Chapter 10

Commander Johannes, Messer's father, shakes Captain Wren's hand then Kai's, looking as self-righteous as the bastard can get. "I hear congratulations are in order." He looks at me, taking in my newly appointed guard uniform, then turns his attention back to the men at my side.

His wife, Danuh, on the other hand, takes my hands in hers. "I look forward to seeing you on the committee," she says, referring to the group of commanders' wives who plan all of Alaha's activities.

I hadn't given it much thought, but it makes sense that it would be expected of me to participate. Pasting on a smile, I thank her, grateful when she releases her hold on me.

It's graduation day. The Main is becoming more and more crowded the closer it gets to the start of the ceremony. Graduates are escorted by their families. Due to my lack of relatives, Kai invited me to arrive with his parents. It would have been rude to say no.

Messer grins at me, his eyes raking over my uniform. "Looks good on you."

I tug on the material, hating how tight and itchy it is. "Yours too. Your sword looks extra shiny."

He looks down at the hilt exposed at his side with a proud appreciation in his gaze. "My parents had it polished and sharpened for me as a graduation gift. "

Then I see it again, more bruising down the side of his neck in the perfect shape of fingerprints. I clench my teeth and look away, my eyes landing on Messer's mother. It wasn't what I intended, but the anger and disgust must radiate from my gaze, because Kai bumps me with his elbow.

"You're coming, right?"

I shake my head, catching up to the conversation about the dinner following the graduation ceremony on the veranda. "I can't. I have a meeting with the dressmaker."

I'm late getting fitted, so I'm cutting it too close to miss.

"If there is dinner," Commander Johannes says. "Callom raised the blue flag this morning."

"Oh no," Faline mutters.

Blue is the worst of the flags, meaning a terrible storm is coming.

Danuh waves a hand in the air. "Callom is a worrywart. He often puts up warnings out of an abundance of caution."

Faline doesn't look convinced. "We can only hope," she says, looking to the overcast sky. "The Matching Ceremony is in three days."

Of course that's her biggest concern. A blue flag alert doesn't just warn of wind and rain, but rather the kind of storm that often causes the sea level to flood the bottom story of the grove, sometimes two, and the brigs are sure to be the first to go under.

"I'm sure everything will be handled before then," Captain Wren says.

He sees another high-ranking commander and excuses himself and Faline, but his words hang in the air as I watch him walk away. We mingle for a while longer before taking our place.

My class is lined up across the middle of the Main. Our family and friends stand opposite us, applauding after each student is called to receive their pin. It's a circle of metal we'll affix to our shoulder while we're on duty to signify the history of the armor the Alaha would wear during battle.

Every inhale feels like a feat in itself.

Captain Wren calls the next student, Joel, and my eyes trail my classmate's movements, gaze colliding with Kai's on the other side of the Main. All seventeen of the high-ranking commanders stand shoulder to shoulder to shake the hands of each graduate after they're pinned. Kai stands last as the youngest until Messer takes his place next year alongside him.

Wren has to all but yell over the howl of wind as it picks up strength. The sky above is turning darker by the minute, and I swear I feel a raindrop or two pelting my skin every now and then.

Wren's comment about everything being handled before the Matching Ceremony leaves a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. If Callom is right, which he often is when it comes to his predictions, there's not a chance Acker will survive in the brig. I don't think Wren has any intention of letting the Kenta soldier go, not with the way the guards removed Kai's weapons before letting us in to see him. They're scared of him. It'd be too risky to let him out.

Aurora elbows me in the side. "Pay attention."

My eyes snap to Captain Wren's, and I realize he's said my name at least twice by the look on his face. My stomach churns as I force my legs to move. If I were to unclench my teeth, I'd hurl in front of everyone.

"Brynn," the captain says, smiling when I stand before him. He slips the pin onto my shoulder, and I pray he doesn't feel my heart pounding through the fabric of my shirt. "Congratulations."

