She won again. Keir tossed his cards down. “I’m out. I know when I’m beat.” He reached for the wineskin at his belt. It was full of water. Staying hydrated seemed to help his seasickness almost as much as Tierney’s wrist trick had.
That and the smooth sailing they’d had for most of the day crossing the sea of glass. They’d left the calm waters behind, and the ship rocked gently in the rising swells as they continued on their northeast heading.
“I told you not to let her play.” Gulliver shuffled the cards and stuffed them back in the box he’d carved for them. He was a talented fae, and not just because he was a brilliant craftsman. He had a myriad of other skills. Some not exactly above board for the adopted son of a prince.
“I can’t help it if I have good luck, boys.” Tierney scooped up her winnings—a handful of coppers and a few trinkets she’d collected off them throughout the evening.
“If only her luck would see us through the maelstrom.” Veren lifted his own wineskin and drank deeply.
“I’ll drink to that.” Gulliver reached for Veren’s, but Tierney slapped his hand away.
“Now is not the time, Gullie.”
“Right, right.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “But when we get home, I’m nicking the biggest bottle of wine in the Iskalt palace, and you can’t stop me.” He shot her a glare.
“Steal two, and I’ll join you.” Tierney grinned. “But I won’t be the one to put you to bed when you’re too drunk to walk in a straight line.”
“It’s a date.”
“Just think of it, Gullie. A few days from now, we could be at the palace in our old rooms with all of our family and all our things.”
“I thought Gullie lived in Myrkur,” Bronagh said, leaning back against the crates, where they sat in the fresh air, soaking up their last moments of peace.
“I do, but my father is an O’Shea. He can create portals like Tia is … supposed to be able to do, but she’s rather awful at it.” Gulliver shrugged. “I spent a lot of time at the Iskalt palace growing up.”
“You have your own rooms there?” Keir asked, astonished. He supposed it was normal in their world for the ward of an Iskalt prince to have the rights of a natural-born son, but it was not so in Vondur. A man like Gulliver would be lucky if his adopted father was able to give him a name, much less a fortune and status.
“Why? Is that weird?” Gulliver shared a look with Tierney. “My best friend is the princess, and she’s sort of my … sister-cousin.”
“Wait, she’s what?” Bronagh snorted a laugh.
“Was I not supposed to say that?” Gulliver glanced at Tierney, his brow lifting.
“What he means is, his adopted father is actually my natural father. Mine and Toby’s, of course. It’s a really … really long story.” Tierney laughed. “But a good one with a great ending. If we make it through tomorrow, I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Is it … not something your people know?” Keir asked, though Veren seemed to know all about this shocking revelation.
“Oh, everyone knows.” Tierney waved a hand as if it was nothing. “Uncle Griff and my mom were married for a time, but she was really in love with my dad. And he’s been my true father. We’re just alike, though he likes to insist that I’m exactly like my mother.”
“Tia’s a perfect blend of Loch and Brea.” Gulliver smiled. “The only thing she got from Griff is her strawberry blond hair. He has auburn hair and Loch has white-blond hair. She has her mother’s face and eyes, so really, she’s a bit like all three of them rolled into one troublesome package.”
“And it worked out well for Gullie to get a father all to himself.” Tierney leaned against him. “At least until Griff married Aunt Riona and they had Gullie’s little sisters.”
“I miss the little beasts, flying around like a couple of winged pests.” Gulliver shook his head.
“Your sisters … have wings?” Bronagh asked, a note of uncertainty in her voice.
“Their mom’s Dark Fae like me. A slyph—a rare one too. They both inherited her wings and tattoos.”
“I would like to visit your land one day, Gullie.” Keir clapped him on the back. “It sounds fascinating.”
“Myrkur isn’t much, but it’s got one thing going for it Lenya does not.” Gulliver stretched his legs out in front of him. “No bloody fire plains.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Keir threw his head back and laughed. “We’ll raise a glass of this fancy Iskalt wine I keep hearing so much about and toast to the death of the fire plains.”
“Here, here.” Veren laughed. “I never thought I would miss the snow and ice of Iskalt, but if I never feel the heat of the burning lands again, it will be too soon.”
For a brief moment, they were all smiles. Just a group of friends who had nothing in common but the circumstance that had brought them together. Keir had never seen anything more beautiful than Tierney’s face under the light of the stars as she laughed and joked with Gulliver about his sisters. Keir joined in their laughter at the look on Bronagh’s face when Veren described what ogres were. He wasn’t so sure he believed there were actual sentient creatures that looked more like talking, mossy boulders than fae, but he really hoped they would survive this journey so he could find out for himself.
“It is time, your Majesties.” Captain Michel came to break up their gathering. “We’ve entered the currents of the maelstrom. We will reach the edge of the storm within the hour, and we’ll be in the thick of it by dawn. Best get below deck now.”
