He swallowed thickly. “Calder.”
“Calder?The city?" I’d expected him to say he came from a ship, perhaps lost at sea like my mother had been. Up close, he didn’tlooklike a trader or a sailor, definitely not a pirate, but other types of people traveled by ship. “Calder is almost forty leagues from here.”
He said nothing in response, though his dry lips formed the wordsforty leaguesin disbelief.
“How long have you been rowing?”
He swayed, and I dropped to my knee to steady him, muffling a curse under my breath. His eyes flared at my touch as though I’d burned him, and I realized I’d left white fingerprints in the angry red flare of his skin.
“I left the morning before yesterday.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
I caught a scoff in my throat, impatient. “Why did you row from Calder tohere?”
You foolhung unsaid in the air.
“Where is here?”
“Leihani.”
Again, I watched him form the word with his mouth, recognition dawning. “The fishing islands?”
I could’ve laughed, had I not been in utter shock at the man’s obvious stupidity. Who paddles from Calder to Leihani in a rowboat?
“You didn’t mean to come here?”
As if sensing my thoughts, he clamped his lips together. His brows furrowed as he looked away, the sweep of his dark lashes hiding his eyes.
Calder was Leihani’s mother country.
The sun was thin there—or so sailors said. It was blustery from the mountains to the kingdom’s southern tip, and fog hung low over Calder City like a brooding, bad temper. He should never have reached open water.
At least, not alive. Not in that little thing.
He ignored my question. Lips peeled in an open grimace, he clenched white teeth as he scrutinized the angry blisters along his arms. A thin streak of blood ran from his elbow and off the curve of his wrist. I watched the drip, and I wondered how much pain he was in.
“What's your name?”
He slurred a word at me, something that sounded likeNmoklai.
I blinked. “What?”
The man cleared his throat. “Kye. What’s your name?”
“Maren.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said dryly.
I crossed my arms, my lips thinning to a white line. “You need to have these burns looked at by the village doctor, Kye. I’m sure you need more food and water, too. I think there is a Calderian ship moored at the pier. We can arrange passage for you back home, or if there isn’t room, we can at least send a message.”
Kye nodded, his brows pinched as I offered him a hand. He glanced at it, then pushed to his feet on his own, swaying slightly.
“Is there a dockmaster here?” He was taller than I expected, the top of my head ending at his shoulders.
How had I carried him onto the beach?
