Chapter Sixteen

A loud groan awoke me the next day. My hammock swung gently from side to side. It would’ve been relaxing, had Pudge’s arse not been hanging in my face.

I nudged his back with my arm. “What’s wrong?”

Groaning, he rolled over until he sat up. Pale-faced and glassy-eyed. “I feel sick again.”

Hopping from my own bed, I reached up to give him a hand, hoping he wouldn’t vomit on my head. Pudge started getting sick late the night before and had been up about every two hours or so to empty his stomach.

“Come on. Let’s get you onto the deck,” I said. We climbed the stairs and stepped out into the cool night air.

Pudge rushed to the railing, where he leaned over. When he finished retching, he turned to me and said, “I think I need to lie back down.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I chewed on my bottom lip.

“Buck up, brother.” Honour sauntered over to us. “You’re just a little seasick is all. Just make sure you drink some water.”

Pudge glowered. “Maybe some fresh air will do me some good.” He plopped down on the deck.

“You really ought to go back to bed,” I said, not liking the darker green shade he turned as the ship hit a large wave.

Honour tugged me away. “Come on. He’ll be fine. Why don’t you let me show you how to steer the ship?”

“Can you leave her alone?” Pudge forced himself to his feet. He held tight to the railing. “She’s not one of your barmaids.”

Honour released me and laughed. “I know. She’s a lady, and I’ll treat her as such.” He glanced at me. “She’s like a kid sister to me, and in case you forgot, she’s betrothed to the prince. I’m just trying to keep her entertained while you’re under the weather.”

Pudge snorted, then covered his mouth as another bout of sickness took over.

Hurrying to his side, I touched his clammy face. “You really need to get back in the cabin.”

Grr came from the shadows, carrying a bucket in his mouth, which he set at Pudge’s feet. His snout tilted upward, and he seemed to smile.

“Great. Even the dog is making fun of me.” Pudge winced but leaned down to pick up the bucket. “I’ll be in the cabin if you need me,” he said, then spun slowly to face his brother. “And you—you stay away from her, or I’ll pound your face in.”

Honour raised his hands to ward him off. “Hag, I’m your brother, not a damn criminal. When have I ever hurt Ivy?”

Pudge didn’t answer, then disappeared below deck.

I smiled, patting Honour’s arm. “Pudge is protective of me. We’re like brother and sister.” Not exactly the truth, but I wasn’t about to confide my feelings for Pudge to Honour. Brother and sister. The words got stuck in my throat, my thoughts drifting to Dorian.

“You okay?” Honour asked.

“Um—yeah, fine. Just worried about Dorian.” My gaze landed on Vane, who smirked as Pudge went back to our cabin. He then bent to whisper something to Barthe.

I glowered, then turned back to Honour.

We walked over to the ship’s wheel, where Honour stood like a proud pirate, his gaze moving over the water ahead of us. After long moments, he turned to me.

“Why did you choose Pudge to go on this journey with you? You know you’ll spend more time protecting him than you will searching for the prince.”

My hands fisted at my sides. Why was he questioning his brother? Okay, so Pudge probably wasn’t the best warrior around. All right, that was an understatement. I closed the distance between us and, with my hands on my hips, I said, “Because he’s loyal and he’s always there for me.”

I took a deep breath. Pudge was my best friend. He’d do anything for me, like claim me in the Choosing Ceremony when the time came. My whole life, Pudge had always been there with me and for me. Flutters tickled my belly. What was wrong with me?

“Why are you so hard on Pudge?” I countered.

Honour’s smile disappeared, and he gazed at the ship’s wheel. “Because he needs to learn to fend for himself. You won’t always be there to fight his battles.” He secured the wheel and moved toward me, his hands resting on my shoulders. “I love my little brother, but he needs to toughen up. Mother coddles him, and Father isn’t home enough to keep him on track.”

He sounded worried, which was sweet. “Maybe try to be less belittling. You care a lot about him, and so do I.”

Honour nodded. “I’ll try—but listen, why don’t we talk more later?” He moved to where Vane and Barthe were standing and waved them below deck once more.

At least he was keeping the arseholes at bay for me.

