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“No, truly. They say it protects Pontia from our enemies and can tear apart massive ships before the sailors aboard even know what is happening below the ship. And some say it is as long as four battleships lined up, with four rows of teeth. Others say it only appears that way because of its massive tentacles."
Kallie scoffed. “Surely a myth.”
"Myths, legends—what makes them any different from the stories in our history books? We believe in those stories, don't we? And aren't myths based on some truth?"
Kallie shrugged, her grip on the railing loosening. "All right.Ifthis creature is real, how do Pontians manage to escape it?"
He turned around, his back against the railing. "We follow the traditions."
She looked at him. "Traditions?"
He tipped his chin and she followed his gaze. Squires and his men were throwing buckets of liquid into the water. The right corner of Graeson's mouth turned upward. "Blood of the enemy."
Kallie inhaled sharply, and Graeson chuckled. "Only joking. It's the blood of goats and some of their organs of course."
"That's disgusting," Kallie said, and just thinking about it brought on another wave of nausea.
He wrinkled his nose, the expression softening his features. "When you think about it." He shrugged. "So just . . . don't think about it."
"Great advice. Thanks." Kallie shook off the image, then her eyebrows quirked in confusion as she thought about the logic behind the act. "But how does that help? Wouldn't that attract it?"
"Think of it as an offering or a sacrifice. If you want something from the gods, you provide an offering in exchange. The goat is our offering to the Kraken.”
Kallie nodded slowly. She supposed it made sense, although it still seemed odd. Then as she went to pose another question, the boat hit a wave. She lost her footing, stumbling. But Graeson's hand found her waist, stabilizing her.
They stayed like that for a moment. She should move, but for some reason, she couldn't pull herself away. She couldn't even look away from him. Their eyes were locked onto each other as though there was a magnetic charge between them, keeping them from pulling apart.
At some point, this man had ceased to be an enemy. At least not in black-and-white terms. She had grown up hating the Pontians, believing them to be a kingdom full of selfish, reckless, arrogant people. And while Graeson was arrogant, his actions reckless, and his stubbornness selfish, he didn't feel like he was the enemy. But what did that make him then?
All she knew was that his palm was warm against her side, a simple comfort she hadn't experienced in a while.
She was no longer their captive. Now, she was here by her own doing. She could have left many times. But in the woods, watching this group of strangers fight to protect her stirred something inside of her. And staying with them did not have to mean Kallie had to give up the crown King Rian promised her. She could return to him after she spent some time with the Pontians. She could learn how to strengthen her gift. She could uncover the truth about her past, how she ended up in Ardentol.
She would find a way to have it all.
One of the crew members tossed a bucket onto the ground and the sound caused Graeson to pull away. The magnetic pull weakening. He cleared his throat and brushed his fingers through his hair, messing it up, the ends scattering in different directions. Kallie stared at the hand that had provided her a moment of peace, then quickly turned away from him as she focused back on the waves.
If she wanted the Frenzian throne, she would have to keep her distance. Or may the gods prevent any rumors from spreading. It was different before when they were traveling alone and before she knew the truth. Before, getting close to him served a purpose. Now . . . now things were more complicated than she could have imagined.
"Anyway, if you're hungry, there's food down under," Graeson said, his voice carrying an unusually awkward tone.
Kallie shook her head. "Not hungry, thanks." Which was only partly true. But she needed to forget about what almost happened. She didn’t need any distractions—as fun as they could be.
From the corner of her eye, she saw him nod. For a moment, he lingered, tapping his fingers against the railing as though he wanted to say more. Then the moment passed and he abandoned her at the edge of the ship.
A breeze swept by and Kallie hugged herself, the chill of the ocean peppering her skin with goosebumps. This next stage of her journey would be long, she could feel it on the mist of the ocean.
* * *
Kallie swayed in a hammock,a bucket gripped in between her hands, eyes scrunched shut as she tried to refrain from puking her guts out. Once Graeson had left her side, she had grown tired and had needed to lay down, so she had made her way to her room. Yet sleep once again evaded her.
The ship rode over a large wave, gliding in the air. That second of airtime was enough to cause her stomach to flip. She brought the tin bucket she had found in her room up to her face and dry heaved.
After she regained her ability to breathe, she heard someone knocking on her cabin's door. She groaned, unable to make any other intelligible sound, and hoped whoever it was had heard her. Or just left her alone. Preferably the latter.
A second later though Terin peered through the cracked open door. Her enemy-turned-brother stared down at her with a concerned look. He had given her a similar look when Kallie had tried to escape the camp that first night with Myra. Had he felt guilty for pretending to have abducted her? For playing a part in killing her guards? Or was it full of pity? Pity for the girl who knew little about her heritage and nothing about the supposed truth of her upbringing.
And although a day had passed since the news, Kallie still did not know how to act around the twins. If they were truly her brothers, her flesh and blood, then she supposed she should make an effort in forging some bond with them. Even if it was only a small one. She tried to force a small smile onto her face, but the twitch of her lip was forced. She knew it, Terin knew it.
