Page 97 of His Noble Ruin

He stared at me for too long before nodding. “You’re right.”

“I know.”

I took my bag and headed to the tree line, but I kept my eyes on Graham until he crossed the black sand and disappeared into the woods.

I regretted letting him go the moment I lost sight of him.

ChapterThirty-Three

The closer thesun ventured to the horizon, the more I feared I’d made a huge mistake. The solitary peak cast strange shadows on the island, making the black shores even blacker. My eyes constantly searched the rocks and trees for some material I could work with and my ears stayed pricked for the smallest sound. So far, it was still and silent, not even touched by the wind.

I carried three knives. I scraped some bark from a tree and took it back to the boat to see if it might help patch the crack. The island was filled with scraggly trees and mounds of black, crumbling rocks. No cork, clay, or resin to be found.

I stopped by the boat and stuffed the crack with the spongy bark. I frowned as I put it in. Without something sticky, it wouldn’t hold.

I looked at the peak of the island, my anxiety for Graham demolishing my focus. If he didn’t get back before the sun went down, I’d go after him. I turned back to the boat, trying to force myself to think, but as I did, something across the water caught my eye.

A white sail bobbed over the waves in the distance, coming in from the north. It had to be Cael. Normally, the thought of him showing up infuriated me, but this time it gave me hope. If I couldn’t fix my own boat, maybe I could steal his.

The boat vanished around the curve of the island and I returned my gaze to the trees. A shout broke the stillness, echoing off the mountain and rebounding back.

Graham.

I sprinted toward the sound, knives in hand.

Yells rang out from somewhere on the mountain—or was it just echoing from there? I darted into the trees, but the voices seemed to come from the other side now. I stopped and suppressed my rapid breathing so I could listen.

A shout from my right. No, left. They echoed off the rocks beneath my feet and the black cliffs ahead. Panic took hold when I realized I wouldn’t find him soon enough.

But I could make sure they foundme.

I climbed to the top of a giant black boulder and shouted with all the volume I could muster. A flock of birds took flight from the surrounding trees, screeching as they flew over me. The islanders couldn’t miss me now.

Sure enough, several shouts rose up at once, the words unclear, but the intent obvious.

I reached for my belt and drew a knife, letting the sheath fall to the boulder at my feet. I held the steel between my thumb and forefinger and lifted my arm.

The shouts consolidated and came closer. I turned to greet them.

One by one, men came into view on the rocky ground below me, holding up crude clubs and spears. They were mostly shirtless, with ragged clothing and long hair. They were exactly the kind of barbarians that every Cambrian pictured when outlaws were mentioned.

Next came Graham. Alive. But the three spears at his back threatened to change that.

“Bryn!” He stumbled over the rocks.

“Shut it!” A man with dirty gray hair tied back in a ponytail nudged him with his spear.

I launched my knife at the man’s feet.

He jumped back and dropped his spear as the knife pierced the place he’d been standing.

The gray-haired man picked up the knife and smirked. “Missed, blondie.”

I yanked the other knife from my belt. “That was just a warning.”

“Ah, you don’t wanna do this,” he said. “I’d hate for word to spread tellin’ that I was killed by agirl.”

A skinny boy with a sparse patch of hair on his chin snorted. “That wouldn’t do no good for your rep, eh, Keane?”

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