Aris leans over the railing as a pod of dolphins appears in our wake. “Some people say Triton sends dolphins as a sign of a good journey ahead.”
I can’t help the smile that slides across my face. I’ve never heard that before, and I’m fairly certain Aris made it up in an attempt to calm my nerves. I keep tugging at my sleeves and gloves. I cast a glance over my shoulder every few seconds to make sure Royce and his gold buttons haven’t moved any closer.
“I hope you’re right,” I say. We’ll need a smooth journey. And a fast one. Will my father last a week? A month? Two?
Aris must sense my apprehension because his voice takes on the jovialness it held when I first saw him. He switches position so that his back leans against the railing and his elbows are propped out on either side. He flicks hair away from his eyes. “Did I ever tell you about the time I used nothing more than a conch shell to fight off four men who accused me of cheating at cards?”
I give him a skeptical look.
“Really,” he says. “We were on one of the small Rolliginian Islands, I can’t even remember which one. It was in the island’s only tavern, and every table had these ridiculously large conch shells as centerpieces.” He stretches his hands out in front of his stomach to show how large the conch was.
Before he can continue the story, another voice cuts between us.
“We’re clear of the harbor,” Royce says.
I turn to find him standing with his arms clasped behind his back.
“Let’s discuss what direction we need to head.” Royce motions for us to follow him and then sets off without waiting to see if we do.
But I don’t want to. Not when it means being so close to gold again and having to tell someone else how I can find it. Sadly, I have no choice.
Royce leads us to a room right under the helm. The air is stale, but at least it doesn’t smell like fish. A small desk occupies one portion of the room, and across from it are two chairs with worn leather cushions. Several shelves run the length of the room and are laden with books and journals whose tattered covers are too worn to read from this distance. Thin wood beams run across the bookshelves, preventing the books from falling while the ship is in motion. At the far end of the room is a large window looking out the back of the ship. Underneath it is a rumpled bed with my trunk shoved against the foot. So I guess this is my new room.
Beneath one set of shelves opposite the bed is a mirror. I haven’t kept one of those in my room since being turned back. It’s bolted into the wall, so there’s no chance I can take it down.
I turn and catch my reflection as I move farther into the room. One flash of gold. I look away.
Royce shuts the door. “We’re about to hit open water, and I need to know which direction to take.” he says. “Aris tells me you have the map for this voyage.” He waits.
My throat is dry. I’ve never trusted men who wear gold. A few had tried after it was banned from the palace, and even after they were forced to take it off, I felt uneasy around them. They always seemed to be looking to confirm their own importance, to show how important wealth was to them. And I’ve seen firsthand what a want for wealth could do to a man.
But if Aris trusts Royce, I suppose I must.
I try to think of what to say, of how to explain how I know where we’re going without sounding crazy. Something tells me he won’t simply accept me pointing in a direction and telling him to go that way.
“May I see the map?” The annoyance in his voice is clear.
Seconds tick away.
“There is no map,” I finally blurt out.
“What?” Royce turns toward Aris. “What’s going on here? If you’re leading me on another one of your wild goose chases, then I’m heading back to the dock right now. Last time we didn’t have a map, we ended up in the Straits of Temperance, and I’m sure you remember what happened then.”
“She’s the map.” Aris points to me.
“I can find the gold,” I say with as much authority as I can muster.
“Gold?” He turns to Aris, clearly confused.
“Come on, it’ll be just like old times. Remember the time we sailed out to that little island in the middle of your lake looking for treasure and swung from vines and found that snake . . .”
“We’re not kids anymore. I don’t have time to sail off searching for treasure that doesn’t exist,” Royce snaps.
“So it’s a little more complicated than I made it seem,” Aris says with a shrug. “It’s nothing you can’t handle.”
“You said it would be a simple journey, a journey to find some girl’s father on a merchant ship because his wife is dying. You didn’t say anything about gold.”
I turn to Aris, confused.
Aris looks apologetically at me and clears his throat, but Royce cuts him off. “My ship is in need of repairs. Whatever gold you’re after will have to wait.”
“It’s a matter of life and death,” Aris says.
“Whose life?” Royce asks.
“The king’s,” I supply.
There’s a beat of silence, I think Royce may finally relent and start listening, but instead, he has the opposite reaction.
