“Be safe.” It wasn’t the first time Eavha muttered the words, and Tierney had no response. This wasn’t a journey where safe was a possibility. They had to be daring, bold, brave. Safe could get them killed, or worse. It could lead them to failure, and a return to face the fae they let down.
So, instead of issuing false promises, Tierney hugged Eavha with all her might, wishing for another life in which they didn’t have to part. She wanted to take the princess to Iskalt with her, to introduce her to a world of peace, where children were allowed to play and young women danced and sparred, and laughed.
Pulling back, she gave Eavha one last look before turning to board the Wind Runner. A handful of sailors who’d volunteered for the journey prepared to set sail. It wasn’t enough. One didn’t have to be a seafarer to know that.
But she was grateful for every one of them.
“Look out below!” a voice called moments before Imogen dropped onto the deck, landing in a crouch and straightening in one smooth movement. Tierney lifted her eyes to the rigging above, wondering where the girl had come from.
Imogen grinned. “Just making repairs.”
Great, they hadn’t even set sail and the ship already needed repairs. Imogen intrigued Tierney. She’d recently lost her mother, and yet it didn’t seem to have dimmed her spirit. Unlike her father, whose trepidation was obvious, the coming adventure put a spark of excitement into her.
“Something wrong?” Tierney asked.
Imogen shrugged. “We’ll be fine.”
In Tierney’s experience, “we’ll be fine” was more a statement of hope than a point of fact.
Imogen left to join her father on the starboard side, and Tierney stepped up to the worn wooden rail circling the deck. Her eyes scanned the Grima coastline, wondering if this was the last time she’d set eyes on Lenya. It was a place of great pain for her but also one of discovery. She was a captive, a refugee, and now, possibly, their salvation.
It wasn’t the first time she considered maybe her portal brought her here for a reason. Maybe she was supposed to help Lenya.
Yet, it was also a place of shame.
Veren stepped up beside her, and Gulliver joined her on the other side.
“Siobhan could still be out there.” It wasn’t fair that the three of them had found each other and she hadn’t.
Gulliver’s tail wrapped around her back. “If she is, Declan’s fae will find her.”
Veren, standing perfectly still, surprised her when he spoke. “Is anyone else … sad? To be leaving.”
“No,” Gulliver and Tierney said at the same time.
“Not all of us were kept in luxury since day one.” Gulliver looked down at his hands, and Tierney wondered if the scars of the Vondurian dungeons would ever go away.
“I know.” Veren sighed. “It’s just …” He glanced back over his shoulder to where Bronagh was boarding the ship.
Tierney hadn’t understood, but she did now. Reaching out, she lay her hand over Veren’s. “She’s with you now.”
“And if we survive this, she will return home.”
Tierney had no words of comfort for him because right then she caught sight of Keir in an intense conversation with his sister down on the docks. They looked to be arguing before he pulled her into a hug and held on like he didn’t want to let go.
Releasing her abruptly, he clapped Declan on the shoulder, muttered a few words, and bound up the rope ladder and onto the ship. Tierney left Gulliver and Veren to approach Keir. “Everything okay?”
His brow furrowed. “We’re about to embark on a journey no one has conquered before. Our ship looks like it has seen better days, and I have to share a room down below with Veren and Gulliver.”
“So … yes?”
He gave her a reluctant smile, and she prided herself on pulling it out of him.
“But really, I meant with Eavha.”
His smile dropped. “Just Vondurian business.”
She wanted to press, but his expression closed off, and she knew she’d get nothing else.
“Everyone aboard?” Captain Michel yelled. “We need to set sail if we don’t want to miss the tide.”
Tierney searched their group. Veren and Gulliver were where she left them. Bronagh stood nearby, gazing across what was left of her kingdom. A few of her fae, guards mostly, took up position on either side of her, their golden armor glinting in the early morning sun.
A handful of Vondurians sat on crates near the door to the stairwell.
And then, there were the sailors, the fae who belonged on this ship.
Seemingly satisfied, Captain Michel gave the order to untie the ropes anchoring them to the dock.
The ship bobbed in the rippling water as a cool breeze skated across the surface.
“Oars,” the captain yelled.
His fae took up position and long wooden oars protruded from the ship, dipping into the water. And then, they were moving. There was no more second-guessing, no turning back.
Tierney walked toward the Grimian queen, the one who’d been against this risky journey. She’d eventually realized they had no other choices before them. Bronagh was a brave woman. Despite her fears, she’d agreed to set sail.
One of the golden warriors moved aside for Tierney to stand next to Bronagh and watch Grima disappear. Neither of them spoke for a long moment.
Finally, Bronagh’s voice filled the silence. “I sure hope you’re right about what’s on the other side of this sea.”
Tierney drew in a briny breath, letting it settle in her lungs before exhaling. “Me too.”
