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So I do. Water comes from all directions, and my hands are slick, my feet skidding on the deck. My teeth clench so hard that I taste blood.
Just when I’m worried I’m never going to be strong enough to keep a grip, Rian appears. His hair is soaked from the constant surge of seawater, the wind making it difficult for even him to walk.
“I usually have Sablo,” he shouts. “We’ll have to do it together.”
I shift a bit sideways, to give him room. He reaches to grab hold just as a swell strikes the boat, tipping us dangerously sideways. The wind grabs him, and I see the panic in his eyes as his feet leave the deck. He’s going to go over.
I reach out and snatch the edge of his jacket. For a terrifying moment, I don’t think it’ll be enough, that he’ll rip free of my fingers and that will be the end of him.
But the ship rights itself and he slams into me.
“I told you to hold the wheel!” he snaps, right in my ear.
“You’re so very welcome,” I snap back.
But then the wheel tries to wrench free of my grip, and we both grab hold, side by side, riding out the stormy sea together.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Corrick
We don’t pull free from Chaos Isle until darkness falls over the ship, and the sea suddenly grows calm, fog moving in over the water. The ship is eerily quiet. Casualties are many, including Silas, who must have gone overboard during the fray, leaving me with Rocco as my remaining guardsman. Bella is gone, too, no longer tied to the mast where we left her. I haven’t seen Gwyn, and I’m afraid to ask after little Anya, but I hear from Lochlan that Rian’s lieutenant is patching a hole in the galley with her daughter at her side. There’s a gaping hole in the deck where Marchon died, and most of the railing is gone along the bow. Apparently there’s another hole belowdecks, but nothing below the water line, which is why we haven’t sunk. Most of the surviving crew have retired to catch a few hours of rest, and I’ve told Rocco to do the same, but there’s no chance I’m sleeping anytime soon.
At midnight, Tessa has spent hours patching injuries andstitching wounds, and I convince her to rest as well, but I head above to find Rian.
He’s at the helm again, which shouldn’t surprise me, but it does. I have no idea where things stand between us, but I haven’t been tied to a mast again, which seems promising.
I stop at the top of the stairs that lead to the helm. “Permission to approach, Your Majesty?”
“Very funny,” he says tersely. “What do you need?”
“I was hoping you might finally be honest with me.”
“You mean after your countrymen killed my navigator?”
I flinch. I hadn’t fully considered that regardless of who sent those ships, Kandalan forces really did attack his crew and kill his people.
But Kandala isn’t the only country at fault here.
“Yes,” I say. “After you hid your identity, lied about your motives, andyourcountrymen killed my guardsman.”
He looks over. It’s too dark to make out much of his expression, and I wish I’d brought a lantern.
“You should have stayed out of that room,” he says.
I study him. He might be a strong sailor, but if any of his story is true, he hasn’t been the king of Ostriary for long. I wonder how much of what’s happened on board this ship could boil down to his inexperience. “And you should have approached Harristan as a king intending to establish a trade agreement with a neighboring monarch. Regardless of what you think of me, my brother is a reasonable man. He would have listened. He would have negotiated. My very presence here should be proof of that.”
He glances over again, and says nothing.
“You brought me on board with the intent to begin negotiations between Kandala and Ostriary,” I say.
He snorts a bit derisively. “And how do you think that’s going?”
“I’m standing here, aren’t I?”
I wait. Water slaps the hull down below.
Eventually, Rian sighs and runs a hand across his jaw. “You said I should have approached your brother as myself. I thought about it—but at first, we didn’t know King Harristan was in power. What I said about King Lucas was true. There was bad blood between Ostriary and Kandala, stretching back decades. The old king may have been my father, but—” He scoffs. “The old king was alotof people’s father. I was raised as distant kin to royalty. Even when he died, I didn’t want the throne. But everyone elsedid, and the islands started to turn on each other. I truly didn’t speak many lies. I really did sail the waters looking for survivors. I just wanted to help. One of those men was Captain Blakemore, and I learned his story. I met his son. I helped him rebuild this ship, and we helpedmorepeople. I gradually formed a crew, and as we helped more and more people, they began beggingmeto defend them. Before long, I had people on every island swearing allegiance, begging me to make a claim for the throne. But Oren Crane still held the southern point, and everyone was tired of fighting. We were desperate for steel to rebuild. I promised the people that I would seek a new trade agreement with Kandala, but everything I knew from Captain Blakemore warned me to be cautious.” His voice has grown a bit hollow, and he stops there.
