If Keir had to stay down here breathing this foul air for one moment longer, he was going to march right up those stairs and jump off the side of the ship, hoping to swim all the way to Iskalt.
Who would willingly subject themselves to a ship’s constant turmoil when they didn’t have a kingdom to save?
“Keir.” Imogen rushed toward him as soon as she saw him in the hall. “Are you sure you should be out of bed?”
With such cramped quarters, those on the ship had gotten to know each other quite well, and all formality had flown right over the side of the wretched vessel. Even Bronagh’s soldiers had taken to calling her by her given name. It was as if, out here, they were all equals.
“I’m fine, just …” He drew in a struggling breath. “Need sky.” To see it, to smell it. The rains had finally stopped, the drumming against his skull coming to a blissful halt.
Imogen pursed her lips. “Tia was clear. You aren’t allowed to leave your quarters.”
Of course she’d given that command. She was the most stubborn, irritating, capable, beautiful fae he’d ever known. Wow, the sickness had addled his brain. “Tia is not your king.”
Imogen crossed her arms, her young face twisting into a smirk. “And neither are you. I am Grimian. I recognize no king of Vondur.”
Keir let out a groan. “Are you going to help me or watch as I try to climb those steps, tumble back down, and break my neck?”
She cast a dubious glance from him to the steps before sighing. “Fine. But if Tia asks, you threatened me.”
His lips twitched. The girl was scared of Tierney. He knew the feeling.
Imogen ushered him toward the stairs, one arm around his waist. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, Keir, but you reek.”
“You don’t exactly smell pleasant yourself.” They’d all been stuck on this boat for days, sweating in the damp, muggy air. It made him long for the cold of the Grima mountains or the ice he knew was coming for them in Iskalt.
At the top of the stairs, Imogen opened the door and blessed sunlight poured in, a welcome change from the past few dark and stormy days. Keir gulped fresh air, his feet stumbling as Imogen released him.
“Imogen,” Captain Michel called. “I need you up fixing the sails.”
Not wanting to slow down as they approached the maelstrom, they hadn’t lowered the sails for repairs. It was only during the worst of the storms they’d drawn them in. But now, to fix any damage caused by the howling winds, it meant climbing into the highest reaches.
Keir’s gaze followed Imogen as she made her way up the ropes, her agility astounding.
“She’s incredible, isn’t she?” Bronagh asked from beside him.
The two royals hadn’t spoken much since boarding the ship. The truce still sat uneasily between them, the trust fragile. Their entire lives, they’d been taught to hate each other, to only view the other as an enemy to be destroyed.
“When did the storm end?” Keir asked, still not looking at her.
“In the night. It was the strangest thing. The storm raged over the seas. I was watching it with Tierney from a doorway. And then, suddenly, it stopped.”
“Like someone had turned off a switch.” Tierney joined them, her eyes roving the calm waters before them. When Keir and Bronagh shot each other confused looks, Tierney groaned. “Oh, for magic’s sake. A switch is how the humans turn electricity on and off.”
“Electricity …” Keir never understood what she was talking about, but her knowledge of the human world always intrigued him.
She rolled her eyes. “They don’t use torches and candles and oil lamps for light. It’s this … okay, let’s just say it’s like magic. Imagine you had a glass ball and you put a crystal in it and told the crystal to provide light to read a boring document or something. Then, the light shone through that glass.”
Bronagh clasped her hands together. “But why do we need the glass when the crystal could provide enough light on its own?”
Tierney scrubbed a hand across her face. “You know what, sometimes I just have to remember fae won’t believe in human magic unless they see it for themselves.”
“I wasn’t aware humans had magic.” Keir had pictured them as docile creatures without true power.
“Well, they don’t call it that. It’s technology. Anyway, what I was saying is, the storm just suddenly stopped, and the waters calmed in an instant. It was unnatural.”
Keir leaned against the rail, trying to keep himself upright. He was no longer nauseated, but the weakness remained. And that’s when he noticed it. It wasn’t just the water that barely even showed the ripples in the boat’s wake. The sounds … “Do you hear that?”
Bronagh cocked her head. “Just the wind.”
There was enough of a wind to keep them moving, but that was it. “Where are all the birds?” Before the storm, they’d seen many of them.
“We’re probably too far from land for birds.” Not even Tierney sounded sure of her words.
“That’s true,” Captain Michel said from behind them. “But it is not the only truth.”
The three of them turned, taking in the man who’d gotten them here. He held his cap in his hands, wringing it between his fingers. Nerves flitted across his face.
“Everything okay, Captain?” Tierney glanced at Keir in concern.
She was right. The man looked stressed, almost scared.
Captain Michel looked out at the horizon. “I think we’ve reached the sea of glass.”
When none of them spoke, he explained, “It’s called that because all turmoil disappears here, all waves, storms. The water looks smooth as glass, the winds calm, and the sky a bright reflection. It was just a rumor … I’ve never heard of anyone making it so far beyond the Vale of Storms.”