“The wind will pick up soon.” Imogen bounced along the ship railing, peering into the darkness like she could already see the great maelstrom waiting to devour them. “We’ll get our first look at her just before the sun comes up. I bet she’s a magnificent sight.”
Keir wished he could look at what they faced the way Imogen did. Like it was a great adventure just waiting around the corner, and not the cause of their imminent deaths.
Bronagh was the first to her feet. “May the magic be with you and your crew, Captain.” She pulled him into an awkward hug. The weathered old man flushed with pleasure, patting her shoulder gently. “It has been my greatest honor to serve you, your Majesty.” He stooped into a courtly bow.
“May this be the first of many ways you will serve the people of Lenya.” Bronagh squeezed his hand and made her way below deck with Veren.
“I am happy to help if you need an extra pair of hands and a mighty quick tail.” Gulliver stood before the captain. “I know your crew is all seasoned sailors, but if you need me, I’ll come.”
“Thank you, Lord Gulliver. You’re a fine lad and a good sailor.” The captain clapped him on the shoulder. “But I think your princess is going to need you more.”
Gulliver nodded, taking Tierney’s hand.
“You have no idea, Captain Michel, what it means that you were willing to make this journey with us.” Tierney choked back tears. “Please don’t die.” She flung her arms around the old captain, giving him a fierce hug before she turned and ran from the upper deck with Gulliver on her heels.
“Captain.” Keir nodded. “The fate of all of Lenya rests in your capable hands, sir. All of our families are counting on this voyage to reach its destination.”
Michel nodded, his hands shaking as he reached to wipe the beads of sweat from his brow. “I will do my best, your Majesty.” He gave a proper bow, something no Grimian would ever give a Vondurian royal.
“You have my gratitude and my deepest respect, sir.” Keir returned the bow. “May the winds be in our favor this day.” He turned and left the old captain standing alone on deck. It was going to be a very long night … for all of them.
Keir wished something—or someone—would knock him over the head so it would all be over when he woke up. It didn’t take long for the seas to turn violent as they neared the massive storm. And along with the dips and rolling of the ship, Keir’s seasickness returned in full force.
They’d all agreed to stay together in the berth Tierney shared with Bronagh. It was the smallest of the cabins, but it rested closer to the center of the ship than the one he shared with Veren and Gulliver. Still, they could hear the roar of the waves, the torrential downpour, and the shouts of the crew. Thunder crashed overhead so loud it drowned everything out for a moment before sound came flooding back in.
Keir pressed the sensitive point on his wrist, begging for the room to stop spinning. There was nothing left in his stomach to heave up, but it didn’t seem to know that.
They all sat on the floor between the two small beds. Bronagh and Tierney clutched each other, and Gulliver’s tail wound around Tierney’s waist, anchoring her to his side. Truth be told, Keir wished he could hold on to her like that.
“How far into it do you think we are?” Veren asked. He’d asked the same question at least a dozen times already.
“The tug of the current is strong.” Tierney chewed her bottom lip. “I can feel it in my bones. I think we must be right on the edge of the storm.” The ship trembled beneath them, and the crash of thunder sounded like cannon fire, making them all wince.
“And if the boat starts to tilt hard one way or the other, it likely means we’ve lost control.” Bronagh rested her head against the bunk behind her. “Do you think we’ll fall into the center of the maelstrom, or will the ship just break apart?”
“Don’t dwell on such things, Bron,” Veren whispered. “We will be all right.” But from the look on Veren’s face, he didn’t believe his own words.
“Why is it so bloody hot in here?” Gulliver wiped the sweat running down his face. “It must be a thousand degrees.”
“We’re nearing the fire plains.” Tierney’s face brightened.
“Why do you look so happy about that?” Bronagh groaned, fanning her face with her hand.
“Not your fire plains. Mine.” Tierney beamed. “Don’t you see? We’re nearing the Four Kingdoms!”
“I hope we are, otherwise we’re going to be cooked alive right here in this room.” Keir ran a hand through his sweaty hair. The temperature had risen steadily since they sought their safety below deck. It was that putrid kind of hot that couldn’t be anything but the fire plains.
Keir pulled his knees toward his chest. He was a soldier. It was unnatural to sit where it was safe, waiting for the storm to pass while others saw to the danger. It went against everything inside him.
“I feel it too.” Veren nodded at him. “The maddening uselessness, but there is nothing out there to swing a sword at, Keir.”
“Nothing but the wind.” He sighed. “I still feel like I’m sitting out the biggest battle of my life.”
“It’s not our battle to fight. Not today.” Veren turned his attention back to Bronagh sitting directly across from him, as if staring at her would keep her safe from the storm raging just beyond the ship’s hull. One wrong move and it could break apart, sending them all to the bottom of the sea.
“Drowning is supposed to be a peaceful way to go.” Gulliver laid his head on Tierney’s shoulder.
“Hush, Gullie. We have to stay positive.” Tierney bit down on her thumbnail, worrying it between her teeth.
The ship chose that moment to let loose a groan like the aged beams might splinter and crack any second.
