“It’s the name of a channel through Rivea. It’s famous—or infamous, I suppose. No ship travels through it. Any that try to sail through disappear. I don’t know how long it is, but I know Vranna sits at the base of it, where it’s safe again for ships to sail.”
My eyes cut through the cliff line, searching for the presence of another landmass across the waves, but there was none. From here, it looked like open sea. For a channel, it was certainly wide. “What’s in Vranna?”
“The largest trading port in Rivea. There would be Calderian merchant ships there.” My mouth opened, and he continuedbefore I could speak. “We’d also find supplies. Food, horses. Whether we take back roads or the main highway, we need to visit a market first. And probably two or three times more as we’re traveling.”
At my back sat the sprawling landscape. The barren, weedy terrain, devoid of trees, knit tight with shaky boulders and loose rock. The feral sea sat ahead. A sudden realization took up residence in my head—there were no birds here.
I’d seen birds the last day on the ship, but where they’d flown, I had no idea. My eyes scoured the land for signs of life, but nothing presented itself. I didn’t trust land that life refused to nest in. Birds only lived in habitable places—that there were none to be found spoke more than enough about our surroundings.
“What doesBrána Do Podsvetiamean?”
He ran his teeth over the stubble below his mouth, biting his crescent scar. “The Gateway to Caecus.”
I hesitated. “The Gateway to Darkness.”
Kye met my eyes and held them. “Yes.”
Unlike Aalto and Theia, people rarely mentioned Darkness's existence.
In all the realms I knew, men lived and died under the guidance of the sun. Women did the same under the love of the moon.
But no one prayed to Darkness. No one presented it with gifts or swore fealty to it. Darkness didn’t offer warmth or light. It didn’t help plants grow. It didn’t shift the tide or change the seasons. Caecus gave nothing to the world.
It only consumed.
That we stood along a channel named for it sent a creeping chill up my back, and I shook it away. I was a Naiad—there was little in the water for me to fear. Naiads were the fastest creatures in the sea.
“If ships don’t travel here, we’re safe from the pirates?”
“Unless they follow us through the cliffs on land.”
I nodded to myself. “And all we need to do is follow this coastline to Vranna? It will lead us there?”
He grimaced, brows pinched as he darted a speculative glance ahead. “In theory.”
“And you’d rather take a ship?”
Kye sighed, softly enough I might not have heard it, though his chest took its time deflating under his shirt. “I would, yes.”
“You could take one without me, if you wanted.” The words stopped my heart, even as I said them. I didn’t want him stranded here because of me. And it wasn’t fair of me to ask him to choose the road when he’d prefer the sea. Left to my own devices, I could easily dive in and follow any ship—in fact, I could probably outstrip them. The water itself didn’t unnerve me, named for Caecus or not.
Just the thought of wood, surrounding me on all sides, blocking out the light.
Even so, I hardly dared to meet his eyes, afraid I’d find him willing to go.
Wind picked up, bringing angry clouds over the waves, the scent of rain percolating through the musty air, and I knew he was watching me again. His golden eyes sized me up, taking in the conviction written across me. My chin lifted. My back straightened.
We stared at each other. Calculating. Counting nerves.
Kye’s eyes sharpened as he weighed the idea. He glared into my face, softened, and then glared again.
“Why would I do that?” he finally asked, more demand than inquiry.
“Because you’re still healing,” I answered, gesturing to the shoulder I’d just stitched. “And you’re a royal prince. A commander. You’re important. And because I can find my way.”
“You’re a princess of Calder,” Kye argued calmly, a faint growl under the words. “A future queen, if Hadrian—” He bit back his own thought, jaw hardening into a square line.
My brows tightened. “A queen is little more than a body in a chair. A vessel for birthing heirs.”
