisting one lock of her bright, bouncy hair around his finger and giving it a playful tug. “She knows I respect her enough to call her Mari. Don’t you, Red?”

I couldn’t help but peer over at Griffin. His glare said he was weighing the ramifications of ripping Ryder’s finger clean off and chucking it into the ocean behind us.

I tried to offer him a warm expression. I wasn’t sure if he liked me more now that boundless grief had made me sullen or if I liked him more because he never required a phony smile or false cheer. Either way, the new dynamic suited us just fine.

Mari, meanwhile, gave Ryder an easy smile but didn’t blush. She was a bit aloof in that way—one of her more unexpected qualities. Men were always interested in her, and she was rarely interested in them unless they had an academic text to offer. While I knew it stemmed less from lack of interest and more from self-preservation—a childhood at the mercy of bullies had taught her to steer clear of men altogether—to outsiders like Ryder, it made her appear confident. Unattainable. The only time I had seen her falter was that bizarre dinner with Griffin outside Serpent Spring, which, try as I might, she was never interested in speaking of again.

“All right,” I cut in, sparing all of us more of the strange pissing contest. “Griffin, we’ll follow you.”

Griffin exhaled in a short burst and we trailed him over to a crowd that had gathered beneath King Eryx. The now-ousted king of the Peridot Provinces stood below the rigging, backed by a crisp blue horizon we could finally see, now that the storm had abated. He rubbed his potbelly absently, looking out over his new, nautical dominion with pride. His waxy, thinning white hair, the same hue as his daughter’s, rustled in the sea breeze.

We pushed through the crowd, stopping alongside Barney, who stood beside . . . Kane and Leigh. Of course. My stomach soured.

He was showing her his sword’s pommel, the sun glinting off the shiny metal and across Leigh’s wide eyes. I wanted to cut in, quip something about weapons and their place around children, but it had been days since I had seen Leigh look so interested in anything. Despite his horrible judgment when it came to me, he was . . . good with her.

“Finally, a beautiful day,” Barney said beside me, eyes trained on the taut white canvas above our heads, bald head glinting. “This is what sailing should always feel like.”

Barney was a delight, and he and Mari alone had accounted for any joy anyone on this voyage had experienced. I tried to smile at him. “Have you been to Citrine before?”

“Never. I’ve only heard great things, though. Some of the kingsguard went with his majesty once and said it changed their lives.”

Thank the Stones. I was ready for exactly such an experience. Maybe I’d be like Mari and dedicate my life to seeing and learning new things. Well, what was left of it.

Ugh.

My own self-pity was making me nauseous.

Sunny day, sunny Arwen. Pull it together.

“It has been a dreary journey.” King Eryx’s booming voice silenced the tittering crowd. “But the misery has finally come to an end. I have led us to the safest kingdom in all of Evendell.” The passengers, still finding their spots before him, murmured their relief at Eryx’s words. One overzealous man clapped, and Eryx’s grin radiated faux humility.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

Eryx continued to address the rain-battered passengers, but Kane’s snicker pulled my attention to where Leigh was peering up at him, a mischievous grin across her face. I couldn’t help turning to Barney to say, “Don’t you think drunk older men shouldn’t gossip with ten-year-old girls?”

Barney blanched, looking from me to his king and back. I must’ve been louder than I intended, as Leigh turned about thirty shades of red before slipping away from us all and deeper into the crowd. I moved after her, but Kane’s warm hand encircled my arm and I felt my skin heat with the contact. I ripped free from his grasp.

“Look what you’ve done,” he tutted at me under his breath. “You’ve embarrassed the little one.”

I peered up at him, my glare venomous, only to see the fresh air blowing his hair around his face and sunlight glinting off his silver rings. He looked calm, actually. He released me and tucked the hand into his pocket. “And I’m not drunk . . . anymore.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Shh!” A stone-faced woman whirled around and scolded us before turning her attention back to Eryx.

Shame warmed my cheeks and cooled my rage. I tried to focus on Eryx, who was gesticulating wildly as he spoke about his long and storied allyship with Citrine.

“Your witchy friend brewed me a sobering potion yesterday.” Kane interrupted my focus, voice low and velvety. “Will you thank her for me?”

If I had been in a storybook, steam might have billowed out of my ears. He knew how much their camaraderie bothered me, and I could see the pleasure he took in my frustration written plainly across his face. Smug, irritating, lying, piece of—

“And for what it’s worth—” His voice was close to my ear now as he bent toward me to whisper, his cedar and whiskey scent like a rush to my senses. “I spend time with Leigh because she’s lonely. She needs someone to take care of her.”

I didn’t bother to fix my livid expression. “I am taking care of her just fine.”

Our tense silence allowed Eryx’s words to drag my focus back. “After many years apart, my dear friend King Broderick will welcome us warmly, I’m sure of it. We need only take a few precautions beforehand to enter the capital city of Azurine.”

Ryder spoke up, gesturing to the whipping, open water surrounding the ship. “Enter? I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but there’s nothing for miles.”

I, too, scanned the sea around us. He was right, but there was no terror, no unease settling in my belly. The other passengers, however, erupted in murmurs of concern. Eryx’s beefy kingsguard stiffened slightly at the unrest breaking out across the deck, and the reddening king raised a single hand to quiet them. I couldn’t help looking to Kane, who only smirked, one dimple indenting his scruffy cheek.

“The Kingdom of Citrine is not visible to the naked eye,” Eryx said, louder now and less composed. “Because it is below us. Along the ocean floor.”