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The man hurried to aid the others in docking, leaving us alone near the stern.

“Thoughts?” Mira whispered.

“I don’t like it.”

“They have us here. Don’t you think they would’ve bound us the moment we were on board? Why be friendly at all if they meant us harm?”

“I don’t know,” I insisted, voice rough. “But I just don’t like it.”

“Keep watch on the hearts around us then,” she said, lifting her palms. “I feel glamour. How powerful it will be, I can’t say, but if you sense anything, I’m game to fight if you are.”

One night. We could survive one more night.

The ship sidled alongside a long, wide dock. More men with fur cowls and heavy cloaks caught the rope and secured the ship in place. Torches cast haunting shadows across the surface of the wood, and each post held totems of bones, shredded cloth, and feathers from bright birds like those we’d seen on the isle.

A hatch opened on the side of the bulbous hull, much like the Ever Ship had a hidden opening. From within, men heaved tangled nets of glistening fish onto the docks.

The strangers worked in haste. Soon enough, the nets were unloaded and hauled to a row of troughs where the fish were loaded.

“Come.” Osatt beamed and clapped my shoulder again. I wanted to retch. He guided me forward. “Meet Djur. You dine with our king.”

The township near the shore was sleepy. Few lanterns burned in the windows. Homes were simple, made of dark wood walls and twig-and-sod rooftops. A constant breath of fish and damp soil filled my lungs, but it reminded me a great deal of lower townships across earth fae kingdoms or smaller areas in the Ever, like the dark isles.

Small farms of strange waterfowl with blue warbles, tusked hogs, or strange goats with double cloves on their hooves lined the back edge of the township.

By the time we arrived at a wide rocky staircase built into the cliffside, most of the men had scattered throughout the township, likely returning to quiet homes and families.

True, they’d given no hint of threat. The clan seemed almost…thrilled to have newcomers, as though they did not see new faces often. Still, tension in my shoulders, my neck, and my grip on Mira and the blade never eased.

Moss and lichen speckled each stone step. Ahead, tall torches cast a warm glow on the dark wood walls of the large structure. Arched windows made of blue glass and golden trim marked the front, and narrow lancets took the back.

“Tait, look.” Mira pointed ahead.

The corner of a stone wall jutted forward from the side of the palace. A grand courtyard garden of sorts. Archways with endless vines and blossoms decorated the garden, trees overflowing with round pomes stretched toward the stars, and shrubs with pale berries on each branch were orderly and trimmed along pathways.

It was not the sight of a garden that drew us to a halt. It was the foliage. Every tree, shrub, and vine seemed filled with molten gold, like on the isle. Like liquid heat flowed through the veins of the leaves, the boughs of the trees, and the rolling roots.

“What trees are those?” I called to Osatt.

The man patted his chest. “Ours, sea fae. Pretty, no?”

The garden was like another world.

Through a pair of arched doors, we stepped into a wide hall that seemed more like the throne room of the palace back home. Air was chilled from the stone walls but carried a sharp taste of citrus and scent of lantern oil.

In the center was a long wooden table lined with heavy benches. Along the walls were smaller tables. Built in one corner was a stone inglenook. The flames of the Far Seas crackled and writhed in a deeper shade of green than the blue of the Ever and the hot gold of the earth fae.

Placed atop a stone dais was a wide-backed chair made of endless woven twigs, bones, and branches.

Beads dangled from leather strands. The glass clanked together when a man stepped through the shroud.

His body was inked in grand patterns of runes and lines, telling a fierce tale from his chest to his back. Like the other men from the ship, this man wore his dark hair shorn on the sides and a jagged ridge down the center. Bones were tied within his long beard, and shards pierced his ears.

The new man opened his thick arms wide. “Welcome! I have been told we found new friends lost to the tides.”

His accent was not as heavy as the others, and only when he pronounced certain sounds did I catch a roll of the tongue different from the Ever Seas.

“I am Djur, king of Eilifur.” He gestured to the benches. “Sit, please. I am certain you’ve had a trying journey if you were found so near our shores.”