Royce’s eyes snap upward like he’s pleading with Poseidon himself. “No.” He marches toward the door.
Aris matches him stride for stride and slams his arm against the door before Royce can storm out.
Royce eyes Aris’s arm as if he’s trying to decide if it’s worth the fight.
“You know I don’t work for him,” Royce spits. “He has an armada at his disposal. And despite the fact I’ve never once seen those ships sail to fight the pirates plaguing the coast, his fleet is actually meant for things like this. Let them help with whatever this gold problem is. I have no desire to fill the king’s coffers.”
I’m stunned by his reaction. “You can’t deny aid to the king.”
“What do you think he did during the Orfland Wars, hmm?” Royce asks, his voice hard. “His people were dying, and he stayed locked up safe and sound in his precious palace. I owe that man nothing.”
I want to defend my father, to explain why he couldn’t be in the front lines. But I don’t—part of me knows the curse, and everything that followed, stemmed from my father’s greed. “Please,” I say. “We need your help.”
Royce’s eyes flick to me. “I doubt it.”
My hands go to my hood. I hesitate. But I can’t imagine what having to sail back to the harbor and outfitting another ship would do to my father’s health.
We need all the time we can get.
I lower my hood, and Royce’s eyes follow the movement.
He gasps. “It’s not possible.” His eyes have gone wide. His mouth opens and closes a few times, like he’s trying to work out what to say.
“I’m Princess Kora,” I say, “and my father’s gold has been stolen. His enchanted gold, which he needs to survive. We need to get it back as quickly as possible. The Royal Armada would have taken too long to supply, so Aris offered the use of his ship.”
Royce’s eyes narrow and swing to Aris. He looks shocked, like he’s been betrayed. “Is this some kind of trick?” He’s pale, as if he’s seen a ghost. “Did you paint a girl gold just to fool me? Everyone knows the only thing Midas keeps locked up tighter than his gold is his daughter.”
“It’s not a joke,” I plead. “I really am the princess.”
“Who took the gold?” Royce asks. His voice sounds even colder than before.
“I don’t know. But I can find out.” Desperate, I clamp my eyes shut. The aura of the cursed objects overwhelms me—either we’re getting closer, or I’m getting better. I can just make out the room the gold is in from the light it gives off. All the items are stacked in a corner on a wood floor. A sheet has been thrown over them.
I return to myself, shaking. I’ve never pictured the gold or its location that clearly before. And I don’t even know if what I’ve seen is enough to go on.
“You don’t know who took it, or how many men we’re going to be facing, or even if we’re sailing right into a trap?” Royce asks.
“No . . .” I admit.
He cuts me off. “You don’t know, and yet you expect my men to fight for you, to die for you?”
“I expect them to fight for their king,” I say. I realize too late it’s the wrong thing to say.
Life comes back into Royce’s face as his cheeks redden. “A king that’s done nothing for his people these past ten years? No, thank you. I’ve tried fighting for him before, and it didn’t turn out so well for me.”
“Royce,” Aris says, trying to step between us.
“Stay out of this, Wystlinos. You’re the one who got me into this mess. I agreed to take you out to a merchant ship, a ship that would be easy to catch and deal with.”
“You were willing to help a girl help her father,” I say, fighting to find anything to keep us from losing more time. “That’s still the case here.”
“Going after a merchant isn’t the same as going after a thief,” he shoots back.
“No,” I concede, “but Aris told me how his crew has taken on pirates and cutthroats before.”
Royce doesn’t look convinced, so I say the only other thing I can think of. The thing I know I’ll regret. “You’ll be paid.”
That gets his attention. “How much?”
“Enough to repair your ship and pay your crew for their services,” I say. Already my stomach is starting to churn along with the ocean beneath us. I can’t take that much money from the treasury. In fact, there’s only one way I know of to get enough to pay him off. The thing I promised I’d never do—use my abilities to create gold.
I’ve never been good at reading people, primarily because most people won’t get close enough to let me study their faces, but Royce seems even more difficult than I imagine most are. His stare gives nothing away.
“Please,” I beg in one final attempt, “my father’s life and the welfare of the kingdom depend on us getting that gold back.”
Royce studies me, weighing me with his eyes. “I’ll take your offer to my crew, but I’ll make no guarantees,” he says curtly and leaves.
I wonder if he’ll come back or if he’s just ordering the ship to turn around.
