A sharp hiss slipped through the Wraith’s teeth. “Donotpresume to know the first thing about me,” he snarled, his eyes flashing such a frighteningly pale green that Kit’s hand instinctively drifted toward his blade.
“What are you saying?” Kit snapped. “That you didn’t kill them? I saw her hand,Elden. I saw her bracelet.”
“But did you smell it?”
Kit turned very still.
Elden dropped his gaze to the ground, visibly burdened by thoughts he hadn’t hinted of possessing in that throne room. “I was hoping Avalon’s bracelet and the stink of rot would’ve been enough to cover the lie. Heads were too difficult. If I’d mangled the face of some stranger’s corpse, I knew he would never believe me. I took a lock of Avalon’s hair to make sure I convinced him.”
A full minute passed before Kit could speak again. “And the captain?”
“By the time the king asked what else was in the bag, the Dragon had clued in.” Which was why Killian hadn’t offered the captain’s hand to the king; he’d known it was a stranger’s hand, presumably dug up from some random cemetery. The Wraith had gone out of his way to make this believable; the tattoo on the wrist was indication enough. But one question remained.
“YoutrustKillian?”
The Wraith pulled one shoulder up into a lazy shrug. “I had no choice.”
Footsteps sounded behind them, and Kit turned to find Killian Erwyn Sylvana studying them with hard eyes.
“Gentlemen,” the Dragon drawled by way of greeting. “We need to have a chat.”
PART THREE
THE CHILDREN OF LIGHT
30
The cargo hold reeked of sweat, must, and fish, a medley of smells that wasn’t doing Avalon’s stomach any favors.
She heaved another time into the bucket, her hands shaking as she clasped the sides.
Hadrian was rubbing her back in a comforting motion, but despite that his presence was helping, she wished she could have some privacy. The last thing she wanted was for this handsome man to see her throw her guts up into a bucket. At least the reek of sweat, must, and fish was likely enough to disguise the smell of her vomit.
“I need out,” Avalon managed to say through clenched teeth. A bead of sweat dribbled over her lip. “How much—,” she swallowed hard against a wave of nausea “—longer?”
“I’ve never been to Aquatica,” Hadrian said. He thought about it for a moment, all the while scanning the cargo hold for any signs of life approaching. “But we’ve been down here for nearly ten hours already, and I’ve heard the islands aren’t far.” When Avalon clasped the bucket again, he continued his lazy circles on her back. “Not much longer now.” She could do this.
After parting ways with the Wraith, Avalon and Hadrian had argued about which stone they should go after next. And they’d argued, and argued, and argued some more. And although she still didn’t fully trust the Wraith, Avalon was somewhat thankful he had offered to look for the Moonstone and the last Tear. It pained her to consider backtracking, especially to set foot in the Realm of Ice after learning of her father’s schemes. And the Clan Hunter had said the last place anyone had seen the Moonstone was the Temple of Shadow, and Avalon had no desire to enter the living hell known as the Outlands. She would sooner stay in the belly of this gods-damned fishing vessel—and that was saying a lot.
So here they were, journeying to Aquatica—one of the last realms in Elderyn that still stood against the king. Avalon had overheard plenty of conversations between her father and his men over the years, and the main reason why he had yet to seize Aquatica was its location.
Far off the coast of the forest realm, Aquatica was a collection of volcanic islands that formed the letter A. With a large enough fleet, her father would have Aquatica in an instant. And he already had a fleet far grander than any the world had ever seen.
Then why does Aquatica still stand?she thought.
But then she asked herself why she cared. And threw up again into the bucket.
~
An hour later, their ship was still maneuvering the waves. The sweat on Avalon’s face had dried in a sticky film, and she sat slumped against Hadrian as they dozed in a corner of the cargo hold. Hidden as they were by barrels upon barrels of stinky fish, they could rest in relative peace. But the captain still kept a hand on the pommel of his dagger, and even when Avalon thought he might be sleeping, she would be proven wrong when his eyelids would fly open at the slightest change in atmosphere. Once a captain of the guard, always a captain of the guard.
She was certain her clothes would reek of fish for days. After traveling along the coast, they had come across the shipping docks at a small fishing village in the Forest Realm. It hadn’t taken long to figure out which vessel would be crossing paths with Aquatica; they’d hidden inside barrels full of fish and waited to be loaded onto the ship. No fishing vessels ever stopped in Aquatica, for the people had quite enough sea creatures of their own to feast upon, so they would have to get as close to the islands as possible before they jumped ship.
And then they would have to swim the rest of the way. Avalon was dreading it. She had little experience with the ocean; they had private pools at the House of Fire, where the water was shallow enough that drowning would be a difficult endeavor. More importantly, it was far too shallow for anything to live in. But the ocean…the ocean was a mystery that should only be admired from afar. Avalon had a distant view of it from her balcony in Hilsian, and she had no plans to become acquainted with it anytime soon. And an hour—tops—was much,muchtoo soon.
With a sigh, she reached into her bag that sat at her side and pulled out the mask. She hadn’t said a word to Sable in nearly three days. This was as much her journey as it was theirs, and Avalon was feeling guilty for ignoring her. Sometimes it was easy to forget that, unless Avalon was wearing the mask, Sable was as good as blind. Their last interaction had been in the House of Dreams—when Sable had saved her from the Skorpios.
While they were rowing back to the cove from Kaia Stormblood’s abode, Hadrian had informed Avalon that he hadseenthe warrior. Rose-gold hair that tangled about her shoulders, honey-colored eyes that flashed with the promise of death, and a body suit the likes of nothing the captain had ever seen—except worn by the Wraith. Hadrian said it must’ve been the House; that the truth was set free within its walls.