Bronagh cried out as the boat listed sharply to the side, tossing them around the room like they weighed nothing. Keir rolled toward the door, landing on his back as something crashed and the light from the lantern guttered out leaving them in darkness.
“Ouch.” Tierney cried. “Gullie your tail—”
The room tilted again, and Keir feared they were about to capsize.
He landed hard on his shoulder, and something soft and warm tumbled on top of him.
“Oh, sorry.” Tierney’s breath was hot in his face. “Who have I landed on?” she whispered, her hands braced against his chest.
Keir wasn’t sure what came over him. Maybe it was the thought of dying, but he needed to taste her lips one more time. He found her mouth in the darkness, her lips soft and inviting against his.
“Oh.” Tierney pulled back for a moment. “Keir,” she breathed his name, and her lips claimed his again. “I think we must be dying.” A salty tear splashed his cheek.
“Just a bit of a rough patch.” Keir wiped the tears from her face. “We’ll see it through.”
“Well, the lantern’s useless.” Gulliver’s tail made a swishing sound. “Everyone okay?”
“Fine.” Bronagh sounded breathless as she sat up.
“Felt like we nearly lost it there for a minute.” Veren sounded a bit breathless himself, and Keir wasn’t so sure it was from the circumstances.
“We must be nearly through.” Tierney sat beside Keir where they had landed near the door. She crept closer to him, and he wrapped his arm around her. If they tumbled again, he would be ready.
“Tia, you okay?” Gulliver sank down beside them. “I lost you.” He groped for her hand in the darkness.
Keir lifted his hand from Tierney’s shoulders as Gulliver’s tail wrapped around her again. “I’ll keep a better hold on you next time.”
“I’m okay, Gullie.” She tucked herself against Keir, grasping her best friend’s hand. “We’re all okay.” She rocked side to side slowly, muttering to herself.
Just as Keir’s heart finally found a regular rhythm again, cries rang out along the deck and the ship began to groan and creak loudly. Tierney grasped his arm, her grip like a vise.
“Toby,” she whimpered, clutching the totem Keir had given her. “I’m not going to make it home.”
Keir gripped her on one side as Gulliver held her tightly on the other.
“You tell him we’re going to be fine, Tia.” Gulliver’s voice was firm. “We will get through this.”
“Does it feel cold to anyone else?” Bronagh asked. “Or am I in shock?”
“It’s cold.” Tierney shivered. “That can’t be a natural shift in temperature.”
“Are we on the other side?” Gulliver asked. “It almost feels like Iskalt cold.”
“How can it be hotter than an inferno one moment and cold as ice the next?” Veren’s voice shook.
Even Keir felt it. The sweat from earlier had soaked his clothes, and now his back was like a sheet of ice. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like on deck.
The wind howled, and the ship trembled. Keir resisted the urge to fling open the door and run up the steps to the open deck to demand a progress report.
Really, he just wanted to see the stars one last time. To meet his death head-on rather than cowering below deck, waiting for death to find him.
A loud snap echoed in the silence, and the ship roiled.
Ice cold water flooded into the room. Tierney and Bronagh shrieked as they all scrambled to move away from the rising water.
“We’re sinking!” Veren shouted. “We have to do something, Keir.”
Clutching for the totem he always wore at his neck, he cursed himself when it wasn’t there.
“We’ve failed everyone.” Bronagh sobbed, turning to Veren for comfort.
The water flooded in quickly.
Another great shudder ran through the ship, and the hull split right before their eyes. Water rushed into the room just as lightning streaked across the strip of sky he could now see past splintered wood.
It seemed he would get to see the stars one last time after all.
Veren shoved Bronagh behind him, his eyes wild with fright and indecision. There was nothing they could do. The sea would have them soon.
The gap in the hull widened.
“Toby!” Tierney screamed as chunks of ice and snow streamed into the room. Keir could see more heading their way. Larger chunks of ice. Tierney had mentioned them before. The icy floes. The first signs of Iskalt.
“Tia.” Keir slipped, nearly losing his grip on her. “I’m sorry, Tia. I’m so sorry for everything.” But she didn’t hear him. She was somewhere else, trying to reach her twin in her last moments.
Keir positioned her behind him. “Keep your grip on her, Gullie.” He blocked them with his body and held onto the carved post of the bed, bracing himself for the inevitable. Tierney’s fingers clawed at his arm, searching for a hand. He gripped hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
A massive wave crashed through the gap in the hull, bathing them in icy seawater. Something cold and hard crashed into Keir’s head, and his grip slipped. The current pulled him toward the open sea. His head throbbed, and his stomach churned.
“Keir!” Tierney screamed. Her hand slid out of his.
The ship tilted at a sharp angle, and Keir stared into the maw of the maelstrom.
He caught sight of Tierney before he was swept overboard. Her eyes lit with fire and ice. Something warm and familiar shot right through him, but the waves crashed over his head and darkness took him.