Her second thought was that she was going to be sick, the lingering scent of whatever had knocked her out remaining like a bad aftertaste. No matter how much fresh air she gulped in, it refused to fade entirely.
But when she opened her eyes, coughing and gagging and struggling against the ropes tying her hands behind her back, one look at where she was had her trying hard to ignore her rebelling stomach.
She’d smelled it in the air, the sea salt and brine, the distinctly fishy smell, combined with musty old wood and faint traces of wine and spice, but it was only as she glanced around the building she’d been dragged into that she realized she was inside a warehouse at the docks.
The space around her was piled high with leaking barrels and bulging sacks. Ceramic jars lined the shelves, wooden crates were stacked precariously on top of each other, and only the smallest of slitted windows at the top of the lofty walls let in any hint of sunlight. The floor was largely empty, the stored items arranged in neat piles closer to the walls, but the room was bursting with enough goods to hide Kiva’s line of sight to the door, indicating that she’d been carried deep into the warehouse. Even so, escape wasn’t on her mind. Not when she assumed this was her sister’s sick attempt at getting her attention again, the staged abduction too similar to her first to be a coincidence.
Only, this time Kiva wasn’t alone.
Lying on the ground beside her were both Tipp and Rhessinda, their hands also bound behind their backs. The young boy was bleeding from a head wound — causing Kiva’s pulse to skittle with alarm — and the healer was bloodied and bruised, though she was slowly returning to consciousness, pulling herself up into a seated position and looking around with a grim expression.
“I can explain,” Kiva blurted when Rhess’s eyes came to her.
“Are you hurt?” the healer asked.
“I’m fine,” Kiva answered. “But I need to tell you —”
Before she could apologize for their predicament, two of the largest men she’d ever seen walked out from behind a row of stacked boxes, one covered in tattoos, the other pale as milk.
“Which one of you is Kiva?” the tattooed man asked.
His strong accent made Kiva still, her mind clearing as the pungent drugs left her system, enough for her to remember that, according to Caldon, her sister hadn’t been the only one to try and abduct her nearly a fortnight ago.
“I am,” Rhessinda answered.
Kiva gaped at her and quickly said, “No, I am.”
Rhessinda shot her a look and hissed under her breath. “Shut up, and let me handle this.”
The words startled Kiva into silence. Looking at Rhess, there was no trace of the fun, friendly healer whom Kiva had come to know and adore. In her place was someone new, someone different, her face hard and her eyes staring at the two men as if her gaze alone could incinerate them.
“You put up quite the fight, dollface,” the pale man said to Rhessinda, his voice also thickly accented. He pointed to a long scrape down his forearm, then a deep scratch across his cheek.
“Loosen these ropes, and we can go for round two,” Rhess said sweetly. There was no fear in her voice, as if she was eager to fight him.
Something wasn’t right here. Something Kiva didn’t understand. Something she —
The pale man slashed his equally pale eyes to Kiva, cutting off her train of thought. “You’re here for two reasons, girlie, one of which is to remind your sister that our king is growing impatient. The Rebel Queen might be dead, but Navok still expects her side of the bargain to be fulfilled. Zuleeka Corentine has a debt to pay on her mother’s behalf. On your mother’s behalf. Make sure she knows that debt is overdue.”
Kiva felt the blood drain from her face, her sister’s words from Oakhollow returning with a vengeance: King Navok was more than happy to make a deal with the Rebel Queen.
Everworld help them, what had their mother done?
But Kiva didn’t have time to dwell on it, not when she now had confirmation that Zuleeka wasn’t behind this kidnapping. And perhaps worse, the burly man had just revealed exactly who Kiva was — and who her family was — to Rhessinda.
Dread flooded her, but when she turned to the healer with a denial on her lips, Rhessinda didn’t seem the slightest bit alarmed.
Or surprised.
“Gods,” Kiva rasped out as realization hit her, “are you —”
“The second reason you’re here should be obvious,” the tattooed man interrupted loudly, kicking her boot. It didn’t hurt, but it did make her scramble backwards until she hit a wooden crate. “You’re the bait.”