This was it. They’d gone farther than any other. “And what comes after this sea of glass?” Keir met the man’s gaze.
The captain swallowed, his face darkening. “The maelstrom.”
Bronagh sucked in a breath. Tierney stilled completely. The sea of glass was the calm before the storm, the last bit of peace any of them might see.
He didn’t want to ask his next question, but it couldn’t be helped. “When do you expect to reach the maelstrom?”
“We can’t know for sure, as our maps and calculations are mere guesses.”
“Captain.”
“Tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. One day. One day left to play cards with the men who’d only just become his friends in a way, one day left to drink tea with common fae he’d never imagined getting to know.
One more day to feel the energy crackling between him and Tierney.
“Captain, may I have a word?” Keir mustered all his strength to stand up straight, to not let his weakness show.
The old man nodded and led Keir farther along the bow of the ship. When they stopped a far enough distance not to be overheard, Keir turned to him. “What do we need to do to secure the ship?”
Captain Michel trained experienced eyes on him. “Young man, my seamen have been preparing for this since the day we left port. Every bit of the hull has been repaired and reinforced. Anything on deck is strapped down to avoid projectiles damaging the mast.”
“Or killing us.”
“You will weather the maelstrom down below and allow my crew to keep you safe.”
“If there are tasks to be done—”
“I will have my fae do them. This mission you embark on cannot be carried out by just any fae. If my kingdom is to have any chance at surviving what is to come, we need you and our queen to reach these foreign shores intact. I don’t need you decapitated by a severed rope.”
Could a rope really do that?
As if reading his mind, Captain Michel went on, “We’re going to have ropes snap in the kinds of winds we’ve never imagined. If you don’t think they’ll be flying through the air fast enough to cleave your head right from your body, then you’re dumber than you look.”
“I get your point.” Keir’s jaw clenched. “We have to stay safe.”
“There is no safe in the maelstrom. If the winds up top don’t kill you, you’ll probably drown when the hull splits. If luck is on our side, and that’s a giant if, a few of us might make it out. But I don’t have time to coddle anyone’s pride. When I tell you to stay below, you will.”
Keir wasn’t stupid. He saw the sense in the captain’s words, even if he didn’t like feeling useless with a battle coming. But this wasn’t a battle he could fight with sword and shield.
Only luck.
By the time night descended, an air of apprehension settled over the entire crew and passengers of the Wind Runner. No one knew exactly what kind of monster headed straight for them.
It was too dark down below, too full of worry and fear. One by one, they filed onto the deck and sat with their backs resting against a stack of crates that had been strapped and triple strapped to the deck.
Keir sat in the center with Tierney on his left, their shoulders pressed together. Gulliver sat on her other side, his hand entwined in Tierney’s. To his right, Bronagh and Veren leaned on each other, neither seeming to notice the intimacy of the position. Maybe it didn’t matter any longer. None of the proprieties, the expectations of society.
Tomorrow would be bigger than any of them, bigger than the role they played within their kingdoms. Here, under a clear sky full of false hope and distant stars, there were two royal leaders from warring lands, the heir to a fabled kingdom’s throne, a nobleman turned soldier, and the adopted son of a prince. They weren’t ordinary fae, and this wasn’t an ordinary task, yet their titles wouldn’t help them now.
This night, everyone was powerless.
They sat silently together, soaking in the remaining moments of stillness.
Gulliver leaned closer to Tierney. “I love you,” he whispered. The words tore at Keir’s heart because they were so close to everything he hadn’t been able to say to the fae in his life, everything he wanted to say now.
Tierney’s lips curved into a smile, the fear leaving her eyes for a beat. “I love you too.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry you’re here.”
Gulliver smoothed a hand over her hair. “I’ve told you before it isn’t your fault. Whatever happens, never blame yourself. Even if we die tomorrow, I’m glad I ended up in Lenya with you, that you weren’t alone.”
“Not me,” Veren put in. “I could be back in my bed in Iskalt right now.”
They all chuckled because if it wasn’t for this journey, even Keir knew Veren wouldn’t have regretted anything. He barely knew the man, and yet, he’d watched him change, just as Tierney had.
His father used to say suffering made one stronger, but he had it wrong. It wasn’t the suffering that made a fae stronger, better. It was the desire to end suffering, to fight for something greater than one’s self.
Keir settled his head back against the edge of the wooden crate, but he froze when Tierney jerked up.
“Toby,” she said.
Gulliver reached for her. “What’s wrong?”
She lurched to her feet. “I can … I … Toby? Are you there?” She walked toward the afterdeck.
Gulliver moved to stand, but Keir yanked him back down. “I’ll go.” He pushed to his feet and followed Tierney to the rail. She looked off into the darkness, her mind in another place. “What happened back there?”
She jumped at the sound of his voice and turned. Moonlight bathed her face, reflecting off her dark irises as she drew in a deep breath. “My brother … I felt him.”
“Felt him?”
