“Are you well enough to move?” Valor asked.
“I think so.” His voice came out hoarse.
“I thought you were on good terms with the merfolk. Their new monarch is your brother, is he not?”
“Brothers don’t always get along—not that that’s what’s wrong. I don’t think Adonis couldseeme,” Nick said.
“No. I believe your spells hid you from him.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nick held the front of the saddle, grateful both for Julia’s obedience and the shade of the trees. He smelled of blood and sweat, and he wondered if it was strange that the horses weren’t bothered by that.
“This happened before.” Nick decided to focus on one thing at a time. “When the merfolk came near the boat while we were still on the ocean. They passed us by while they were searching every other boat out there.”
“Are you on bad terms with –”
“I’m not on bad terms with my family,” Nick interrupted. “There’s no reason that something meant to protect me should have hidden me from Adonis.” And it wasn’t the same either. With Desre, one small symbol had activated to repel her power, but this had been all of them at once. As if all the symbols were working together towards a shared common goal.
“Are you afraid of merfolk?” Valor asked.
“What? No. I know they’re not going to hurt me.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Nick opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat. He was back at Vi’s, hours before the party began, freshoff the yacht and rushed into Laurence’s room so he could practice with his tattoo kit before the party. Laurence silently focused on drawing as Nick’s mind had hurtled through the horrible realisation that every single person he cared about was in another world. And he had been afraid. He’d been afraid that something would happen to them and Nick wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. His ineptitude against these fantastical creatures would rear its ugly head, and he’d have to watch as his family were harmed.
But Nick had been afraid of that since last year. Since Connor had introduced his boyfriend and Nick realised that all the bad that had happened to Connor had been because of mermen. That the threat of them, of this world, was to be a constant in all of their lives.
Nick shut his eyes. “It’s my fault.”
“It is not an insurmountable issue,” Valor said. “Write a letter, and I will ensure it is delivered.”
“Okay. Let’s do that.” Nick sighed.
The castle came into view before long, and he noticed the mass of tents hitched across rolling fields. Kits ran to and fro, some on horseback, some carrying boxes and barrels, some marching with a purposeful gait, hands on sword hilts. The sun was lowering behind a mountain upriver, and Nick gauged there were only a handful of daylight hours left.
“I imagine Ios has persuaded Kit to train with them in the sand arena over there.” Valor nodded towards the side of the castle, outside the walls. “Go to the doctor first before you join them. Kit will be upset to see you in this state.”
Nick followed Valor’s directions to the doctor and ended up washing and changing into fresh clothes that didn’t smell like river water before going in search of Kit. His arms tingled beneath white bandages, an after-image of faded pain. He felt drained, like he’d just played two rugby matches back to back.
Kits gathered on the wooden fence boxing in the training grounds, Ios’s familiar slim silhouette among them. Nick leaned against the wooden plank next to him, catching his first glimpse of Kit. He wore leather trousers with a long-sleeved shirt, his fine gloves curved around the hilt of a wooden sword. Half a dozen young kits surrounded Kit, tails lashing, wooden swords in two-handed grips. Half were shirtless, the other half wore short-sleeved shirts stuck to their torsos with sweat.
The tallest of the bunch dove in. Kit slashed his own sword out in a lazy arc; the attacking kit ducked it, kicking out for Kit’s knee. Kit twisted away, somehow managing to catch the small kit with his tail and trip him into the dirt. “Good,” Kit said. “But you were staring at my knee the whole time. Don’t let me see where you mean to attack.”
Before he’d finished speaking, two kits leapt at him from either side; Kit dodged and allowed them to collide with one another. “Pay attention to what your comrades are doing.”
Kit worked each young kit until they were panting and then gestured to the side where reserves were waiting their turn to jump in and have a go. Two of the older boys managed to get a good swipe in, and they’d practically combusted with pride when Kit had looked at them with approval shining in his eyes and said, “Excellent.”
Nick propped his elbow on the fence line and positioned his fingers to hide his smile. When the older boys went back, puffed up and boasting, and the other kits rebounded on Kit with renewed enthusiasm, Nick realised the entire aim of the game was to get an ‘excellent’ of their own.
“Does he ever spar with you guys?” Nick asked.
Ios squawked and slipped, recovering just before falling off the fence. Nick’s arm shot out to catch the back of his shirt and steady him.
“When did you get here?” Ios demanded.
“A good hour ago,” Nick said. Ios’s attention hadn’t strayed from Kit a single second. “Are you going to spar with him?”
