“Absolutely not.” Bronagh paced the length of her less-than-elegant room in the caverns. It wasn’t exactly fit for a queen, but nothing about this place was. “It can’t be done.”
Tierney sat quietly on the stone floor at the edge of the hearth, basking in the warmth from the ever-present fire. For once, she didn’t voice an opinion. She wasn’t sure she had one yet.
Keir let out a huff of exasperation as he faced off with the Grimian queen. “I think you’re wrong.”
“And you know so much about the Vale of Storms? Tell me, Vondurian, have you ever set foot on a ship?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Actually,” Veren put in, “that’s exactly the point. I agree with Bron on this one. Those old coots are just looking for a grand adventure, but they’ll end up with a lung full of briny water and fish pecking out their eyes at the bottom of the sea.”
“Nice visual,” Tierney muttered.
Veren shot her a wink, looking for just a moment like the charming snake of a boy she’d known in Iskalt. It brought her a strange bit of comfort.
Bronagh drew in a breath, as if calming herself. When she spoke, her tone was measured, careful. “When we began construction on the ship meant for this purpose, we consulted every shipbuilder in Grima. There were five of them, and they were all in agreement on what was needed to cross this particular sea.”
“And how would they know?” Tierney hadn’t realized she’d spoken until every eye fell on her. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think what Keir is saying is completely insane, but no one has survived the maelstrom, right?”
“Not that we know of.” Bronagh nodded.
“This captain…”
“Michel,” Declan supplied.
Tierney continued. “Captain Michel, he’s come close.”
“As close as anyone living.” Keir lowered himself to the settee, his eyes on Tierney.
“So he says.” Veren shook his head.
“Hush,” Eavha snapped at him. “Tierney is working through something here; let her think.”
She was grateful for Eavha’s faith in her, faith in the knowledge Tierney would have all the answers. But the truth was, she was as lost as ever. Was this her way to return home? Or just another way to die?
They all sat around the queen’s rooms. Bronagh still on her feet, Veren at her side. Eavha and Declan sat together across the hearth from Tierney, their shoulders brushing. Gulliver was silent beside Keir on the settee.
Gulliver met Tierney’s eyes in a silent argument.
Don’t, he seemed to say.
I think we might have to.
Tia, this isn’t one of your adventures. It’s dangerous.
She sighed and shot him a look that said, Everything we do here is dangerous. I don’t want to die by the heat of the fire plains.
Wouldn’t that be the cruelest fate of all? The ice princess, who’d always fought for her independence, burning from the inside out as she yearned for her family and the protection she’d always scorned.
Tearing her eyes from Gulliver, she inched away from the hearth, no longer finding comfort in its warmth. When she glanced around the room, she found Eavha watching her with worry in her eyes, Veren studying her.
And Keir, his gaze was the worst. Imploring. Seeking. He needed her to be on his side in this, not to win but to give his fae a chance. There was desperation there.
“Well, we might die,” she said.
“Precisely.” Bronagh crossed her arms over her chest. “The seas are unforgiving. Without the proper ship—”
Tierney cut her off. “But won’t we die if we do nothing at all?”
The queen closed her mouth, and a heaviness settled over the room. These were their choices, and each looked as bad as any other.
Bronagh pinched the bridge of her nose. “I need to think. Can you all please leave?”
Tierney picked herself up from the floor and followed the others out into the hall. She slipped her arm through Gulliver’s and pulled him to catch up with Keir. “My room.” The words were barely a breath, but she knew he’d heard them by the way he stiffened and issued one abrupt nod.
The hour grew late as they navigated the network of caves, and only a few fae remained awake, mostly guards going about their duty. It didn’t slip Tierney’s notice that the guard rotations doubled in size the day Eavha and Declan arrived with a host of Vondurians. The entire place felt ready to explode into battle.
Tierney yanked Gulliver into her room, shutting the door behind them. They’d left Keir to talk to Declan and Eavha for a moment, but he’d arrive soon. “We need to leave this place.” She flopped onto the bed she shared with Eavha and groaned.
