Page 22 of Ballad of Sea and Sky

“Marina,” Zephyr said, shaking my shoulder to pull me back. “You alright?

“Yes?” I started, turning back to the first mate. “Where is the blockade?”

“Blockade?” Zephyr asked, frowning at me. “What blockade?”

“The siren blockade that stops our people from leaving the Isles,” I said, feeling silly for having to remind her of her own people’s military strategy.

Zephyr’s eyes widened, understanding creeping in. “Ah. That blockade. We haven’t done that in over a century. Too many resources wasted, and not enough reward.”

“A century?” I gaped, thinking over all of my father’s warnings and the scholars’ teachings. “But that can’t be right.”

“Afraid it is,” Zephyr said apologetically. “Come on, Princess.”

I took one last look at the deep blue of the ocean at sunset, filing away Zephyr’s revelation to examine later.

“What is that sound?” I asked as we continued toward the other end of the ship.

“The song?” Zephyr asked, continuing toward the center of the deck.

“Yes,” I replied, jogging a step to keep up with Zephyr. I tried to remember what Astraios had called the songs sung on deck. “Is that a shanty?”

Zephyr choked out a laugh and shook her head. “No, Princess. Shanties are joyful. That,” she sighed, looking up to gaze at something high above us, “is the captain. He gets rather dramatic at sunset.”

I followed her gaze, up the tall center beam that held the sails high and past several cross beams to a tiny bucket-like object. It was dizzyingly high, but sure enough I saw a booted foot and a white wing hanging over the edges.

The song that wafted down was both beautiful and tragic, and Zephyr waited so I could listen to a verse.

Horizons meet in a kiss so sweet,

And dance in harmonious tune.

Where sunsets bleed and tides recede,

And twilights fade too soon.

In nature’s dance they took their chance,

To join together, whereby,

The gods refused, the pair accused,

The ballad of sea and sky.

So sing of sea and sky, my love,

The tale a sweet lullaby.

A story of old, a dream so bold,

The ballad of sea and sky.

“Captain!” Zephyr shouted next to me, her voice breaking the spell of the song. I shook my head, trying to dislodge the words and tune that were clearly magic as Caspian’s head appeared over the side of his tiny perch. “Sorry to interrupt,” she shouted, clearlynotsorry, “but you’re needed below deck!”

“I was just getting to the best part,” he shouted back, standing and slinging something gold over his shoulder. “Have you no romance in your soul, Zephyr?”

“None, sir,” she replied, giving me a look that complained of males in general. I smiled faintly, watching with my heart in my throat as Caspian descended. His wings were clearly still too injured for flying, wrapped in bandages to keep them stable, but he practically flew down the ropes and crossbeams like he had been traversing them all his life.

I tried to ignore the thrill that the sight of his muscles, taut as he descended, sent through me as Zephyr called up once more. “I think, sir, that you have enough romance for us both.”