Chapter 12

chapter 12

Lizzie

The less said about the three days between the storm and washing up on the shores of Khollu, the better. What little luxuries we had were consumed by the waves, leaving only the bare food and water Maeve had strapped down. Neither of us has been much for conversation in the meantime. The trip was something to be endured as we fought our way in the general direction Maeve was certain we needed to go.

It would be convenient to blame our strained silence on nearly dying, but it wouldn’t be the truth. I knew better than to play a game of questions, knew better than to attempt to know this woman better. I’m leaving Threshold, and I don’t make a habit of crushing innocents, regardless of what my reputation says.

But Maeve intrigues me. More than that, I recognize the loss in her. I’ve never had something of such importance stolen—my family heirlooms hardly apply, though my mother might see it differently. It’s not just the loss of Maeve’s pelt that has harmed her; Bronagh broke her heart with his betrayal.

That’s monstrous, even to someone like me.

Catching sight of Khollu on the horizon is a welcome relief. As we row closer, battling the becalmed conditions that Maeve feared when we left Viedna, I get a better look at the island. It could be a rock sticking out of the sea, and I wouldn’t give a shit as long as it has a hot bath, but it’s rather beautiful.

It’s significantly larger than Viedna. At first, I think the color is a trick of the light, but as we get closer, I realize the island really is purple, courtesy of a thick forest that stretches along what bits of it I can see. Great, sprawling trees with leaves that look a bit like flowers, all in half a dozen shades of violet. It’s?.?.?. pretty.

It also makes my face itch as the wind shifts to blast us with a floral scent. I wrinkle my nose. “What the fuck?”

“You’ll get used to it—or so I’m told,” Maeve says wearily. “Help me row. I want a bath.”

“Agreed.” I readjust my grip on the oar—somehow not lost in the storm—and put my back into rowing us to the island as quickly as possible.

I’m pleased to note that there are half a dozen larger ships anchored in the bay. Plenty to choose from—and all are large enough that I should have an actual bunk to sleep in and possibly even access to a shower. Even better, not a single one of them has the crimson sails that mark C?n Annwn vessels.

It would be better to circle away from the bay and approach stealthily, but I don’t give a shit. Maeve doesn’t, either. We’re too intent on getting off this damned boat to worry about being sneaky. For once, I don’t even flinch when it’s time to hop into the water to haul the boat onto shore. It’s not as if my boots were dry in the first place.

My nose won’t stop itching, and I rub it furiously with the back of my hand. “How long does it take to get used to the smell?”

“Um.” Maeve ducks her head and pulls the boat a few inches higher onto the beach.

Suspicion flares. She’s absolutely avoiding my gaze, and I don’t like it. “Speak, selkie.”

“Usually by the first month from what I hear.”

A month?

I sneeze. “I’m going to burn this entire fucking island to the ground.”

“Of course you will. First, why don’t we find a room and bath?”

She’s patronizing me, but the offer is a good one. It would be too much effort to try to start that large of a fire, anyways. Everything is so damp in Threshold. I allow her to lead me away from the beach, down a winding path that’s roughly wide enough to drive a car—if Threshold had cars. There are a few crews unloading crates, but they don’t seem to pay much attention to us after an initial curious look. “We lost everything in the storm. We can’t pay for a bath or a bed or even dry clothes.” I’ve never considered myself to be particularly morose, but being damp for days on end will do that to a person.

“Let me worry about that.”

The sinus pressure gets more intense as we squelch our way down the path and to the village proper. It’s cold here—just as cold as back in Viedna, and as we walk, the gloomy clouds overhead open up and it starts snowing.

“I hate this place.” It should be illegal to have seasonal allergies and snow.

“Bath, Lizzie. Think of the bath.”

Since arriving in Threshold, I’ve visited dozens of islands with the crew of the Audacity. With few exceptions, they’re astonishingly mundane. Familiar even. Most of the population is humanoid to some extent, and apparently, while humans may flourish in a number of climates, there are certain consistencies among them. Gravity being one. Some of the islands are more fantastical, but Khollu appears to be of the former variety.

The snow is normal enough. It’s odd that the trees are so vibrantly purple, which seems like it should be a thing reserved for spring, but what do I know? I’m hardly a horticulturist. The air tastes like air. It’s all very normal for a realm that isn’t mine.

The village itself is formed of short domed buildings that seem designed to make the most of the heat within. I bet they do an excellent job of keeping the heat out, too, during the summer. We stop in the little square—or whatever the circular equivalent of a village square is. Even without knowing the written language, it’s easy enough to pick out the businesses that every one of these islands seems to have: tavern, inn, and a shop to resupply at.

I glance at Maeve. “Bath.” My hair is so tacky from the sea, I’m sure it’s standing on end. And I’m surprised I don’t crunch every time I move from the coating of salt on my skin.

She makes a face, wrinkling her nose in a way that I shouldn’t find charming but I most definitely do. “I promised you a bath, and a bath you will have.” She hesitates. “Let me do the talking.”

“As long as there’s hot water and a bed at the end of that conversation.” I follow her to the inn.