…

Seagulls chirped overhead, the heavy scent of salt filling the air. Grr sat at my feet while I watched endless miles of water cresting as it rolled in. I’d been stuck on the ship for over a week now, and boredom set in. With Pudge still on the mend and Honour busy being captain, I didn’t have anyone to practice swords with. Because I sure wasn’t about to ask Vane or his friends. And all of Dorian’s friends were preoccupied playing cards, small activities to keep their minds off the bigger task ahead. Captain Bushwell would’ve been a perfect choice, but since coming aboard he’d been sticking close to the council’s children, which piqued my curiosity.

With a sigh, I approached several of the crew members to have a go, but they refused to “muscle a girl.” I turned to watch one of the deckhands slopping a mop along on the floor, scrubbing the grime from the wood planks. He whistled to himself and seemed content with his lot. Into the bucket with the mop, onto the floor with the water. Over and over I watched this process until I thought my eyes might fall from my head.

“Shit cakes, I can’t take much more of this.” I shoved away from the railing and trudged toward the lower decks. When I got downstairs, I stopped in front of Honour’s room.

“What’s wrong?” Honour rolled up one of many charts he had sprawled across a table.

My arms crossed my chest, and I kicked at a barrel situated near the wall. “I’m going mad. No one will practice swords with me. Hell, no one will even deal me in for a hand of cards. I need something to do.”

He chuckled, walked around the table, and grasped my shoulders. “That’s because everyone is afraid they might hurt you. You, after all, are the future princess of Gob Hollow.”

Eyes narrowed, I didn’t return his smile. “I’ve been trained by soldiers. I’m not going to get hurt.”

“Ivy…”

“You haven’t seen me fight.” I whipped out my dagger and threw it across the cabin, hitting Gob Hollow on the map on the wall. “I can handle my own.”

He stepped back and retrieved my dagger for me. “Okay, I’ll see if anyone will spar with you. But only if you smile.”

It was difficult to be mad with him standing so close. My lips twitched at the corners. “Fine.”

“Now was that so hard?” He gestured for me to follow him.

“Yes.”

When we got to the upper deck, he glanced around at the crew. Some scrubbed the floor, and others knotted rope. I spotted one goblin in the crow’s nest, eyeglass pressed to his face. The sails billowed in the wind, four large masts sticking up like giant pins in a cushion.

“I’m looking for a volunteer to spar with Lady Ivy,” Honour hollered.

A few snickers sounded from nearby, and several noes followed.

“We wouldn’t want to hurt the lady,” one of them said. An eye patch covered the left side of his face.

Several others laughed. They acted as if this was some kind of joke. Gritting my teeth, I clenched my fists. Grr trotted up beside me and sat, lips pulled back as a low growl sounded.

“Oh, I get it. You’re a bunch of yellow-bellied cowards,” I said. “Guess I should’ve brought my own sparring partners.”

More grumbles sounded, but no takers. Honour shrugged. “Sorry, I tried.” But he couldn’t hide his smile, which pissed me off more than anything.

Jaw clenched, I mumbled, “Scoundrel.”

“I’ll work with you.” An elf stepped from the lower decks, sword belted to his side. His bronze skin shimmered beneath the dim lanterns. Dark hair was tied back by a strip of green leather, and his violet eyes sparkled as he gave me a quick once-over, as if sizing me up. A gray tunic clung tightly to a well-sculpted chest. Each contour of his body more perfect than the last. He was almost humanlike, except for his pointed ears and unnatural beauty.

“Thank you, Thezriel,” Honour said.

The elf nodded, then turned to me with a smile. “Shall we move to a more open space?” He gestured toward the bow of the ship.

I hurried after him, noticing a lot of eyes following us. “Let me just grab some practice swords from my room.” I hurried off to retrieve the weapons, and when I came back, I said, “Thanks for doing this.”

“Don’t go thanking me yet,” he said. “You might find yourself arse over teakettle.”

He raised his sword, lunging toward me. With a swipe of my own, I blocked the move. “You’ll have to do better than that,” I said.

In the distance, I heard Vane running his mouth. “Never thought I’d be stuck on a boat with an elf and a halfer.”

My jaw clenched, but I kept my focus on Thezriel. This Mission would definitely test my patience and my ability to work with Vane.

Thezriel and his blade moved like they were fine-tuned dance partners. With each maneuver, he meant to loosen my grip on the weapon. But I held fast, meeting his blade. If he parried left, then I moved to defend. I took a swipe at his head, and he ducked and rolled, coming up beside me. His sword flashed toward my neck, and I leaned back, bringing my weapon up to block.