I dip my head in acknowledgment, not trusting myself to open my mouth. I continue on to the commanders and begin moving down the line. Most of the handshakes are half-hearted, a formality they're forced to endure, but a few make a point to at least look me in the eye. Kai's presence looms larger the closer I get.

Then I'm standing in front of him, meeting the gray eyes so like my own. Open and inviting and warm. Familiar. Like home. He holds his hand out, and I try to hide the shake in mine as I slide my palm into his.

"Congratulations, Brynn," he says, gaze steady.

Calm washes over me, easing the tension in my teeth. He holds my hand longer than necessary, but I don't let go, welcoming this moment of comfort from him. I've waited for this day for what feels like my entire life, and I can't escape the feeling of despair hanging over me.

I somehow manage to make it through the rest of the ceremony. The captain finishes his speech, and the crowd disperses. Kai and his father are swarmed, and Messer finds me leaning against the bridge's railing.

He nudges me with his shoulder. "Everything okay?"

I shake my head. It's not possible to describe exactly what it is I'm feeling, but I know for a fact not everything is okay.

Releasing a breath, he clasps his hands over the rail, looking out over the water. "My parents finalized my match," he says .

"Oh, yeah?" I say, trying to gauge his emotions. "And?"

"It's Aurora."

I'm speechless.

I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this. Not Aurora, the daughter of a fisherman with no history of the guard. They have no rank and no money, nothing of value to negotiate a marriage of Messer's notoriety.

"Are you…happy…with it?" I stutter out, shocked.

He gives a little shrug. "I suppose I'll never be bored." Looking at me, he smiles, but it's dimmer than usual. "I'm just looking forward to getting out of my parents' place and into my own."

Understanding dawns, and I smile back at him. "You deserve to be happy, Messer."

"As do you, B," he says with a sad and knowing smile.

After the Matching Ceremony, I'll be forced to leave my shiel on Urchin Row to live with Kai in the center of the grove. It's a sacrifice I'm required to make to create room for any unmatched after the ceremony, but it also means losing my favorite spot.

I enjoy spending my nights drawing on my roof. It may not be much, but it's mine. Well, mine and the bird's, and I don't want to share him with the new occupant of my current home. If they don't scare him away, that is.

A strong gust of wind comes off the sea. Decorations strung between the trees snap, sending their strings and banners into the branches and leaves. People begin to depart to avoid the incoming weather.

When I look out over the churning water, I spot something different. "The boat," I say, looking at Messer. " It's gone."

He follows my gaze north to where the ship was posted, the space now vacant.

We make a beeline for Captain Wren and Kai and point out the missing ship. Wren isn't pleased, face flushing with annoyance as he asks his third in command why no one informed him. Messer's father doesn't have a good answer, which only serves to anger Wren more.

"Dinner is canceled," Captain Wren declares. "Everyone gather whatever food and supplies they may need to make it until morning. It looks like we're in for a rough night."

Everyone is prompt in their departure. Messer leaves with his mother, but I wait for Kai to finish conversing with his father and fellow commanders by the nearest stairs. We don't speak until we're safe from someone overhearing, pausing on the empty path where it forks in the direction of Kai's home and continues on to mine.

"He's going to kill the soldier," I say.

"He hasn't said it, but yes," he says, tendrils of hair breaking loose from their tie. "He's instructed all the guards to vacate their post once the swells reach ten feet."

By the look of the water now, that'll be within a couple of hours.

"Did you ever gather any more intel from him?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing more than what he revealed to you."

I don't like it. Letting him die…for what? "Surely he didn't come all this way just to apologize," I say.

Kai cocks his head to the side, eyes going to the horizon through the trees before he looks back at me, defeated. "Go back to your shiel. Close your shutters and hunker down. It looks like it's going to be a doozy."

We wait for a family to pass before sneaking a quick kiss, making plans to meet first thing in the morning.

