Caz translated. “They say to tell you that one could argue that whoever cast this spell to disperse the storm could have let you and your crew drown. They chose not to, which would imply that it wasn’t cast by your target.”
“They said all that?” Captain Varrik asked.
“Meep.”
Caz translated again. “Yes.”
“Whoever cast this spell clearly cared more for what was right than what was the law,” Kiela said. She’d thought before that he seemed like a good person. She hoped with every bit of her heart that she’d been correct and hadn’t misjudged him. He had a choice here, whether he saw it or not. He could think for himself and decide what was right. “You can care too.”
Captain Varrik looked back at his ship. In a low voice that didn’t carry beyond them, he asked, “Tell me: Is she safe? Is this the life she wants?”
“It’s certainly better than the alternative you’re offering,” Caz said.
He nodded, looking unhappy. “But if it wasn’t . . . If I came offering the crown . . .”
“She doesn’t want it,” Kiela said.
“You’re certain. She won’t—”
“She neither wants to overthrow the government nor die from it,” Kiela said. “She told me she wants an ordinary life.” He could make the right choice. She knew he could. If he wanted to badly enough. “But you know her a lot better than I do. What doyouthink she wants?”
“She never wanted power,” Captain Varrik admitted. “Or anything that I could offer her.” He sighed heavily, and Kiela began to hope. She glanced at Caz, who was vibrating slightly with either worry or fear—she couldn’t tell which. Kiela held out her hand, and Caz reached up a tendril and took it. Larran took her other hand.
They waited, hand in hand and hand in leaf.
Raising his voice so that others on the dock could hear, Captain Varrik said, “I’ve received word that a traveling sorcerer was able to dispel this storm. We’re all quite grateful for that bit of luck. His timing was excellent.”
“It was excellent luck,” Kiela agreed loudly.
He strode back to the rowboat and began barking orders—two of them would row him back to the ship, while the rest would assist the fisherfolk. “I’ll send some of my crew to help with storm repairs, at least until we are ready to proceed on to the next island.”
As the sailors climbed out of their boat to assist, the Caltreyans on the dock cheered. Shortly, they were all working side by side. Once his men and women were all assigned to useful tasks, Captain Varrik climbed into the rowboat and returned to the ship, leaving Kiela, Larran, and the two sentient plants on the dock. He did not look back.
“Meep?” Meep asked.
“He chose kindness,” Kiela said. She wanted to sink into a puddle of relief. She smiled down at the spider plant. “Caz, you did it.”
“We did it,” he corrected.
“Meep,” the cactus agreed, as Larran wrapped his arm around Kiela’s shoulders and kissed her cheek. She hugged him back.
Kiela offered to Caz, “Want me to carry you back to solid land?”
“I’ve got this,” he said confidently.
As one of the fisherfolk hauled a boat closer, the water sloshed beneath them. Caz clung to the boards of the dock with his leaves. “If you don’t want—” she began.
“Yeah, just carry me.”
Bending down, she scooped up her friend, while Meep climbed up into the pocket of her still-wet skirt. Her arms full of leaves and Larran by her side, Kiela walked off the dock and through the flower-strewn town.
Chapter Thirty-Six
FOUR MONTHS LATER
Kiela stirred what was supposed to be apple jam and wondered if she’d mashed it too much.Can’t mash it less now.Caz peered into the pot. “It looks like applesauce,” he said.
“I guess we could sell applesauce.”
