My stomach emptied, watery and clear. I heaved it all out—then probed internally for more until I was sure the water was gone.
The ship plunged into a wave, and I gripped the wall behind me, a sheen of sweat covering my brow.
Somehow, I’d made it worse.
A grogginess invaded my muscles. The sounds above echoed in my still-ringing ears. I stood listening to the quiet cadence of Kye’s breathing.
How long had he said I’d taken to fall asleep last time I’d drank thevaleriany?
Ten minutes?
We needed to move. Now.
I met his eyes, and all the measured control he’d exercised the moment before melted into a desperate need for action.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand.
I flung myself out of his grasp. “I’m not leaving you on this ship,” I snarled.
He glanced at the ceiling, then reached for me again, face suddenly hard as stone. “We don’t have time for this.”
“Then don’t ask me to jump without you. Iwon’tjump without you.”
“I can’t jump with you. I need to get a dinghy. How will we make it to shore without a boat?”
I paused. Glaring was difficult with eyelids that wanted to close, but I tried my best.
I was a Naiad. If I wasn’t worried I’d fall asleep underwater, I could’ve swum us both to shore. But sleep threatened to take hold. It drifted on the horizon of my consciousness like a storm over distant water, steadily drifting toward me.
Kye leaned in, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “You’re not leaving me. I’m just getting the dinghy.”
I shook my head. “You’re planning to fight.”
“I won’t fight.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well. I might fight.” I swung away from him, and he wrapped a hand behind my neck, bringing me back and kissing me again—rough and fast. Then leaned his forehead against mine, eyes shut. “I won’t fight. I’ll come for you. I made avowto protect you, Leihani. I’m not going to break it today. I promise—I’ll come for you.”
My heart pounded. My breath guttered. My fists balled themselves tight.
I’ll come for you.
I released a shaky gust of air. “Okay.”
He gave me a stiff nod and pulled me to the stairs. “Straight up and over the stern. Don’t look back. Go.”
I turned, my feet bounding to the upper deck.
The pirate oarsmen came into view first, intent on rowing. They heaved in unison, muscles bulging in their arms. At the steering board, Captain Kriska faced oncoming land, his back to his rowers. “Ho! Ho!” he shouted, leading their strides.
My eyes locked onto the stern, ten feet in front of me.
Kye’s boots pounded toward the nearest dinghy, tethered on its side.
Heads lifted in my direction—but I was already at the railing. I swung a leg over, finding a lip to hold my weight on the other side, and looked back.
I hadn’t even meant to look. I hadn’t even thought about it.