“Hello.” Maeve approaches the small pale man behind the counter. He’s perhaps four feet tall with a massive green beard that curls almost playfully. There are rings and small items braided into both his beard and the equally green hair that reaches his shoulders. It’s?.?.?. charming. How irritating.

Maeve leans on the counter and gives him a sweet smile. “Ralph, right?”

His smile doesn’t dim, but his expression sharpens a little. “I’m good with faces. Know everyone who’s been through my doors since I took over this business from my parents. I’ve never seen you before.”

I tense, but Maeve just laughs charmingly. “You’ve got a good eye. No, I’ve never been to Khollu before, but we have a mutual friend.”

If anything, his eyes narrow further. “Why do I get the feeling you’re about to ask for a discount?”

“Nox sent me,” she says simply.

Just like that, his irritation fades away. He looks at Maeve with new interest, pausing to give me the same cursory glance. “How is that one? Pain in my ass if I do say so myself.”

“Still a pain in the ass. Still fighting the good fight, if you know what I mean.” She holds out a hand. “I’m Maeve. My family runs the tavern in Viedna.”

“You’re Maeve. I see. I’ve heard plenty about you from our?.?.?. mutual friend.” He nods. “Well, I suppose I can put you up in a room, but it’s going on their tab. If you’re lying, I’ll let them hunt you down for repayment.”

I glance between them. Surely he’ll take more convincing than that? Maeve barely mentioned Nox and didn’t even use a code word or anything as far as I can tell. But there’s a bath in my near future, so I stay silent.

Maeve smiles, all sweetness and charm. “I don’t suppose you’ll throw in a bath and a meal or two for the cause?”

He snorts. “Can’t very well have you ruining my mattress with?.?.?.” His gaze flicks over our filthy clothing. “I’ll have my girl bring up something to change into. It’s not fancy, but it’ll do in a pinch. That’s the best I can do.”

“We appreciate it greatly. All of us.”

The room we’re led to isn’t much to look at, but it’s clean and has one narrow bed. There’s barely enough space to fit the copper bath that the innkeeper hauls in. He has more strength than I would’ve anticipated, and it makes me watch him warily. I should know better than to underestimate someone based on their appearance. I certainly don’t look like someone who could lift a small car, and yet I’m more than capable of it.

Neither Maeve nor I speak while we wait for the bath to be filled. Once again, I’m reminded of how spoiled I’ve been on the Audacity. Nox provides indoor plumbing and hot showers, so I’ve never had to worry about how someone heats the water when there’s no faucet. It’s definitely not an experience I look forward to repeating.

The innkeeper straightens with a huff. “There. The tub is spelled to clean the water and keep it at a reasonable temperature. Give a holler when you’re done.” He walks out the door and closes it behind him without waiting for a response.

“You can take the first bath. I’m going to look around,” Maeve says carefully.

I grab her wrist before she takes more than a single step. “Don’t think for a second that you’re leaving this room without me.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m hardly going to go steal a ship on my own and sail off without you.”

That wasn’t what I meant. It never even occurred to me that she would leave me behind. But we’re in a new place filled with strangers, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last couple weeks, it’s that the dangers of Threshold are infinite. Maeve is practically human, which means she’s practically defenseless. Gods, I met her when rescuing her after she was taken captive.

“We stay together.” Admitting that I’m worried about her feels too vulnerable. I’m not even sure how I feel about that worry. Maeve is no pushover, and she’s got that spine of steel, but she’s soft right down to her center. If she wasn’t, that bastard of a sailor never would have had a chance to take advantage; she would have seen him coming a mile away. People will look at her and see a mark. I won’t let it happen.

She glares at where I hold her wrist, but I don’t drop my grip. Finally, she sighs. “You’re being intentionally difficult and I don’t understand why.”

“It’s basic survival skills, baby. We stick together and watch each other’s backs.” I can’t help the hint of flirtation that weaves its way into my words. While I don’t normally hold myself back from taking what I want—and I sure as fuck want Maeve—there’s too many factors in play to be so careless with this woman. Her skin. My jewels. Our timeline. The last shouldn’t make a difference, and yet it is something that I’m considering all the same.

“Whatever you say.” She jerks her wrist out of my grip and walks over to the bed but seems to think better of sitting on the clean sheets a moment before she sits down. “Take your bath, Lizzie. I promised you one, and frankly, you stink.”

“Surprised you can smell me over your own rankness.”

“Yes, yes, I’m aware.” She waves a hand in my direction as she moves to the small window that looks out on the purple trees. Just seeing them makes my nose start itching, so I turn away.

I should let her take the tub first. It would be the kind thing to do, but I’m not fucking kind, and if I don’t get clean right this second, I might start screaming. Or I might truly set fire to those fucking trees. I sneeze again. “Damn it.”

“Lizzie.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

I’ll need to eat soon, too. It’s been long enough since I bit Maeve that hunger is a hollow pit inside me and creates a fine tremor in my hands. I had initially planned on finding someone in the village to feed from, but as I pull my shirt over my head and hear Maeve’s sharp inhale?.?.?.

The only person I’ll be feeding on is this adorable little selkie.