The first day at sea was a deception, one they’d expected. Calm waters greeted their journey, and as the winds picked up offshore, the captain ordered his fae to unfurl the giant canvas sails. They stored their oars and got to work directing the ship and keeping it steady.
The sails looked like a patchwork of tears, sewn together with odd colored canvas. Yet, they managed to propel the ship forward under the afternoon sun.
Out on the water, the temperature dropped. By nightfall, Tierney could hardly stand it. The only thing worse was going into the warmth down below that smelled like sweaty bodies and rotting sewage.
The ship was surprisingly large, with three cabins other than the main hold. One belonged to the captain and his daughter. The officer’s cabin had been given to Keir, but Tierney and Bronagh convinced him to share it with Veren and Gulliver. And the third was for Bronagh and Tierney.
The soldiers and sailors slept in hammocks in the cramped crew quarters.
Tierney sat on near the ship’s bow, surrounded only by stars. Noise came from the quarterdeck, where sailors gathered, but Tierney tuned them out, lifting her face to the sky.
“I’m coming home, Tobes,” she whispered into the night, wishing a breeze could carry her words. “I’m going to make it.” Through the maelstrom and across the uncrossable sea.
She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall, and feeling the night. Not merely hearing it or smelling it. Waves lapped against the ship. Cool, salty air, the freshest she’d ever experienced. Her magic settled within her, content and calm on the sea. Soon, she’d have control of it again.
Getting to her feet, she stepped to the rail and peered down at the dark water, the silver light of the moon casting it with an iridescent glow. In two days’ time, they would reach the first of the rough seas at the entrance to the Vale of Storms. Five days later, if their calculations were correct, the maelstrom.
And no one knew how long it would take to reach Iskalt should they survive that.
Tierney yawned, her chin lifting. If she was going to have any energy to face the coming days, she needed rest.
The smell hit her the moment she opened the door leading to the narrow wooden stairs. Stale air pushed out at her, and she had to fight the urge to stop breathing altogether.
Descending the creaky stairs, she headed toward the berth that promised her rest, but a sound coming from Keir’s room had her turning. It was … laughter.
The door was already ajar, and she pushed it open, stopping at the sight before her. A card game. Keir sat on the edge of the bed, bending over a small table. Veren perched in a shoddy chair, balancing on two legs. Gulliver was on the floor, cards clutched in his hands.
Veren and Gulliver shared a grin as Keir placed a new card down.
“I can beat that.” Gulliver slammed his hand down on the table, his cards face up.
Veren let out a hoot. “How’s it feel, your Majesty?”
“To lose at a game I’ve never played before?” Keir lifted a brow.
Tierney stepped into the room, but no one paid her any mind until she spoke. “Since when are you all friends?”
“We aren’t.” Keir frowned.
“Gross.” Veren crossed his arms.
“Since we proved the king here has a vulnerability after all.” Gulliver was the only honest one.
“Yeah?” She had to hear about that. “What is it?”
“Cards.” Gulliver grinned. “He’s actually terrible. He didn’t even know that the Eldurian crown beat the Fargelsi flame.”
“I hardly know what Fargelsi or Eldur even are.” Exasperation rang in Keir’s voice.
“A little tip,” Veren said, “Fargelsi flames are the weakest of the four flames. Everything beats it.”
“Wait.” Tierney peered closer. “Who had a Kingdoms deck?”
“I made one,” Gulliver said. “I found some Grimian game while we were there and needed a reminder of home.”
Kingdoms was a popular gambling game in Iskalt, not fit for a princess. Yet, she’d loved it. Her friends from the village let her join their games as long as no one found out. And when she was with Gulliver and Griff, they played all the time.
“Can I play?”
Gulliver and Veren let out simultaneous groans.
“Why can’t she play?” Keir asked.
It was Gulliver who answered. “Because she’s a freak.”
“Hey.” She wasn’t a freak.
Veren nodded in agreement. “She can’t lose. I don’t know how, but Tia wins. Always.”
“That can’t be true.” Keir looked from them to her. “There’s too much luck involved.”
“I don’t always win.” Tierney hugged her arms over her chest, trying to remember the last time she’d lost the game. She’d won many sweets over the years, the only thing her friends had to gamble with. But she’d always brought them pastries from the palace.
“Fine.” Gulliver sighed.
Veren picked up the deck and shuffled rapidly, his fingers nimble. “Guess his royal Majesty has to see for himself.”
Tierney sat beside Gulliver and met Keir’s eyes, a challenge in their depths. He wanted to beat her. Tough luck, buddy.
Her tongue poked out to wet her lips as Veren dealt eight cards. Keir’s gaze followed the movement, settling on her mouth. Did he want to kiss her as much as she wanted him to? Everything that happened to them in Vondur seemed like some distant past. It was a new world now.