Today should have been full of celebration and excitement, finally accomplishing what I've worked for since the age of thirteen, but a heavy weight sits on my shoulders. It's like the clouds were an omen from the moment I woke up. The ship is gone now and there's nowhere safe to hide a fugitive in the grove. Not without getting caught.

Wait.

I stop within feet of my door at the realization. There's exactly one place no one will look.

No. I couldn't possibly. I mean, there's no way I trust him enough to hide him with me.

Turning back toward the path to the south tower, I contemplate my options. There's a chance I won't even make it in time. Hell, there's a chance I won't make it at all with the size of the white-capped waves below. But the alternative…

Dang rabbits.

I sprint to the tower, telling a guard I run into along the way that I'm making a last-second run to get lamp oil. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and I strip off my uniform vest when I finally reach the end of the grove. The water looks angry, but I'm confident in my abilities to reach the ladder to the cross sections under the Main.

I do so without issue, but the real problem is the slickness of the beams, which are coated with a thin layer of seafoam. Some of the waves cover them long enough for me to lose sight of my steps, so it takes me twice as long to reach him .

With a foot of water already flooding the space, he trudges to my side of the cell, fingers gripping between the stacked stones. His expression is unreadable.

I slap my hands on the stones in an effort to stop myself from sliding from the ledge. "Tell me something, anything to convince me to help you."

He shakes his head. "I can't."

I groan. "Because of this alleged blood oath?"

"No," he says, voice tired and hoarse. "I'm never going to tell you something just to benefit myself."

"Not even if it means saving your life?" I ask, stunned.

He shakes his head again. "No."

A wave rolls high enough to reach my waist, and it takes all the strength in my fingertips to keep hold. I brace my forehead against the stones and consider my options, knowing there are only two outcomes.

"Look at me."

The command in his voice compels me to meet his gaze through a gap in the wall. He has his palms braced against it, putting him eye level with me. Nothing but patience and understanding shine back, his expression at complete odds with the storm raging around us.

Judging by the panic filling my lungs, one would think it was my life on the line, not his.

"I don't believe you came all this way to watch me drown."

I hate the small shake of my head I give to him in answer.

"Then we're wasting time." He says it as collected as ever, as if he has all the time in the world and is waiting for me to catch up.

This is madness.

"I'll try," I tell him. I'll try to break him out .

The ocean surges up from below, a deep rolling wave that forces us to become buoyant, treading water to keep our heads above the surface. It sends me careening back, the current wanting to drag me out to sea, but I swim against the stirring water to the other side of the brig.

It's only seconds but feels like eternity before the water recedes and I'm able to climb onto the dock. It takes longer for the water to drain through the gaps in the cell. Acker is trapped within the surge until the water finally leaves, dropping him to the hard ground of the brig, his chains rattling against the stones.

I yank on the iron handle of the door, but the latch doesn't budge.

"The dagger," Acker says, wobbling into a stance. "Where's the dagger?"

I open and close my mouth before I'm able to spit it out. "I threw it in the ocean."

He nods, quick to accept the truth, like he expected as much. "It's okay. You can call it."

I don't have time to ask him what the hell he's talking about before a rogue wave overtakes us, covering our heads this time. I clutch the handle of the door to stop the wave from sweeping me away, holding my breath for nearly a minute before it finally recedes.

For Acker, it's longer, and he sucks in a large breath when he emerges from inside his cell. "You can call it because it belongs to you." He stumbles into an awkward stance, chest expanding with each intake of air. "I can't explain right now, but it will answer your summons."

A smaller wave makes us float for a few seconds before dropping back down. We're on borrowed time. Once the tide comes in, this entire story will be underwater within minutes.

Acker's shackled hands land on mine, gripping the bars in the window of the door. "It's a part of you, but not. Close your eyes."

I obey without question.

"Feel for it. Reach out like you're picking it up from where you dropped it, like it's right there before you."

