He chuckled darkly, some private joke rippling in his gaze as he turned for me to stitch his shoulder. “A good distraction for them, then.”
4
Maren
Hiking out of the rocky basin, Kye leaned against the wall of the cliffs, scrutinizing an untidy patch sewn into the knee of his pants as he waited for me. I climbed over a loose pile of rubble, eyes on the sea ahead.
“Let me check your shoulder,” I demanded. I’d kept a close eye on it the night before, calling within him to drain any infection. He turned, stretching the neck of his shirt away and bending his legs enough to drop to my height, his fingers tugging at the loose threads over his knee.
I’d stitched up what I could with his own blood, closing the wound faster than it would have if left to heal on its own. Running my fingers just under a darkening scab, I nodded my approval. “It looks alright so far. How does it feel? Is it too tight when you move?”
“My pants? They’re a little small, but I’ll manage.”
I dropped my hands away, unamused. Kye flashed his teeth.
As gray as the vaulted sky, the waves stretched for miles. Rough wind sang in my ears as it scraped my sides, forcing me to cross my arms. I’d pulled on a pair of pirate pants and theheaviest shirt we’d found in the pack, though both hung from my frame. Clouds rolled overhead, dark and moody, the thunderous water throbbing against the rock where my feet stood.
“Calder City sits on the same coast as this,” Kye said, angling a finger down the jagged line where the rock met the tide. “But the Sylus Mountains divide Calder from Rivea. We’ll either have to take a ship or the mountain pass—”
“Mountain.”
Watching the churning sea, Kye’s jaw rotated to the side as he considered my interruption. “It’ll take longer.”
“That’s fine.”
“It would be almost winter by the time we get back. Even on horseback, I don’t relish the idea of crossing a mountain pass in the snow. And the highway won’t be as safe as a ship.”
I exhaled, my stomach sinking at the sound reasoning laid out before me. I couldn’t argue with that. In most cases, a ship would be the safer option. Enclosed. Fortified. And yet…
Knots wound inside my belly. Twisting. Coiling. Wringing me out like a sheet plunged in ice water. Salty air caught in my lungs, suddenly thin, fluttering just past my lips. Iron bit into my wrists, mooring me against a wall in the dark, the wooden ceiling and floors shrinking, shriveling, squeezing me into something tiny and helpless. Oxygen choked me.
And beyond my reach, the sound of desperate feet scrambling for traction, someone strangling, the rattle of blood trapped inside lungs as they yanked a sparkling chain over his neck—
I watched the water stretch past the cliffs, weaving and rolling, the sun’s reflection so bright I had to squint my eyes. “No more ships. I’m done with pirates.”
Kye nodded slowly. He lifted a hand to graze the edge of his wrapped shoulder, eyes narrowing at his own feet. A flicker of worry prodded my chest.
I might have been done with pirates. But I didn’t think he was.
I forced myself to exhale into the wind. Veiled sunlight crept through my eyelids, the rock hard and damp under my feet. Rock, not wood. Sunlight, not darkness.
I let myself stand that way for several minutes, shutting out the feeling of hope hollowed into something empty. Of narrowing walls, of chains around my wrists. My eyes opened to find Kye studying me, golden eyes quiet.
“No ships,” I said, my voice an ounce firmer.
“Alright,” he murmured. “No ships.”
I wondered what he might be thinking. What he saw as he watched me, succumbing to the mad idea of traveling across an enemy kingdom on horseback while the sea—the more ideal option—sat at our feet.
“Do you know where we are?” I finally asked, brushing a lock of wind-ridden hair from my eyes.
He rubbed the back of his neck, lifting his gaze across the coastline. “I think we’re close to Vranna.”
“How do you know?”
“While I was rowing, I passed a sign with an arrow that pointed south, painted in red. A warning to turn back. It readBrána Do Podsvetia.”
“And that translates to?”
