She makes some sort of mark across her chest, and Larus repeats her gesture. “God protect her,” he says.
“I am sorry for what I said to you,” says Octavia, holding out a hand for me to shake. It doesn’t seem like she’s insulted me much, but judging from the heaviness of her tone, she must have injured me greatly from her own perspective. “A friend to Larus is a friend to me.”
I take her hand and shake it firmly according to Selaran custom, which surprises her. “Such a grip. At least you taught her something.”
We chat for a time as the boat slowly drifts back downstream. I was right about her age—she’s in her early thirties, though she hasn’t yet married and, like Larus, doesn’t intend to. She serves as a spy and a smuggler for Larus’s mother, her vessel capable of going places larger boats can’t travel.
“This is not my only ship,” she explains, “but she is my wiliest one. She’s nearly impossible to spot unless you wield shadows yourself. And even if you spot her, she moves so light and quick you’ll never catch her.”
Even without nautical experience, I see how a ship like that could come in handy. I’m not certain she’d be willing to help us beyond what Larus has already asked of her, but I’ll do my best to stay on her good side just in case.
It’s easy enough to do since few people have more grievances with House Verran than I do. When at one point she suggests Larus should have stolen me and raised me back in Port Limin himself, I agree wholeheartedly.
“I would love to see it,” I say. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. To see the world.”
“A voyager’s heart,” says Octavia.
We join her in raising a glass to that—a strong, dark rum that surprises me with its sweetness—and for a moment, I can almost forget everything that has happened. I could travel with Octavia,sleep in a bunk beneath the wheelhouse, maybe take the place of the shadow-born twins for a time.
But as Faros comes back into view, I think of Ronan. He would come with me if he could—he’d charm Octavia like he charms everyone else, anti-Selaran leanings or not. But there’s an entire war between us and the journey we planned together. A war with my own family, a war that we can’t all possibly survive.
This life, the life I’d choose for myself, will have to wait.
I head out onto the deck once more as Octavia raises the shades to navigate theUmbrathrough a winding passage of the Mara. Larus stays below to rest, unable to adjust to the near-total darkness without the candlelight.
Around the bend, Faros comes back into view. Somewhere up there among the flickers of torchlight, Ronan is waiting for me.
Or at least I hope he is. Gods, what must he have thought when he woke and found I wasn’t by his side? Did he think I betrayed him? Abandoned him? Could he believe that I’d lied to him all this time, that this was part of some plan I had to help my family?
It’s what I would think. What I would think of everyone except him. No, I realize. He wouldn’t think that of me. Everyone else around him would, but not him. He wouldn’t consider the possibility of me betraying him even if I told him I was doing so outright.
Gods, he’s so foolish and naïve, and I just love him for it so much.
Maybe he hasn’t even woken yet. I slept through the entire day yesterday after the battle last night, but I felt him coming and going from time to time, I think. He was likely up most of the time, working with his advisors on a plan. Calling his legions, inventorying his supplies. Moving up all the plans we made, the plans we thought we wouldn’t have to carry out until more than a week from now, if ever.
Maybe he’s still sleeping up there in the palace, blissfully unaware that I’m gone. Maybe I’ll be back to him before he even knows I’m missing.
Because if he does try to find me, where will he look? He can’t feel me from this far away. I’m sure he’ll suspect my family, but he must know that he can’t break into their war camp and steal me back from underneath him. But would he try anyway?
I’m honestly not sure.
The best thing I can do is get back to him before he does anything stupid to get me back. I head back in to ask Octavia how long the journey will be at this speed, and she has bad news for me.
“We can only travel this way by night. The shadows won’t do in the day. In an hour or so, just before the sky begins to lighten, we’ll slip into the marsh and lie low until nightfall tomorrow. That’s how I’ve tracked Larus. We’ll keep an eye out to see if anyone is in pursuit.”
“That won’t work,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. “I need to get back before first light.”
“To your king?” She cocks her head to the side, her expression curious but otherwise unreadable.
I can’t see the point in denying what I am to him. It’s well-known in the court and at least suspected among the common folk who attended the Great Festival. I’m certain Octavia has heard the rumors if she’s been in the area for a few days.
But I also know that being Ronan’s…I’m not sure what the word is for what I am to him. BeingwithRonan makes me valuable at this particular moment. Valuable as a hostage, a pawn to use against him. It’s what Larus convinced Adria I could be, and I’m certain she won’t be the only one to realize it. “I am loyal to Selara,” I say simply. “And Faros is under siege. They were raising the booms as we left. Even with a ship that can crossthem, the Gap is sure to be contested. I’m not sure theUmbracould withstand open battle.”
She smiles as me tightly. “TheUmbracan withstand more than you think. But no, I would prefer not to risk her as well. I would like to get you to Faros tonight, but I’m afraid I have only one wind-born aboard. Even if we raise the sails, we won’t make it.”
“The oars, then.” I’ll row by myself if I have to.
“Too much of a risk. Look, once we reach the marsh, you can continue on foot if you desire. They may allow some civilians to pass if you’re lucky, or perhaps if you tell them who you are.”