Gulliver perched on the corner of the hard mattress. “At least they keep the fires burning.” He gestured to the hearth. “I’ve lived in worse places.”
Sometimes, Tierney forgot Gulliver grew up in the prison realm before the magic barrier came down. He’d been born to a life of drudgery and starvation in a place where a hearth would have been life’s grandest luxury.
Tierney lifted her head. “I miss home.”
Gulliver’s face fell. “Yeah, I miss my dad.”
“We’ve been treated well in Grima, but I think our time here is over. Not only ours … if we don’t get the Vondurians out of here, I’m afraid of what will happen.”
He didn’t speak for a long moment. “We’ve heard stories of the NAME sea, Tia. Do you really think we can cross it?”
She sat up, reaching for his hand. “Since when has there ever been anything we can’t do?”
He gave her a squeeze, his tail lifting to tap her wrist. “Now, you’re that ten-year-old girl again.”
“With one major difference.”
He didn’t need to ask her what that was. “Your magic.”
She sighed. “I need my brother, Gulliver. I need to return to him. I never fully understood it before. We knew he amplified my power, but now I think he is my power. Just like the totems are for Lenyans. It doesn’t work without him. I will do anything, face any risk, to return to him.” And not just for her magic.
A knock at the door interrupted them before Eavha barged in. “You don’t have to knock, Keir. It’s my room too since we’re all packed into these caverns.”
Keir and Declan followed her in.
To Tierney’s surprise, it was Gulliver who spoke first. “Okay, Mr. Majesty, we’re in.” He met Tierney’s gaze, but this time there was no argument between them, only gratitude. His eyes told her he’d do anything to get them back home too.
“In?” Declan looked confused.
Keir nodded, his expression matching Tierney’s determination. The two of them weren’t so different. Maybe that was why there was a tension between them, a rage right underneath the surface. It wasn’t for each other, but only their circumstances.
This time, they were on the same side.
“No.” Eavha gasped. “Tierney, it’s a death sentence.”
“But what if it’s not?” And as they’d said before, staying was also a death sentence.
A smile curved one side of Keir’s mouth. “Yes, what if it’s not?”
The hike down from the caverns wasn’t easy on a normal day, but this morning, the narrow stone steps were slick with rain—an icy blast that soaked through Tierney’s clothes, chilling her to the bone. She didn’t think she’d ever been so cold, even in Iskalt.
What she wouldn’t give for a warm fire in her mother’s rooms, a fur wrapped around her shoulders, and one of her mother’s human hot chocolates.
Instead, she was traipsing through the mountains of a foreign kingdom.
From her favorite vantage point high in the caves, she hadn’t been able to view the nearest fishing village, but Keir told her it wasn’t far once they reached the bottom of the pass. The treacherous climb was the reason Grimians were mostly safe in their caverns.
Tierney hardly slept the night before. She tossed and turned in bed until Eavha finally hit her over the head with a pillow and told her to stop. After that, Tierney found her way to the library, if one could call it such. It looked almost like a war room, with maps lining the walls and a few bookcases holding precious leather tomes, the few that were saved from the palace.
One of the maps showed the expanse of the Vale of Storms with an unnamed land across it that she guessed was Iskalt. It showed the swirling maelstrom, the rough waters. But she wondered how accurate it could have been when no one was known to have traveled that route.
Her foot slipped, and a yelp escaped her, but a firm grip on her arm kept her upright. Keir.
It was only the two of them this morning. They’d left before the rest of the palace woke, before Bronagh could convince them it was a bad idea.
Keir’s grip didn’t loosen, and Tierney looked back at him.
He released her immediately with a gruff, “Be careful.”
Tierney’s breath was shallow the rest of the descent. When she hit the bottom, air rushed into her lungs, and she wanted to kiss the ground underneath her feet.
Glancing up, she saw how far they’d come, how far back up they’d have to climb. A lump lodged in her throat. She could do it. Why were there so many ways to die?
Keir wiped rain out of his eyes. “Come on. The village isn’t far.”
Drops of water dripped from her lips as she blew out a breath and followed him.
