Hunt on Dark Waters (Crimson Sails, #1)(18)

He gives me a long look. “If you’re thinking of escaping, I will remind you yet again that it’s an impossible task. Even if you could find your way to one of the islands that contain the portals out to the various realms, a full half of them are actively hostile to humans. Even down to the air, Evelyn. I realize you didn’t choose this life, but surely it’s better than dying.”

Of course it’s better than dying. But being free is significantly better than being actively conscripted into what is starting to feel like a cult. “Look, I won’t pretend I’m not considering escaping, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

“Lizzie.” The derisive way he says her name irks me. He’s dismissing a threat he really shouldn’t.

“Yes, Lizzie. This is serious, Bowen.”

He studies me for a long moment, and I hate that I can’t quite cover up my fear. At least it’s useful in this moment. His dark eyes go soft and he sighs. “Very well. Come here.” He pushes to his feet.

The sheer size of him is so damned distracting. No one should be that big. It’s rude, honestly. I almost smile before I remember why we’re having this conversation, and then my fear comes rushing back. It doesn’t matter what he says, but all information is worth having, so I rise and follow him over to the desk I clocked when I was in here earlier.

It was dark while we ate, but when Bowen waves his hand over it, the surface flares to life. It must be keyed to him. Bright colors swirl, finally settling into what appears to be a map. It’s mostly blue with islands scattered throughout, some in black and some in purple.

I point to one of the purple ones. “Why is this different?”

“Not all the islands are stationary. Some migrate in regular patterns. Some blip in and out of existence on their own schedule. Tracking them isn’t a perfect science, but we do the best we can. Right now, a full half aren’t present because of various factors of time and season and their own internal schedule.”

I study it further, grateful to have something to focus on that isn’t what I’m running from—who I’m running from. I try to count them, but am instantly overwhelmed. “There are so many.” And each represents a realm just as large and diverse as the one I grew up in. The thought staggers me. I knew the universe was big enough to be unknowable, but the proof in front of me makes my head spin. “Wow.”

“You see,” Bowen says gently. “This is why I’m not concerned about a threat a single vampire poses. It’s no easy task to navigate Threshold, even if she were to somehow make it here.”

I’m not totally reassured, but maybe he has a point. “If you say so.”

“This is also why the C?n Annwn are necessary. This map represents the people who live in Threshold, yes, but it also represents lives beyond number. Allowing predators to use Threshold to slip in and out of other realms is out of the question.”

I don’t want to agree with him at all, even on this, but there are reasons we have some pretty horrific legends about monsters in my realm. And I’m not talking about the so-called monsters that are vampires or shifters or, yes, witches. I’m talking about the ones that destroy cities to get their preferred prey of choice. There’s a reason so many legends about dragons exist, and that quite a few of them have rumors of virgin sacrifices attached.

Not even the hunters in my realm would be able to take down a dragon.

Even so, it’s hard to blame a dragon for ensuring that it feeds itself when it’s been stranded in a strange realm. What is it supposed to do? Die? That’s ridiculous. Surely there’s an answer that doesn’t involve killing it. I don’t have one readily available, though, and I doubt Bowen will appreciate me questioning his beloved C?n Annwn further. He’s feeling sympathetic toward me now, and I’ll admit to being wowed by the map, so might as well try to foster some goodwill, right?

“So what’s your story?” Even as I ask the question, I tell myself I’m only doing it to get more information to leverage in my aim for freedom. It’s not because I’m actually curious. This pirate might be sexy in a kind of rugged way, but he’s rigid and unbending while I’m as fickle as the wind.

He’s also standing between me and my freedom, which makes him the enemy.

Again, he pauses so long I think he might not answer. Again, he surprises me by doing it anyway. “I was pulled out of the sea when I was thirteen. Right here, in fact.” He points to a spot on the map in the middle of the blue. “I have no memory of my life before then, and no idea how long I was actually in the water. I was in pretty bad shape when they found me. I’ve been on the Crimson Hag ever since.”

I stare at the spot. I don’t have any concept of actual scale, but it seems like it’s a very long way from any of the nearby islands. If the ship hadn’t happened to be in the area when he came through, he would have died. The thought makes my chest hurt. He was just a kid. “Seems like it happens a lot.”

“Like I said, not as much as you seem to think. But when people fall through portals that are glitching or otherwise interfered with, it randomizes their exit, which means they don’t always end up on dry land.”

“How many people die just because they drop into the water without a ship around?”

He hesitates. “There’s no way of having a proper number, but it can’t be that many.”