“The first lesson you taught me was to create and preserve life,” I finally said, squaring my shoulders as I turned my head toward her. “How many sailors have youkilled, allowing the island to believe it was me? How many sailors did you kill while my mother was alive?” An odd thought rattled in my mind, and I tilted my head at her, though my voice remained cold. “Did you claim to befriendswith my mother, too?”
The Naiads had never mentioned knowing my mother, but I knew the answer in the way Nori’s throat constricted. The way she reeled back, struck by my words. She glared into the sand, fists tight.
A horn blew loud enough to vibrate the inner walls of my chest.
Almost to the reef, I watched as the ship’s sails were freed, wind spilling from the canvas as they were set loose.
“Drop anchor!” came a distant shout.
My eyes shifted back to Nori, poised on the edge of the water.
“He will betray you,” she choked.
And then she dove into the water.
19
There were no docks on Neris Island.
The ship lowered its anchor into the waves, the links of its chain clattering against its iron hook loud enough to hear on shore. A dinghy followed over the side. Uniformed men scaled down the ladders, dark spiders in a narrow line.
I stood, watching as the dinghy approached. The odd sensation of feeling underdressed struck me as they rowed to shore. Calderians wore cotton fabrics that covered their arms and legs, and though I’d always been comfortable in my soft bark wrappings, I suddenly felt the need to cross my arms and curl my shoulders forward.
They climbed out one at a time, wearing clothes unlike any I’d ever seen. Cobalt pants and coats with too many buttons to count, sewn in strict double lines from waist to breast. The sailors formed a severe line, halting sharply, faces unsmiling as they stood at attention, their hands resting on their sword pommels.
Two of them held the dinghy still as Kye swung his leg over the side, dropping into the sand. He’d already changed into clothesthe shade of night, his face clean shaven. My heart pounded all the way up my throat as he crossed the sand, stopping just before he reached me.
“Hello again,” he said, the words as hard as stone. His eyes traveled over my face with apathetic interest, his mouth twitching in something like triumph.
My legs wobbled, icy panic rising in my throat. The softness in his gaze as he’d kissed my hand an hour ago had been replaced with something else entirely, and my body suddenly screamed for me to run. I braced my feet to flee, and he snatched my arm before I could, dragging me into him.
His hands were cold from the sea air, his eyes hard and unfeeling. Even his minty smell had been replaced with the pollution of a ship’s scent, smokey and virulent. Pain lanced down my elbow, still sore from the pop I’d felt the day before, but I twisted anyway, my feet churning in the sand as I tried to shake his grasp.
“Let go,” I ordered.
Kye smiled, pulling his knife from his belt. He shoved the tip under my chin, and I went still, neck stretching away from the blade. A wave of adrenaline crashed through me, but I’d gone paralyzed with fear and blind confusion.
“Kye,” I said, but his smile only deepened as he stared into my eyes.
Behind him, a man strode onto the sand, careful to avoid touching the water. He might have been my father’s age, and just as tall, though any similarity they shared ended there. He was slender, his back straight as a rod, and he narrowed his eyes as his gaze roved the island, the corner of his lips curled in vague distaste.
He didn’t look like a ship’s captain—though it was clear, as he crossed his arms behind his back and gazed down his nose at the sandy shore, that he held some position of authority.
His eyes landed on mine with cool superiority, like I should thank him for being so gracious as to step onto my island.
A cold prickle ran between my shoulder blades, and I wondered if Nori was watching.
“It’s not her,” the man said, coming to stand beside Kye. His eyes cut mine like daggers, his cheeks hollow, his skin dull. It looked like any moisture in his body had evaporated long ago. “But she’ll work. Give the order.”
“Maren of Leihani,” Kye said, pausing for me to affirm my identity.
Chin over his knife, I glared at him.
“In the name of His Majesty, King Emilius Laurier of Calder, you are hereby under arrest for the crime of Witchcraft. You are to be taken into custody, effective immediately.”
My jaw hardened, my nails biting into the muscles of his forearm, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.
“Evidence for your crimes has been counted and recorded by multiple witnesses from the island Leihani and myself. You’re accused of the seduction and kidnapping of at least six Calderian sailors, and the murder of the islander Naheso.”