“I’ve told you about how he’s connected to my magic. I lost that connection in Lenya. That’s why my magic doesn't work. I’m too far away from Toby.” She shook her head, her eyes still holding a faraway look as she clenched her fists in frustration. “It’s never made any sense. There have been so many times when Toby has gone to the human realm with Father and it never affected my magic. But somehow it seems as though whatever separates Lenya from the Four Kingdoms is much greater … or more powerful than the veil between the human and fae realms. The closer we sail to Iskalt, the stronger the feeling becomes. It’s not all there, but there are moments when I can sense him with me, feel his hand in mine. You probably think I’m losing my mind.”
Keir shook his head. He’d seen enough unexplainable things recently that he believed in every possibility. A princess appearing out of the sky from a mythical kingdom. Stagnant fire plains moving and growing like they were alive.
“Your totem,” she said. “Do you still have it?”
Keir drew it out from beneath his shirt. “It’s useless.” Without magic, it had no power, but he’d kept it anyway for the sheer comfort wearing it brought him.
Tierney reached for it, her fingers grazing his chest right over his heart. The vessel kicked up a notch, reacting to her nearness.
“It’s stronger.”
“What?”
“The connection with my brother. When I’m near the crystal, I can feel him more intensely. It’s like the power inside it touches mine.”
“But there is no more power.”
“That’s not true.” How was this possible? “It’s just a flicker, not enough for you to draw out, but it’s still there. I think you’ve been wrong all along. No crystal ever completely loses its magic; you just lose the ability to use it.”
Studying her for a moment, Keir slipped the leather strap over his head. His chest instantly felt naked without it, somehow more vulnerable. “If it makes you feel closer to your brother, you should wear it.”
It might not help her magic, but maybe it could give her some peace if tomorrow happened to be their end.
Tierney took it, tears filling her eyes. “Keir,” she whispered. “I can’t. It’s yours.”
He closed her fist around the totem, not wanting her to realize what it meant to him to go into tomorrow without it. Even if it couldn’t protect him, it provided him with an inner strength to get through anything. “Yes, you can.”
“Thank you.” She slipped it over her neck, closing her eyes. “If I never make it back, at least I can sense him with me when it ends.” When she opened her eyes, tears spilled over her perfect cheeks. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his chest. “You’re not the horrid man you try to appear, Keir Dagnan.”
It took him a moment to make himself move, but he wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes and soaking in her nearness, the way his body thrummed with energy.
He wasn’t sure how long they embraced or why neither of them pulled back, but a slight rocking of the boat jostled them apart. Tierney leaned over the side. “It seems we’ve reached the end of the sea of glass.”
The eerie stillness was gone, and the wind picked up. The water underneath the ship undulated slowly, just small waves. By morning, there’d be nothing small about them. This was only the beginning.
Tierney’s hand slid into Keir’s, her grip tightening. “When we get through this, I’ll be almost home.”
Home. Her kingdom, not his. Yet, the truth of the last thing he’d done before leaving Lenya sat heavily on his heart. He hadn’t yet told Tierney of those final conversations.
“I should have helped you return from the moment my men found you on the battlefield.” Instead, he’d tied her up and taken her to his father. “Tierney—”
She turned so quickly her chest bumped his. And then, she kissed him. This wasn’t like the kisses back in Vondur, frantic and needy. This time, they were slow, methodical, memorizing every moment. Kissing Tierney had never been about getting something or even giving it; it was about living, about being.
For so long, he’d obeyed orders, done his duty, and failed to consider what life could truly be like. Like a kiss, feather-soft and so calming he could forget the storm coming for them, forget that soon they might be torn apart.
Forget that they’d been trained as royals never expecting choices, true decisions in their lives.
Tierney gripped the hem of his shirt, yanking him closer. The totem she now wore around her neck brushed his chest, sending adrenaline racing through his veins.
By the time Tierney pulled away, they were both breathing heavily.
Keir touched his lips. “What was that for?”
A sad smile tilted the edges of her mouth. “Tonight may be our last, Keir. For once, I didn’t want to deny myself what I needed.”
“And that was to kiss me?”
She brushed up against him again, her breath whispering over his lips. “If you wish, I can stop.”
“Tierney, I could live a thousand lives and never wish for your kiss to end. Even if tomorrow is the end of our world, you broke mine long ago.”
That brought a grin to her lips that threatened to stop his heart completely. “Well, my family has always said I’m trouble. Breaking worlds is in my nature.”
“Do you ever stop talking?”
“Not when I’m annoying you. It’s my job to—”
He swallowed her words in a kiss so bright it stole the stars from the sky. And all at once, that broken world started to look a lot more whole.
“Promise me,” he whispered against her lips, desperate to have some kind of hope.
“Anything.”
“Promise me you’ll still be here to irritate me after tomorrow. That we’ll make it through this. No heroics, no added dangers. We stay below and survive the maelstrom.”
Tierney didn’t answer him as she pressed her face into his shoulder, hiding the knowledge in her eyes. But he knew what they’d say.
She was a hero, someone who would always risk her life and walk right into danger. There was no promise she could make beyond tomorrow that wouldn’t be a lie.