Page 84 of Cursebreaker

I whirl, expecting to find someone watching me, but there’s no one there.

Still, I feel it—that presence. Those eyes.

Titus takes my hand, inclining his head. “Everything all right?”

I twine my fingers with his, my gut twisting. “What if it’s just another clue?”

Another flash of lightning. Another roll of thunder.

“Then we keep searching,” Titus says, his expression hard. His thumb strokes the back of my hand, slow, purposeful—as if he were memorizing the feel of my skin. “As long as it takes.”

The wind howls, pelting us with thick sheets of rain as Charlie and Gabriel lower our jolly boat. We’re blown sideways, but Owen uses his affinity to keep us from smashing into the Starchaser. Titus focuses on holding the waves at bay the best he can as we meet the surface of the water. Diana holds down the tarp that covers our supplies—rope, tools, weapons, and a few days of provisions, just in case the search for the Tidesinger takes longer than we hope. Rook and Lewis grab hold of the oars, awaiting Owen’s command.

“This is it,” Owen shouts over a boom of thunder. “Aster?”

He draws a dagger from a sheath at his hip, a crack of lightning illuminating his silhouette—his hair, plastered to his forehead, the subtle red glow of his eyes.

I present my hand, palm up.

Titus, seated beside me, turns away, his hands raised, teeth gritted as he fights against the choppy waves that threaten to capsize our jolly boat.

“Here goes nothing,” Owen says.

He slices my palm.

Drip.

The pain stings, but I set my jaw, holding my hand over the side of the boat to let my blood trickle to the water below.

I glance at Titus. His eyes are shut tight, his nostrils flaring. A cord in his neck bulges.

I hold my breath. Owen leans over the side of the boat, his expression nettled. He curses. Scowls.

“I’m sorry, Aster,” he says with a sigh. “I really thought—”

“What’s that?” Lewis peers over the edge, his keen eyes narrowing. “There’s… light?”

I let out a shaky exhale.

The night at Castle Grim, when I rescued Titus from the dungeons, the water appeared to glow a bright, phosphorescent blue. Now a sapphire light shimmers on the surface of the waves, almost sentient.

It twirls, as if trying to get our attention.

“That’s… new,” Rook says.

This way, comes the familiar voice of the sea.

My heart leaps. “Follow it!” I shout over the roar of the storm.

Rook and Lewis don’t hesitate, grabbing hold of the oars once more and rowing us in the direction of the blue glow—toward the cliffs in the distance.

My stomach churns as we’re battered by the waves, but Titus and Owen work in tandem, carrying us swiftly toward the island, maneuvering through a deadly maze of rocks.

The blue glow moves at our pace, never straying too far ahead, and it isn’t long before we break over a wave, past a cluster of jagged stone, and—

“There!” I point at where the blue glow disappears through a sliver in the cliff face.

They guide the jolly boat to the narrow cave opening. The instant we enter the tunnel, Titus and Owen slump against the sides of the boat, panting for breath.