Page 159 of A Sea of Fate and Starfire

“You idiot,” I fumed, watching the hue of his skin brighten. “You dumb, foolish, reckless tree-trunk of a man. I hate you and I hope to never see your stupid face again.”

The words spilled out, ragged on my breath. He smiled pathetically at me, reaching to wipe one of the tracks from under my eyes. Or maybe I was the pathetic one, dissolving into the vibrance behind his eyes. His scent washed over me, mint and herbs and thunderstorms and promises made under the stars. I tried to smile back, but it was watery. “I didn’t think you could follow me here.”

His thumb tracked my jaw, shifting across my chin. “There’s no corner of the world where my steps won’t follow yours.”

Aitne cleared her throat, reluctantly. “My Queen,” she said, “may I look at your wound?”

I’d forgotten the small gash in my stomach. It hadn’t hurt at all, but at her reminder I leaned away to look down at it, my teeth clenching at the sting.

“Come on, filthy traitor,” Nori said, though her voice was almost affectionate as she stooped to pull Kye’s arm over her head, helping him to his feet to give Aitne a proper view. He stumbled as his legs straightened, but slowly he eased into his own weight, standing tall enough on his own that she had to drop her arm away and steadied his chest instead.

“I’m all right, Nori,” he said. My Oculos gave a small nod before stepping in close to Olinne, her eyes trained on him in case he fell.

A small gasp came from the tunnel.

Its ceiling had rented into two halves, one side of the wall tilted awkwardly into the other. The Naiad wandered out from the tunnel, nervous determination stolen over her hard mouth. I recognized her; she’d been one of Aegir’s grand council. She stared at Aegir’s body, strewn over the floor.

“Who drank his blood?” she asked.

Our gazes swerved to Kye. He blinked in surprise, running a hand over his mouth. “I did,” he said, breathless.

She nodded. If she was shocked by the idea of a human consuming Aegir’s blood, she didn’t let it show. “And your name?”

“Nikolaos Laurier.”

The Naiad reached for the spiked leaf of a nearby Aero plant, crimson blooming from her fingertip as she slid it over the thin barbs. Hands clasped, eyes closed, she bowed her head.

“Nikolaos Laurier, Videre of the Venusian Sea. Today I vow to you my blood and loyalty.”

Diara’s face was the first I saw, waiting at the low-hanging rocks of the cliff. She bounded to her feet when our eyes met, dashing to the edge. “He did it,” she said, waiting for me to climb over the ledge before cradling my face between her hands. “I knew he would do it. I knew he would—YOU.”

Kye’s eyes flicked up at the accusing tone in her voice. He flinched to the side as she whirled on him, beating him with the back of her hand.

“You-left-without-me-you-insufferable-horrible-rotten—"

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, angling himself against my back as if it would protect him.

Aitne caught Diara’s hand, seawater streaming from her long hair. “Abuse him tomorrow. I don’t want to heal anyone else tonight.”

Diara’s jaw jutted. She held out her hand for me, a small golden ring in the center of her palm. Then turned on her heel, green skirts rustling as she stalked back to her place along the ledge beside Pheolix and my father.

The drone’s gaze was sharp, aware and alert behind the worried clouds in his eyes. “Did you bring her back?”

I crossed the ledge, fitting my ring back on my finger before taking his hand in mine. “I’m here.”

His fingers pulsed, a slick shine coating his irises. My throat narrowed, and I swallowed the feeling down, knowing he was thinking of the other Naiad stolen from these palace grounds. The one we had not yet brought back. My attention drifted to Ano, who was watching me with a sense of unwilling caution, as though he wanted to snatch me up but worried he might overwhelm me.

“I’m fine, Makua,” I said, exhaustion unraveling at the sound of my own voice.

Pheolix’s eyes widened. “You cordaed.”

“Yes.” I shifted as the cliffs grew quiet against the rhythmic tide. “Kye traded his life for mine.”

Hadrian had already embraced Kye, was walking him toward the wine-grower’s son, murmuring softly. He glanced at me over his shoulder before his focus slipped to Aitne, waiting with an open hand to help Cebrinne climb out of the water. Something in his gaze made my stomach cramp, my mouth suddenly dry.

Soft, heavy fabric slid into my hand. Cebrinne stepped away, the water from her hair and dress slowly evaporating, my pocket in the center of my palm. I rolled the stones together through the satin, ensuring they were both inside.

Aegir had landed on a hip when his blood turned toxic in his veins, and my mother had kicked him with the flat of her foot to retrieve the stones, ignoring the shocked breaths from the members of his council only moments after the colony had sworn their loyalty to a pale and disbelieving Kye in the colosseum of the main colony room. The scent of dread had followed him since, sweet and acrid against the seaside wind, leaving a twinge of guilt between my shoulders. The man who had run from a fate as King, only to wind up the Videre of a colony he barely understood and couldn’t even reach without help.