2
Maren
In the damp, barren coastline of Rivea, I studied the arrow in Kye’s shoulder.
I could’ve curled up and gone back to sleep on the hard rock. But I knew he’d been up for three days now. He needed sleep, even if he said he didn’t. The curve of his brow, swollen from Burian’s blows, had begun to shrink, but his eyes remained puffy with fatigue. I cringed, wondering what I must look like, and quickly stuffed the thought away.
“What do we have?” I asked, pointing to the leather pack Kye had stolen from the berth before our escape. He’d already upended it in the hours I’d slept, and a small trove of seaman’s treasures lay in a pile near the fire.
“Not much.” Kye let his back fall heavily against the rock as he watched me. Most of the items were clothes, dirty and ragged. I wrinkled my nose at the scent of them. But a few other precious goods had found their way to shore with us. A rolled-up fishing line and hook. A dented piece of flint. A corked bottle, almost empty. And a larger assortment of knives than I’d have guessed.
“All of this was in the pack?”
“I found some of it on the floor of the dinghy. That’s—”
I coughed, having uncorked the bottle for a drink and finding choking fumes instead of water.
“Fire-in-a-bottle.” The corner of Kye’s mouth lifted, amusement dancing in his gaze. “The pirates threw them at us as I rowed away.”
“Fire-in-a-bottle,” I repeated, glancing back at the glass structure in my hand. A swatch of fabric floated inside.
“They insert a cloth rope for a wick and light the end before they toss it. The alcohol inside explodes on impact. You don’t want to drink it.”
I don’t think I could have even if I did. “What have you been drinking for three days, then?”
“I don’t—” He licked his lips. “I haven’t been.”
I glanced sharply at him.Mihauna, no wonder he seemed so tired.
His small smile flickered. “I didn’t want to leave you to find any. Besides, I have nothing to boil water. And the sea isn’t safe to drink.”
I nodded slowly, eyes drifting out over the rocks to the cliff line below. I wondered if I might find a pot or pan abandoned under the waves.
“How far are we from the pirates’ sunken ship?”
He sighed through his nose. “Two hours, maybe. But what that amounts to in distance, I’m not sure.”
“Did they see where we landed?” I asked, sending my vision over the distant water.
“The pirates?” Kye nodded towards the corner of our little hide-out, indicating the direction he’d come from, his long legs already taking strides.
I hurried to follow. “Yes. Did they?”
“I don’t think so. They fought in their dinghy as I rowed away.”
“They fought?”
“Argued amongst each other. I imagine they were split between following us onto the cliffs and finding a place to wait and ambush us.”
My thoughts slowed. Waking up here, I’d thought we’d lost the pirates. The idea that they might be waiting somewhere for us sent a small chill down my spine. “Where’s our dinghy now?”
“I sank it.”
I nodded, my exhale soft. I hadn’t wanted to keep it, of course. If he’d insisted on using it, I’d have refused. I didn’t want to set foot on another boat again, no matter how small.
I corked the glass bottle. “You should sleep. When the sun is up and I have light, I’ll get that arrow out.”
Kye’s jaw hovered open, a thought lingering on his tongue. But he closed his mouth instead, settling his weight into the flattest part of the rock where I’d slept. “Wake me if you hear anything.” He closed his eyes. “Anything at all.”