By the time they reached the village, her entire body was stiff with cold. She heard the docks before she saw them. Fishermen yelled to each other from the riggings as they prepared to head out for the day. Weather didn’t stop them.
Most of the sails hadn’t yet been raised, creating an eerie feeling. She’d never been around ships without the constant flapping of canvas in the wind.
“Veren said most of the captains breakfasted at the Lucky Goose while their fae prepare their ships.”
“By breakfast, you mean—”
“Ale, most likely.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course.”
“Maybe cider on a day like today.”
“What ever happened to fae drinking water?”
Keir flashed her an uncharacteristic grin. “Says the woman who likes her wine.”
She shrugged. It was true. “Iskaltian wine, though. Not your Vondurian swill.”
He ignored her comment. “Ale and cider can be easier to come by in these parts than water fit for drinking. It’s less likely to make one sick.”
Behind the docks were a line of warehouses and taverns. Beyond that, ramshackle houses leaned together, as if they’d fall without holding each other up.
It wasn’t hard to find the Lucky Goose. A wooden sign swung as rain pelted it above a half-open door. Chatter spilled out as they neared. Tierney wasn’t sure what she expected to find this early in the morning, but it wasn’t a tavern full of loud men and women chatting animatedly and laughing.
As if sensing her surprise, Keir leaned in. “Those who work on boats are a different sort.”
They stepped in out of the rain. No one paid attention to the newcomers or the puddles dripping at their feet. It was so very different from back home. When she walked into a tavern near the Iskalt palace, everyone knew.
“He’s in the back.” Keir wound around tables to a bald man who looked like he’d been sucked into the maelstrom and spit right back out.
“Captain.” Keir gave a respectful tilt of his head.
The man looked up, surprise etched into his face. “Why, if it isn’t the enemy king. What can I do you for, young man?”
Keir slid into a seat opposite him. “First, you can keep it under wraps who I am.”
The man mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key.
“This is Tia.” Keir gestured for her to sit in another empty chair. “Tia, meet Captain Michel.”
“Pleasure, Tia.” He pretended to remove a cap that wasn’t on his head.
Tierney liked the man already, but it didn’t escape her notice that Keir failed to tell him just who Tierney was. She could use that to her advantage.
“Captain,” Tierney rested her hands on the table, “Keir tells me you’ve come closer to the maelstrom than anyone in Grima.”
“Grima or Vondur.” He grinned, his vanity successfully stroked. “No one dares stray as far from shore as my ship can handle.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I built her for speed but also stability. The trick is not to spend longer than one needs in rough waters. Get in, get your fish, get out.”
“And the maelstrom?”
His brow furrowed. “Well, not even I have ventured that far, but we have stories. Waves so big it’s like trying to sail up a waterfall, wind so harsh it’ll rip a sail right to shreds, if the hull hasn’t splintered and dashed to the bottom of the sea first. I would love to see it just once in my life.” He sighed, a wistful smile on his face.
This was the moment. Tierney met Keir’s gaze, and he gave her a nod. She leaned forward. “What if you could?”
Time froze as the captain stared at her. And stared some more. Red crept into his cheeks. “All of this …” His breath stuttered on the way out. “All these questions … You’re not asking me to …”
“Sail through the maelstrom?” Tierney said. “Yes, we are.”
Captain Michel shot to his feet. “Are you insane?” His words were so loud all nearby chatter stopped, all eyes turned on them. “All this talk … It was a fantasy, not supposed to be real. You can’t possibly think there’s a fae in Grima who’d risk it.” He stormed toward the door.
Tierney and Keir jumped up to follow him. This wasn’t exactly going as planned.
As they ran into the rain, a barmaid yelled at Captain Michel that he didn’t pay.
“Put it on my account,” he hollered back, his steps never faltering.
For an old man, he sure was fast. He reached a boat slip and hauled himself onto a ship that looked just as weathered and tested as him. A handful of sailors shouted greetings.
Tierney knew enough not to board a boat she wasn’t invited onto. She stood on the dock and yelled to him. “Is it possible?”
He stopped, the rain bouncing off his head. “I don’t know.”