I’m willing to go hungry for a little while—until she comes to me. In the meantime, there’s no reason not to hedge my bets a little, to press my fingers to the scale in my favor. I peel off my pants and do away with my undergarments. I glance at Maeve out of the corner of my eye to find her pale skin has turned a deep crimson.

Oh yes, she’s watching.

I almost forget about the show I’m putting on as I slip into the hot water. I don’t mean to let out a little moan of pure pleasure, but there’s nothing like a hot bath after a hard journey. I dip under the water and scrub my fingers through my hair. The salt water feels like it’s crusted on my skin and into the strands, and I forget all about seduction as I grab the soap and begin to scrub it from my skin.

As I lift my hands to my hair, Maeve’s voice sounds from behind me. “Let me.”

I was so distracted, I hadn’t noticed her moving closer. That should concern me, but concern feels very far away as I hand her the soap and she sets to work washing my hair. Her touch is light yet firm, and if I didn’t know better, I would think that she’s merely doing a favor for a friend.

I do know better, though. My power is in the blood, and I can practically feel her racing heart against my palm, can sense the blood gathering as her desire grows, can hear her quickened breathing that she tries to suppress as she massages my scalp.

Patience is the only virtue I acknowledge, and it’s the only thing keeping me from pulling her into the tub with me to see what we can do about this mutual attraction. If Maeve was anyone else?.?.?. But she’s not anyone else. She’ll come to me on her own, and when she does, this wanting will be worth the reward of having her in my bed.

Even so, desire is a slow pulse inside me. Neither of us rushes, and Maeve certainly takes her time ensuring that every inch of my scalp and hair is clean. True to the innkeeper’s promise, whatever spell the tub contains keeps the water crystal clear and at a perfect temperature. I could stay in here for hours, but as much as I’m enjoying a return of creature comforts, I fully intend to reciprocate the favor Maeve bestowed on me.

I rise, droplets spilling down my naked body. Her sharp inhale is music to my ears. I hold out a hand. “Would you pass me a towel?”

Maeve stares for several beats too long before she gives herself a shake. “A towel. Of course.” She grabs one of the fluffy towels we’ve been provided and passes it to me.

“Your turn.” I twist away and begin drying myself off. As I suspected, it takes her a little while to work up the courage to strip, even though I’m not actively watching her. That doesn’t mean I’m not achingly aware of the slide of cloth against her skin and the soft footsteps as she moves to the bath and slips inside.

Her little moan has me turning, an offer to wash all of her on the tip of my tongue. There’s a knock on the door before I have a chance to. I swallow down a curse and wrap the towel around me to answer it.

A short woman—obviously related to the innkeeper, judging by her stout figure, pale skin, and deep green curls—stands there with a bag. She holds it up. “Here you go. There’ll be food served downstairs in about an hour.”

“Noted.” I take the bag, finding it heavier than I expected. I’m aware of Maeve listening, so I clear my throat. “Uh, thanks.” I close the door and waste no time digging through the bag. There’s two sets of clothing for each of us, and the sizing looks pretty accurate. “Who is this guy?”

“He’s with the rebellion.” Maeve rests her head on the side of the tub. “Most people I send north go straight to Khollu—to Ralph—and the reverse is true with him sending folks south through Viedna.”

I figured it was something like that, but it’s still a hell of a lot of faith to place in a near stranger. “That doesn’t change the fact that we’re fucked when it comes to resupplying.”

“Have a little faith, Lizzie.” Her eyes slide shut. “Why don’t you get dressed and go explore the village? It will burn off some of that nervous energy.”

“I don’t have nervous energy.”

“You won’t after you take a walk. Try not to draw any attention to yourself.”

I glare at the clear dismissal. One step forward, two steps sideways. She truly is cagey, but I don’t hold it against her. Not when I’m enjoying this strange little dance we’re doing, circling each other warily. I permit myself a small smile. “Trying to get rid of me so fast?”

I should have known better than to attempt to look my fill of her. The moment I do, I forget how to breathe entirely. This woman was made for the water. The bath barely covers her large breasts, and I’m delighted to discover that her freckles seem to extend over her entire body. I have the overwhelming desire to trace them with my tongue. Her curly hair spreads around her like particularly pretty seaweed. I’ve always seen selkies depicted as lean, pale skinned, and dark haired. I much prefer Maeve to those paintings.

Her blush spreads from her upper chest over her throat and takes up residence in her round cheeks. She holds my gaze as I stand there, only a towel, some water, and a crossable distance between us. The moment spins out, and I find myself holding my breath, waiting for her to invite me back into the bath.

But when she speaks, it’s to reiterate her request. “Please, Lizzie. I just?.?.?. I need a minute. Several minutes.”

Truth be told, after being trapped in a small space for nearly a week, almost dying in a storm, and finally being clean, I do need to stretch my legs. Just a little. I dig through the bag to find a pair of pants and a tunic-like shirt. There are even boots. The innkeeper truly did think of everything.

Even so, I don’t want Maeve to get the wrong idea. I’ll allow a little distance—for now. I pause with my hand on the doorknob. “This thing between us isn’t over.”

Her smile is a little shy and a little wicked. “I know.”