“I’m sorry about Royce,” Aris says, staring at the door. “Bringing me to the palace was his final payment for buying the Swanflight from me to start his own shipping business.” He stares out the window. “I should have told him everything, but I was afraid he wouldn’t help us. As I’m sure you noticed, he has no love for your father.”
“Why?”
Aris sighs. “Do you remember hearing about the incident with the Orfland Treaty?”
I think for a moment before the realization hits me. That’s where I’d heard his name before. Everyone had been talking about the young captain who’d lost the treaty, the one who could have stopped the war weeks sooner. “That was him?”
Aris slowly nods his head. “And me. I was on that ship too, carrying the treaty to Orfland. That’s the document the pirates stole from me that I mentioned in the rose garden. I didn’t want to tell you because I was afraid of what you’d think of me.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
Aris sighs again. “We weren’t far from Port Tamur when we picked up a woman floating in the water. I urged Royce to lock her up, but he wouldn’t. That night, we awoke to the sound of cannon fire. A ship had snuck up in the darkness. Just as the men were rousing themselves for a counter attack, the bottom blew out of our ship. Turns out the woman was one of the pirates, the ones I told you about back at the palace. She drugged the lookout and used one of our own barrels of oil to blow the ship in half.” He shook his head. “Royce and I and a few others made it out, but the ship was destroyed, and the treaty papers were lost. We were lucky the currents took us to Port Tamur.”
“I thought you said you fought the pirates.”
“We did. After we reached Port Tamur, I bought another ship, this ship, and went after them. I gave the death blow to the pirate captain myself. After we got back, though, Royce wasn’t the same. He lost all credibility, and they kicked him out of the armada.”
I can see why, and I can see why Aris wouldn’t want anyone knowing about his involvement as well. That lost treaty almost cost us an end to the Orfland Wars. It took months to get a second copy through, and during that time, rumors swirled about what had happened to the first treaty.
“But if anyone can get your gold back, it’s him. I’ve never known a better sailor or swordsman.” Aris moves closer to the window so that sunlight falls on his face, and he smiles at me, the same confident smile he wore in the palace. “Besides, I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for that incident. I first met your uncle when he was investigating what happened to the treaty. Somehow, he knew the truth about my father’s death and encouraged me to come visit you. He thought we might get along.”
Without thinking about it, I move to stand beside Aris. Sunlight hits my face and sends a glint around the room, and he winces as it passes across his eyes.
I duck my face. “I’m sorry.”
Aris lifts his hand to my cheek and lightly touches my skin. My pulse quickens as his fingers trail along it.
“Don’t ever apologize for being what you are.” His smile broadens. A strand of dark hair falls across his gray eyes.
I have the strange urge to sweep it back.
But before I can, the door crashes open.
I reach for my hood but stop when I see it’s only Royce.
Aris drops his hand from my cheek, and we take a few hurried steps away from each other.
Royce clears his throat. “My men don’t want to help a king who lets pirates raid the coast while he sits locked away in his palace with his gold. But”—he pauses—“lucky for you, I need the money to repair my ship. So I agree to accept your offer.”
Relief floods through me. “Thank you, Captain.”
Aris finds my hand and squeezes it.
“I’m still going to need to know how we find the gold, Princess,” Royce says, obviously not caring about our tender moment.
“Of course, and call me Kora, please.” I say, trying to remove some of the tension between us.
He doesn’t respond, so I focus on finding the tapestry. My mind returns to the room I saw earlier, and I struggle to find where it is in relation to our ship.
Finally, I point to the far wall. “That way.”
“Are you sure?”
“Trust her, Royce,” Aris says.
Royce studies both of us and nods.
I exhale. I thought he would demand an explanation for my abilities. I guess as long as he gets paid, he doesn’t care.
He walks back toward the door before turning back. “I’ll expect an update every hour in case they change direction.”
I swallow. Of course, I’ll have to continually check on the gold. Continually let it into my mind. I take a calming breath and try not to think about what effect that might have.
Royce swings the door open but jerks to a stop.
Phipps, I think, and Brus—the one who spit at me on the dock—are outside holding a hooded figure between them. I pull up my own hood and stuff my braid inside so the men can’t see my skin at the same time they pull back the hood of their captive. A mass of auburn curls explodes.
It’s Hettie.