“Coming aboard!” A woman pushed by Tierney and Keir, bounding with shocking agility onto the ship. She pressed a kiss to the old man’s cheek, and Tierney could barely catch their conversation.
“I heard you caused a commotion in the Goose.”
“That was my fault,” Tierney called.
The woman turned to her, and Tierney saw just how young she was. She couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve. Not a woman, just a tall willowy girl. “And who are you?”
Tierney was tired of trying to convince fae to save their kingdom without them knowing the full truth. “My name is Tierney O’Shea. I’m a princess from the kingdom on the other side of that maelstrom. And I want to sail through it to get home, but also because if we don’t, all of Lenya could be lost.”
Keir cursed under his breath, but the captain and the girl looked on with wide eyes.
Tierney cleared her throat. “But you can call me Tia.”
“Well,” the girl started, “you should probably come aboard.”
“Imogen.” There was a warning in the captain’s voice.
“Da, we owe it to Mama.” She twisted a wet lock of blazing red hair around one finger.
The captain closed his eyes for a brief moment. “Fine. We’ll listen to you.”
Tierney took that as an invitation and climbed aboard. Keir followed her, still not saying a word. It was probably for the best. A few sailors gave them quizzical looks, but Tierney ignored them as she followed Imogen down a set of narrow stairs to where a handful of rooms branched off. They turned left into a kitchen of sorts with long wooden benches.
A young man glanced up from where he’d been messing with the stove. The captain waved a hand, and he scurried out.
“I’d offer you some tea, but this can’t take long because we need to head out soon.” He lowered himself to one of the benches.
Tierney sidled up next to Imogen. “You mentioned your mother?”
The young woman nodded, wet stringy hair clinging to her cheeks. “This is about the fire plains, isn’t it?”
“Imogen, don’t,” her father pleaded.
Tierney turned to face the girl, taking in her ruddy skin, the way her eyes held no fear. “It is. If we do not act, they will destroy Lenya.”
“I knew it.” Imogen didn’t look pleased with herself. “What other reason would someone risk crossing the vale?”
To get home. But Tierney didn’t say that.
Imogen glanced at her father almost in apology. “The fire plains destroyed our village a few days’ ride from here. Da was out on the ship. First came the sickness from contaminated water. When the heat came, Mama was too sick to go, but she told me to run.”
Tierney’s heart ached for this family, for all the families destroyed by the fire plains. She bent so she was at eye level with the girl. “Across the sea is my kingdom. It’s called Iskalt. There, we have all the magic needed to drive the fire plains back, to make sure that doesn’t happen to anyone else. But we need to get there.”
Imogen turned to her father. “Since I was little, you’ve dreamed of going farther and farther, of discovering what lay on the other side.”
“It can’t be done.” Captain Michel rubbed his face.
“I thought you said you didn’t know if it could.” Keir shifted his feet, staring down at the man.
Tierney watched them both. “Just because something has never occurred doesn’t mean it can’t.”
Captain Michel looked helplessly from Keir to Tierney to his daughter.
Imogen sat beside him. “Da, what if we could have saved her? Would you have thought it too impossible to try then?”
A beat of stillness passed before his shoulders dropped. “No, I’d have done anything to save your mother.”
“Then, let’s try to save other mothers, children, our way of life. There is a reason this princess and her guard have walked into our lives.”
Tierney almost laughed at Keir being called a guard.
“Honey,” Captain Michel said, “that man is a king.”
Her brows shot to her hairline. “We’ve been chosen to help, to escort the likes of kings and princesses across the sea, a sea that is our home. You are the best captain in Grima. They need you.”
Captain Michel looked at his daughter, pride shining in his eyes, before meeting Tierney’s gaze. “My daughter wants to help, and who am I to stop her?” He stood. “I will not force my men to go on such a perilous journey. Volunteers only. Which means, every person on this ship will have to work.”
Tierney nodded, a smile coming to her lips. She couldn’t wait to see Veren mopping the deck or cleaning the lav. But more than that, it felt real.
They might never make it, but at least now they had a chance.