This feels insane, but I pretend I'm standing on solid wood that's not covered in three feet of water. It just feels silly, like I'm wasting time instead of figuring out a way to break the latch on the door. I can feel another wave coming, and I hold my breath so I can continue my search underwater. Floating inside the wave without the roaring wind or Acker's piercing gaze, I find a semblance of calm within my mind and cling to it, encasing myself in it.

Everything becomes still. It's like time stops and the sea calms and I'm able to see the ocean floor. In my mind's eye, I skim over the sandy bottom, sending fish scurrying into the pitch black. It's desolate and barren. My lungs begin to burn. Silt clouds my vision as I hurry, as if I'm actually walking on the ocean floor, but there's—

There it is.

Lying on its side, half covered in sand. I reach and pick it up, closing my fist tightly.

I gasp when the water falls, marveling at the actual dagger in my hand, excited when I meet Acker's awaiting eyes. "I found it."

His answering smile sends a spark of emotion through me. Despite the hunger and exhaustion lining his features, he's still handsome .

"Use it to break the seal on the door."

The what ?

Another wave pulls us under. It goes on for so long it begins to feel like the world has no end and the sea has no bottom. It takes longer this time, and we both suck in greedy air when it drops away.

"What seal?" I ask as soon as I can breathe.

"There's a seal on the door, but the stone of the blade can break it."

That's all he gets out before we're under water again. I don't know what to do, but I open my eyes and find the crack between the door and the cell wall through the haze. Sticking the blade in the gap, I search for something tangible like a latch but come up empty.

Anxiety takes over when my lungs begin to burn. Acker's hands closed over mine are the only things preventing me from letting go and kicking for the surface.

Letting go would mean I'd be leaving him for dead. It's not an option I'm willing to accept. For some reason beyond my understanding, I know I could never live with myself if I didn't give everything I have to save him, even if it costs me my life in turn.

The water takes longer to drain from the brig, and I wait with bated breath for Acker to break the surface. He's not able to hold his as long as I can, and his gasp is punctuated with desperation.

His fingers tighten over mine. "Jovie." He forces it out between breaths. Water coats his eyelashes, falling onto his cheeks. His skin is alabaster, the rich color of his cheeks that day in the Market long gone, making his already dark eyes all the more intense. "That's your name, your real name—Jovie. "

There's goodbye in his tone.

I shake my head.

Then he starts to peel my fingers away from the metal bars.

"No." If I'm saying it to him or myself, I'm unsure, but I keep returning my grasp to the bars. Another wave and impossible wait ensues, and it's dark and cold under the water.

Acker's fingers are adamant now, pulling my hand away as I put up an equal fight, refusing to let go. I keep my eyes open, focused on the task at hand. The blade swings back and forth in the crack, but I can't find the latch. Pressure builds inside my head as I fight the instinct to suck in a hopeless breath, knowing I'd kill myself within seconds when my lungs filled with salt water instead of air.

Acker slams his hands against mine, but I hold on, jamming the blade in deeper.

There it is.

Like striking swords, the metal vibrates from the impact. Then the door gives, the force of an underwater current pulling it the rest of the way open for us. We reach for the other in our desperation before swimming for the surface.

Up and up and up.

My intake of air is a loud cry of relief. Acker's even more so, but there's no time to relax. We struggle our way onto the roof of the brig, and only then do we allow ourselves a moment of reprieve to breathe.

Acker hacks up water, basking in the oxygen flooding his lungs with the next inhale. Howling wind tears through the trees, sending leaves down with it. The wall of storm clouds is rolling in like it's bringing the night itself with it.

I eye the chains around his wrists.

Noticing the direction of my thoughts, he holds up the shackles and pulls, muscles straining as he struggles. Metal splinters apart and into the water. He falls forward, catching himself on his hands.

I'm stunned, unsure how that's even possible.

I eye the surf. "How good of a swimmer are you?"

He looks out over the rolling sea, chest still heaving in exertion. "Guess we're about to find out."