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Without a word, I turned from my chamber, ignoring the few calls of my name. As though lost in a dream, I drifted over the deck, down the hatch, to the back cell in the brig where Hesh’s assassin sat against the corner, his legs outstretched, ankles crossed.
I had the barred door unlocked in the next breath, my fist curled around his throat. “Tell me where she is!”
He spluttered.
I slammed his skull against the wall once, twice, a third time until blood dripped off the wood splinters.
“Erik!” Aleksi stepped into the cell.
“Get back, Bloodsummoner.” I dropped the assassin and tugged a knife from my belt to cut a gash over my wrist. “How many times can I poison you until you’re too corrupted for the gods to accept?”
Hesh’s crewman held up his hands, trembling. “Please.”
“We’re beyond pleading.” I stabbed the tip of the knife throughhis ribs, just enough to draw blood. “Don’t want you to lose too much; I want your head clear enough to feel every bit of this.”
“Let me live!” The man caught my wrist, my blood seeping through his fingers. “Let me live, and I swear I will tell you everything I know.”
Coward.
I pulled away, aware there were more observers beyond the cage now. With the hem of my tunic, I wiped some of my blood away on my wrist, a twisted grin on my face. “Agreed.”
The man let out a long breath and slowly rose from the floor. “You . . . you will never find the isle.”
“Piss poor answer.”
“No.” He held out his palms, a weak shield between us. “You will never find the isle without Lord Hesh. He has been marked by a spell that allows him entry through the wards. And I know . . . currently, Lord Hesh is not on the isle. He left it to send us to find you and make plans on how best to begin attacking the earth realms. He’s confident a new king will sit atop the throne soon and wishes to waste no time.”
The twins paled. Alek clenched one fist, his other hand on the hilt of his sword as Celine offered her version of comfort, which came out more like declarations of slitting throats in their name should anything happen to his fathers left behind.
Valen and Stieg had not ruffled. Stieg even wore a smug grin, like the notion was irritating more than frightening.
“What is this mark or key to the isle?” I spun the knife, a silent reminder of what would come of him should he lie.
“I-I’m not entirely certain, all I know is it was done by the sea witch, and it is permanent.”
I tired of this game, these complications keeping me from my songbird. “What more do you know?”
“Nothing.” He dropped to his knees. “I swear, My King. I’ve told you everything.”
“As I thought.” I swiped the knife over my palm and clapped myhand over his mouth. Foolishly, he opened his mouth to scream. His hot breath, the damp of his tongue brushed over the blood on my hand. I pulled away, allowing him to fall back, already his veins burned black as scorched wood.
“You promised,” he cried. “You vowed I could live.”
“I allowed you to live as promised.” I turned at the doorway of the cell. “It was you who failed to negotiate how long.”
Windin the sails would take us to the House of Blades. But it was in the interim, during scheming and hating, that Sewell doused the king’s wine in sleeping herbs. Days since true sleep had taken hold, the bastard merely took my rest into his own hands.
I knew it within moments when I could not keep my damn eyes open as I strapped swords, knives, and daggers to sheaths on my thighs and belt, preparing to burn the House of Blades.
One moment I was standing, straight and sturdy, then the next I stumbled backward, half on the cot of the king’s chambers, half off. Sleep took me like death claiming breath from the lungs. I could not escape it, could not fight it.
I dreamed of Livia.
I never wanted to wake.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE SONGBIRD