Vondur and Grima were behind them. They wouldn’t reach Iskalt for a long while. No kingdoms were keeping them apart out here, only their egos.
“Are you two going to stare at each other all night or play?” Veren asked.
Tierney’s face heated as she realized they were waiting for her to pick up her cards. As soon as she did, she suppressed a grin. This was going to be fun.
Four games later and Tierney still hadn’t lost.
“I give up.” Keir threw his cards on the table.
“Told you.” Gulliver leaned back on his elbows. “She’s a freak.”
“Or I’m just exceedingly talented.” Tierney sent them a wink. The exhaustion she’d felt was gone now, and she wanted to move. Standing, she started toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Gulliver asked.
“Up top. I can’t stand another minute in this horrid room with you lot.” Really, she’d have stood a lot worse with them. She didn’t know when she’d started counting Veren as a friend again, but even his presence brought her comfort now.
It wasn’t until she escaped into the fresh air that she realized she wasn’t alone. Keir followed her silently, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. He stumbled as the boat swayed.
Tierney laughed, rolling her eyes. “We’ve been on the boat all day. Still not used to it?”
“Vondurians aren’t meant for the sea.”
“Neither are Iskaltians. We’re more suited to frozen tundra where we wrestle bears and fight wolves.”
His eyes widened. “Truly?”
“No.” She chuckled. “The frozen tundra part is true, but the other is just what some fae think of us.”
“I have no doubt you could take down a bear.”
“Well, thank you for your faith in me.” She peered over the edge. “What about creatures of the sea? In Lake Villandi, we have the Asrai, and they can be vicious, but I’ve heard stories of animals with razor-sharp teeth who can survive in the sea.”
“I try not to think about it.”
She turned to him. “Why? Is there something the great warrior king is afraid of?”
He met her gaze, hesitating for a beat before lowering his voice. “There are some things.”
Somehow, Tierney knew he didn’t mean whatever swam in the depths. Her gaze held his like a magic force kept her right where she was. His totem shone like a beacon where it hung from his neck, but the longer she watched him, the more it dulled.
“Keir.” She reached out to touch the crystal, the back of her fingertips brushing his chest. “When?”
“Yesterday.” He put his hand over hers. “I felt the moment the last of the magic drained from it.”
“Why didn’t you ask Bronagh for another?” In Vondur, he wouldn’t have had to ask.
“Tia, did you notice how almost no one in Grima used magic. I can’t remember seeing it there once.”
Tierney thought over her time there. Keir was right. “They’ve depleted their crystals entirely.”
“Not exactly. They do have precious few, but they do not use them unless necessary. And Vondur, I didn’t want to take a crystal that might be needed to save fae from the fire plains while we’re away.”
He had no magic. Without a crystal, there was none inside of him. She hadn’t noticed Bronagh with a totem either, which meant there wasn’t a single bit of magic on this ship.
“Why do you still wear a depleted totem?” she asked, drawing her hand away.
“Because it is a reminder. Even without magic, we still have power.” The words were for her and her alone because she understood all too well.
She hadn’t realized she’d stepped so close to him until she turned and her shoulder brushed his chest. “Why did you do it, Keir? Why did you save me those months ago in Vondur?” She’d never truly been able to answer that question. He killed his father, risked his life. For her. For Declan and Gulliver too, but not only them.
Keir turned, peering out at the calm water. A breeze blew the hair back from his forehead. “My fae needed a king with their best interests at heart.”
“But you never wanted that to be you.”
A breath rattled past his lips. “Tierney—”
“Say it, Keir.”
He pushed a hand through his hair and closed his eyes. “My father was an evil man. I’d known that for a long time, but it wasn’t until you … what he did to you. I hated myself for the role I played. It gave me the courage to act.”
“Why?”
“What do you want from me, Princess?” He turned hard eyes on her, his lips dangerously close to the side of her head. “I gave you your answer.”
“Not the full of it.” She faced him, the mist from his breath skating over her cheeks.
His eyes searched hers, looking for his own answers and most likely finding none. Tierney didn’t even have answers for herself. “I couldn’t bear the sight of you hanging,” he whispered. “I think it would have ripped me right open.”
Tierney would shred just as thoroughly should anything happen to him. She hadn’t planned on it, hadn’t wanted it, but whatever this was sitting between them in choked silence wouldn’t go away.
Reaching out, she gripped his arm, telling him it was okay to feel things. He didn’t have to be stoic and hide his emotions all the time. He could be a king and still be afraid.
Afraid of losing her.
Afraid of losing himself.
Afraid of failing the one position he’d never aspired to.
“Goodnight, Keir.” Tierney gave him a soft smile before turning and leaving him up on deck.
By the time she lay her head down beside Bronagh’s, wrapped in furs and burrowed into the hard bed, sleep dragged her into its depths like the sea coming to claim her as its own.