Page 150 of The Stolen Crown

The sea thrashed against the hull of the Ever Ship. For the better part of the morning, my insides tumbled with each dip, each lurch. Still, Bloodsinger did not slow the pace, even urged the sea to propel us faster through the tides.

I would not tell the Ever King to ease up merely because my insides felt like they might spill out through my eyes and ears.

On all sides of the king’s ship, the noble houses and their vessels surfaced, waiting for direction.

“Do you need blood?” Erik’s brisk tone shook me from my nauseous thoughts. His crimson eyes tightened. “Your face is the shade of sea plants. If you need blood for healing, take it now. You and the men must guide us from here.”

What Erik meant was I’d better stand straighter or swallow his deadly blood so he could sing me back to health, for he had no plans to waste time.

I swallowed the heat in my throat. “I thought only Livie got your blood.”

“These mortals are a threat to my queen. For that, I’ll settle this once.”

He did not grin, not a single smirk, but inside my own heart, I knew the truth. The Ever King enjoyed our banter.

“I knew you cared for me. I’m fine, Ever King. But your kindness will never be forgotten.” I went to stand beside Swordeater and Nightseer on the quarterdeck.

Seableeder helped load the long, sleek ember spears, a strange, fiery weapon the Ever Ship used against enemies.

My daj stood at the stern rail scouring the skies. He’d not closed his eyes to rest, not once. He’d gone quiet after crossing the boundary to the Far Seas, silently looking for my mother. Each moment she did not appear, my father fell deeper into the darkness I’d first seen during the sea fae war.

My mother was still missing.

Tait was still gone.

“Seems right, wouldn’t ye say, lass?” Swordeater plucked an herb smoke from between his teeth.

The sight of it, the smell, all of it dragged out my thoughts of Tait. He’d not indulged in his smoking habit since before the isle. Pungent as the smell could be, I leaned into Swordeater, all to draw in a long breath, like it might bring me back a piece of my soul.

“Hard to tell without markers,” I said at last.

“Tavish, anything?” Erik spoke through a bespelled shell, speaking to his uncle on the ship nearest to ours.

Tavish hunched over a clay bowl filled with blood and herbs. I assumed he hunted for spell casts so he might break them. He lifted his own shell to his lips. His voice came clear enough those of us near the Ever King could hear.

“Something is near, Erik. Spell casts are close.”

The king’s grip tightened on the jagged handles of the helm. Livia’s palm curled over Erik’s forearm. She leaned closer, whispering in his ear. Whatever she told him, it eased the tension in Bloodsinger’s grip. He gave her a brisk nod, kissed her jaw swiftly, then, by Tavish’s direction, eased the Ever Ship to the portside, altering course just so.

Sander came to my side and squeezed my hand. “We’ll find him, Mir. And your maj.”

“How could we lose them?” A sharp crack stole my voice for a moment. “Surely they did not have so great a head start, but there is no sign of them, Sander.”

“I can’t answer that, but we will find them. These mortals are a threat, but they have made us a greater one.”

“I can’t lose them.”

Sander tugged me against his chest. “You won’t. Saga is a warrior queen. Tait is a man who survives.”

Survival. It was what Tait knew. It was what my mother knew. Both survivors. Both fighters.

“You know,” Sander said, “after Jonas’s vows, Alek and I made a wager about you and Heartwalker.”

“What?”

My friend’s eyes brightened. “It’s true. I said you would have the man in your grasp before Jul fêtes, and Aleksi said it would be longer. By next harvest. I plan to collect the moment I see Alek next.”

I snorted a laugh, but it burned against the steady anguish of not knowing what was happening to my Hearttalker.