“You’ve done your part, Trouble. Sleep now. I’ll handle the rest.”
My heart cracks as the door falls shut, but I press the heel of my hand against it. Roll until I’m sure it’s beating in a solid rhythm again. It doesn’t matter what we both felt, that unnamed thing floating between us. Kiara was right. Faolan was never going to stay. He’s never made me any promises beyond the legend we’d create—and that’s all this journey is. A story that will eventually end.
But no matter how many years come to pass, or how Faolan runs from the truth of it, I’ll knowthiswas real.
And no one can take that from me.
Fifty-One
I wake alone, and it’s alone that I step through the memories of last night scattered across the floor. By the time I’ve scrubbed my face clean and found clothing that doesn’t smell like him, it’s only the unfamiliar twinge between my legs that reminds me last night wasn’t a dream.
It was real. And now it’s over.
I give my head a ruthless shake and head for the deck—pulling up sharply at its threshold. Tension knots the air as though a storm is brewing, centered around Brona and Kiara at the wheel.
“If you’re so keen to direct us, thenhere. Please, be my guest.” Brona shoves one of her dotted star charts at Kiara, who rolls her eyes.
“Is it such a lofty request, asking for the coordinates, navigator? I need Tavin to send a message to Aisling—Maccus won’t give up so easy, the bastard. You’ll want them to be accurate.”
“Theyareaccurate,” Brona snaps. “As close as I can get, following a damned song for guidance! You’re better off spending your time praying for fair winds if we’re to make it by the solstice.”
“We’ll make it.”
Faolan’s voice shivers down my spine though it’s spoken to theair and not my skin. It takes everything in me not to turn like a flower to the sun as I step across the deck.
“We don’t have much choice, do we?” Kiara asks. “You swore this ship could outpace anyone, so please tell me why his sails are on the horizon?”
“He’s not as stupid as he looks. If I had to guess, one of his spies bought some Stiff Wind at the Scath-Díol, same as us. And then there’s Aidan, eager to point the way.”
Kiara groans, pushing her hair back as the currents shift once again, like the sea itself wants to slow us down. “His entire bloody court was set to arrive only a few hours after we left. Did you really think he’d take the insult of stealing his bridetwicefrom her wedding day without retribution?”
“Obviously not,” Faolan says, his expression hard as he studies the clouds that roll over themselves like sausages. “We’ll lose him in the fog tonight, buy ourselves some time. Have a bit of trust, Kiara.”
“It’s dwindling by the second.”
Faolan stalks past her to take the wheel as Brona curses them both and gathers up her maps to take shelter in the hall. “Tell Aisling to meet us there. At least then you’ll have a guarantee of escape if everything turns wrong.”
“Oh, I plan on it.”
Kiara glares at Faolan, then kicks a boot against the railing. Releases a hard breath into the air. “You’ve done well over the years, Faolan. We were both dealt a shite hand in life, but we’ve built something worthwhile out of it. Together. All I’m asking is that you don’t muck it up now.”
His nostrils flare as he grips the wheel tight. “Yes, my queen.”
Kiara is quiet for a time, watching her cousin. Then her gaze pins on me. “And you, Wolf Tamer?”
I lurch from my spot tucked by the doorway, heart beating loud enough to drown out the sea. Faolan doesn’t look at me, and I’m not sure whether to be grateful or hurt. “Aye?”
“Sort out your magic.” Kiara folds her arms over her chest. “If that song is right, you’re the one who will free the Isle of Lost Souls from whatever spell the gods laid upon it, and we don’t have an age to get it done.”
I bite down my protest, knowing how little good it would do. None of us knows what we’re getting into—a risk with no guarantee of reward. Even the location is a gamble.
Death awaits, my star-touched child.
“Saoirse?” Faolan’s eyes find mine over the wheel, leather glove wrapped neatly over the bargainer’s mark. His face is rueful, lips turned down.
We are out of other choices. There are only a few days left.
I swallow and turn away.