For over an hour, we went back and forth, drawing a crowd as we attempted intricate battle sequences to unarm each other. But in the end, we conceded to a draw. Sweat beaded my brow. My heart pounded. This was the best I’d felt all week.

“I think I’ve met my match.” I grinned. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

Thezriel sat on top of a barrel, taking a swig of water from a ladle, then offered it to me. “Believe it or not, I used to be in the Elfin Army. I was the princess’s guard.”

“Was?”

Thezriel stared out at the water as if lost in thought. “They banished me after I got into a fight with another soldier over the princess. They didn’t like a renegade—at least not any with close ties to the princess.”

I frowned. “So you decided to work on a goblin ship?”

He chuckled. “Could be worse. Could be working for dwarves.”

A short man stalked by, eyes narrowed. “I heard that, elf.”

But it seemed so odd, having an elf aboard. They didn’t particularly like goblins. Not that I thought he wasn’t trustworthy or anything. “I should probably go check on Pudge. See if he wants to try and eat something.”

I stretched my legs, peering around for Grr, who’d disappeared again.

“So how about you?” Thezriel stood alongside me. “Where did you learn to fight?”

“My father and the king’s soldiers,” I said. “I’m hoping to earn my place as the High Advisor one day. They’re expected to be able to fight and guard the king, should it come to that.”

He patted me on the back. “I think you’re well on your way.”

I watched him walk away. It was strange—before we’d left Gob Hollow, I never would’ve imagined training with an elf. For so long, they’d been our enemies. Maybe everything outside of my goblin home wasn’t as bad as the elders had made it out to be.

My thoughts were soon interrupted by shouts.

“Come back here, you son of a dragon’s arse!”

Grr skidded toward me, a chunk of salted pork dangling from his mouth, with a bulky goblin in pursuit.

“Now you’ve done it.” I grabbed hold of Grr’s collar and ripped the meat from his teeth. “Here you go.” I tossed it back to the goblin.

His eyes narrowed, teeth bared. “Like I want to eat that piece of shit after your dog’s drooled all over it.”

“Grr, go lie down in the cabin with Pudge.” I pointed toward the stairs, although I was sure the goblin had probably eaten way worse things than a half-chewed piece of meat.

Grr gave me a sad puppy glance, the collar on his neck glowing bright blue against the dusky backdrop. I moved quickly to lay my hands over it, not wanting the crew to notice. Once out of eyesight, I released him, and he trudged toward the cabin.

“This is your fault.” The goblin made a few obscene gestures at me. “You brought that mangy mutt on board.”

I gave a weak smile. “Sorry. I guess I owe you some meat.”

Hag, this was going to be a long journey.

Once I made sure that Pudge was all right, I ventured back onto the deck once more, searching for Honour. If nothing else, he could entertain me with wild stories. However, I didn’t find him manning the wheel. So instead, I made my way to his cabin and knocked. But no one answered, so I tried again.

Maybe he’d lain down or something. Shoving the door open, I poked my head inside. “Hello? Honour, are you in here?”

I inched inside, shutting the door behind me. He wasn’t in his bed or anywhere in the room. As I started to leave, something caught my eye from beneath his bed.

My breath hitched. Was this what I thought it was? I leaned down and picked up the amulet. Holy Hag, it was. There in my hand was the Hag’s Crest. Ornate gold, with ravens carved around the edges and a crescent moon in the middle. It thrummed in my hand as if alive.

How did it end up on the ship? Did Honour know it was here? If he did, then why hadn’t he said anything? My pulse quickened, nausea washing over me. This was one of the items that had been demanded as part of the ransom. Something the king, or I guess I should say Father, thought was still missing. But here it was on Honour’s ship. Should I say something to him? Or maybe take it and keep it safe?

From outside the door, I heard voices, and I quickly tossed the crest back beneath the bed and pretended like I was straightening out the blanket. Since I had no idea how it got there, I needed to play ignorant until I could figure this out.

The door burst open, and I peered up to see Honour staring at me. “Little sister, what are you doing in here?”

“Sorry, I came to look for you to see if I could maybe visit for a bit. But you weren’t here, and your bed was kind of messy…”

He glanced at the bed, then back to me. His eyebrows quirked as he stepped closer. “Ivy, is that really why you’re in here?”

Oh crap. Did he think I was suggesting something else? “Um, on second thought, I think I’ll go take a nap in my room. See you later.” Without another word, I rushed out of there with only more questions that needed answering.