Page 87 of The Stolen Crown

26

The Illusionist

The next morning, I fingered a large leather skin meant for freshwater. The runes embossed on one side were a love note of sorts meant for Seableeder from one of the sirens he visited at the Tower.

Winds from the storm washed up more debris from the Sea Void.

With each sunrise, I lost more hope that any of the wild, callous, loyal men of the Ever Crew had survived.

“When we return to the Ever, we must honor them.” My voice was a whisper, hardly there. In truth, I had not noticed how fiercely I clung to Seableeder’s waterskin until Tait eased it from my grip.

He tilted my chin with one knuckle. “I don’t feel they’re all gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“After we found Boneseer, when I focused enough, I could feel that he was gone. As in, his desires were no more.”

“I thought the ship blood bonds didn’t behave in such a way.”

“I don’t think it’s the blood bond,” he said. “It’s my sea voice. I started focusing more, trying to sense any desire of anyone nearby, and I could’ve sworn I felt a desire for survival, but it wasn’t mine. It wasn’t yours. It felt like Nightseer.”

“Nightseer?” My eyes went wide. “Gods, what if this means…Tait, they could still be out there, stranded on other isles or…We need to find them.”

“I have plans to do just that.” He pulled back. “After I see you safely to the Ever.”

“Beg your pardon?” My eyes narrowed. “I will not sit comfortably while the crew remains lost. I will go with you to find them.”

“You, Princess, will not be placed in this situation again.”

He turned, actually turned away, as though that was the final word about it. Annoyance burned in my veins. If he thought for one moment he could settle me in satin sheets like some idol made of glass, he would be promptly proven wrong.

With the pouch placed on the sand, I scrambled to my feet and hurried down the slope of the beach toward the water’s edge.

I kicked up sand so that it sprayed across the back of his legs. “You cannot tell me to stay back.”

Tait wore a look of such smug satisfaction I wanted to scream.

“Oh, but I can. One word to the Ever King about all this”—he waved a hand around, gesturing at the beach—“and he’ll be inclined to chain you up as well. Losing you would also hurt his queen, you see.”

Gods, this man was…he was…I could not even ramble through a word and merely let out a shriek of annoyance. “You, sir, are not my royal, my king, not even a leading voice in my kingdom. You do not command me.”

A startled gasp slipped from my lips when Tait gripped my chin, grinned, and tugged my mouth closer to his.

“But you said I could someday.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. “Well, you don’t command me on this.”

He dragged his nose along my cheek. “I will always try, for I do love to see your claws come out.”

“You bleeding sod.” I shoved against his chest. “You’re intentionally aggravating me.”

“No.” Tait raised one shoulder in a shrug and returned to gathering debris. “But I’m not surprised. Isn’t that what we do? I irritate you by being too protective, then you tell me to piss off, ignore everything I say, and descend into the chaos, blades raised, viciousness on full display.”

A tentative grin teased my mouth. “If you know I’m going to ignore your highly unreasonable orders, then why argue with me?”

At that, Tait paused. In his hands, he rolled a wooden box that once held paper smokes. Without looking at me, he went on: “If I showed no angst over the notion of you being harmed, I don’t know how you’d ever know I care.”

This bleeding man.