Page 135 of A Sea of Fate and Starfire

“Yes, I am a Naiad,” he said almost desperately, eyes latched to the red apple in my hand. “I recognized it in you. I know what you are.”

My mouth thinned. “And what am I?”

“A princess of sirens.”

My head exploded with a thousand questions, but I didn’t have time to ask all of them now. “And what did you want with me?”

“Vládca Skorpió. The Rivean King’s nephew. He is searching for Naiads to fight in the war against Calder.”

“You believed I might fight for him?” I asked, my voice flat.

“I knew he was looking for Naiads, and I planned to give you to him.” The Rivean’s eyes climbed to meet mine. “But knowing you were married to Calder, he likely would have killed you.”

“Why don’t I feel a cold prickle at my neck when I look at you?”

He blinked, still frowning, as if asking himself the same question. “I used to feel it as a boy. Before they rubbed ash in my eyes.”

Something raw and rotten dropped into my belly. If it had been the ash of shield weed, I couldn’t imagine the level of pain he’d been subjected to.

I resisted the urge to glance back at the stairs behind me. Light from Aras’s lantern would find me before a guard did, and with Naiad hearing, I’d be alerted before they ever saw me. But I didn’t enjoy the thought of trying to sneak out after the guard had returned.

“Are there Naiads among the Rivean crown?”

Kazimir laughed in a don’t-be-so-stupid kind of way, waiting for the next question.

I retracted the apple. He jerked, fear flashing in his eyes. “Is Oberon dead?” I asked.

“Oberon,” he echoed slowly, as if tasting the bitter salt of the sea after decades away from the ocean.

“You would have been a child when he died,” I guessed, searching for clues to his age. His eyes were young, his skin smooth and devoid of wrinkles, and his mouthful of teeth were white and straight—but it was always difficult to tell with a Naiad.

“I know him.” His gaze dropped to the apple, unwavering. “The Rivean emissary, some twenty years ago.”

“You know him?” A small flurry of hope unraveled like a shining ribbon in my ribs. “He’s alive?”

Kazimir’s stare cut to me in the dark, hard and heavy and suspicious. As if he’d caught himself in a trance and realized I’d been the one to hypnotize him. He stepped back into the cell, his face dropping into shadow. The hunger in his voice dropped as well. “What do you want with him?”

Unsure what I’d done to spook him, I held the apple a little closer. Close enough for him to take it, if he tried. He didn’t move. “Is he alive?”

“He’s dead.”

The flurry of ribbon fell to the floor. “I see,” I said quietly. “Do you know anyone who would have been close to him?”

He watched me as if he couldn’t decide whether I was a lifeline or a threat. Like he didn’t trust my apple to be anything other than a death sentence. “Yes,” he whispered. “I was.”

“You knew him personally?”

No response, though from the flare behind his eyes, I knew the answer.

“How did you know him?”

Distant steps scuffed against stone, thin strands of light nearing the corner. I was out of time. It must have shown in my eyes, in the way I paused, reached for my satchel.

“Time for you to leave,” he said, quiet enough to send a chill through my skin.

"Please.” I tossed one final glance behind me, then set the apple through the lattice of his iron gate. “How did you know him?”

Kazimir tilted his head slowly, ignoring the fruit I’d left inside his door. “My mother left me with him.”