In the Veins of the Drowning(91)

His brow knit like I was being ludicrous. “All right,” he said, flippantly. He sobered at my stern glare. Nodded. “All right. I will.”

“Good. Thank you.” I started for the Hercule feeling like my heart was close to rupturing. “Take care of them both,” I said over my shoulder. He flattened his lips, nodded his head, and disappeared into the crowd.

The gangplank bowed under my weight, and I held my skirt in my hands, studying the way the light shifted over the fabric. Purples and blues and greens swirling over its black surface. I made straight for the cabin the captain appointed me, locked the door, and tie by tie, I yanked the gown from my body, peeling away the vines and feathers like they were an old skin. A lump sat in my throat as I folded it carefully and set it safely at the end of the cot.

The twine burned my fingers as I tore it from the folded trousers and tunic. They’d been made to fit me. My fingers bumped over the little gold buttons down the back of the tunic. It was designed to be opened to make space for my wings.

I forced the tunic on, when clanging rang through the side of the ship. A tolling bell. A low, eerie horn reverberated through the air, pulling my muscles taut with its warning. I ran from my cabin, out onto the deck, where the crew was frantic. They hurried to retie ropes that they’d already undone. They looped the mooring line back around the cleat. Even the docks below were clearing, people running toward the cobbled streets of the island, away from the harbor.

The ship’s crew was starting down the gangplank. “What’s going on?” I asked a sailor, pulling her arm to halt her. Her cheeks were sun-weathered, freckled, and lined.

“Enemy ships,” she said, inclining her head out toward the horizon.

I had to squint, but I went deathly still when I saw them.

Those familiar smudges.

Those red sails.

Serafi warships.

Half a dozen Serafi ships sat on the line of the sea. The fleet moved toward the harbor quickly, their ominous sails full of a northeasterly wind. Beyond the breakwaters, Varian warships weighed their anchors and cast off. They moved at a clip, out to the open water. There were other warships docked too, hundreds of sailors on their decks, hurrying to get their vessels pushed away from their slips.

I felt an unfathomable responsibility for them all.

It was because of Theodore and me—joining our blood on the floor of that drafty chamber at the top of King Nemea’s crumbling fort—that they were now in harm’s way.

The rope above me bit into my palm as I gripped it and pulled myself up to stand atop the ship’s rail. I took in the whole of the docks. Another Varian warship was two slips away from the Hercule. Sailors readied the ship to sail, climbing over the rigging as easily as spiders did the strands of their webs.

“Your Majesty.” The Hercule’s captain looked up at me from the deck. His dark red hair was cropped short. The sun had darkened his skin with a thick covering of freckles. He narrowed his light brown eyes as he reached a hand up, a silent order that I come down. “Protocol states that the docks empty until the navy clears the threat.”

I pointed behind him, toward the warship. “I’m going with them.”

He spun to look at the ship. “Going where?”

“Toward the Serafi fleet. I’m going to sink them.”

He smiled, a patronizing twist to his brow. “The king and commander were very clear in their orders. You are under my protection till your task is done. You’ve set foot on my ship, you’re my responsibility now.”

The thought of being “his to protect” set a burrowing fury through the vacant space in my gut—where Theodore’s bond had sat. I had no time to reason with him. I refused to beg his permission. With half a thought, I threw out a silent lure. The captain only gave a shake of his head, then looked up at me with foggy eyes. “What the hell was that?”

My brow knit. The lure hadn’t hooked in. I remembered Lachlan’s letter—the entire crew was Siren-bound and therefore immune to my lure. I jumped down from the rail and blew out a frustrated breath. “I hope you’re prepared to grovel before your king, then, Captain, because I have no plans to remain under your watch.” I skirted around him, but before I reached the gangway, he grabbed the band of my trousers and hauled me back like I was a misbehaving cur on a lead.

I spun, breaking free of his hold, and threw my fist into the edge of his jaw. It was a poor punch, and a driving pain shot through my hand, but he went stumbling backward, groaning and holding his chin, nonetheless.

Heart as loud as the tolling alarm bell, I hurried down the gangplank. When the captain raced down behind me, I threw my arms wide to keep my balance. The man was my height, thinly built, but I was hardly faster than he was. I took a turn on the docks, leaping over the corner where water sloshed up to wet the wood. His boots drummed on the planks, the sound growing louder as he drew steadily nearer. The port had mostly cleared now. Those who remained were naval sailors and soldiers, tending mooring lines before their ships pushed out to battle.

I sent out four lures and praised the bloody Gods when I felt them slice into the sailors before me, taking hold deep in their chests. It had been effortless. My command had hardly formed in my mind before the men obeyed it. Once I raced past them, they made a blockade to bar the captain, tangling him in their arms like an animal in a snare. I ran faster toward the warship, my power suddenly bursting through my chest more intensely than ever, a mass of hot, gurgling sludge.