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Horrified, I look up into the rafters, and there, sitting as pretty as you please, is a rock leopard the size of Ulfric. He flicks his tail away, looking agitated, and then he leaps onto the floor next to us.

I barely have a chance to get my wits about me before he lunges at Henrik.

14

Henrik

The breath is knockedfrom my lungs as I land on the floor. The leopard looms over me, with his paws anchoring me to the ground. My shoulder blades press against the unyielding floor, and the smell of the cat’s hot breath makes my stomach roll.

The beast’s sharp claws dig into my skin, painful but not slicing my flesh—not yet. A low hiss escapes the leopard’s mouth, sending chills down my spine.

I rack my brain, trying to figure out how to fight the creature without a weapon. My options don’t look promising.

Before I can come up with a solution, a thump sounds from beside my shoulder—boots smacking against the wooden floor. I turn my head to the side and find Devlin, the gnome who was traveling with Maisel.

I’m struck with relief. The leopard belongs to the gnomes, though don’t ask me what they’re doing here. I let my head fall back and attempt to draw in a full breath—a nearly impossible feat when the rock leopard is crushing my chest.

“Why are you here?” Clover demands, her voice laced with surprise and relief that’s as great as my own. “Howare you here? And why did your leopard attack Henrik?”

“He’s bored,” Devlin says, sounding listless himself. “He usually hunts this time of night, but he can’t prowl the ship.”

“Do you think you could call him away?” I wheeze, barely able to get the words out.

“Halvor, off.” Devlin idly snaps his fingers to the side like he’s reproaching a playful pup.

Reluctantly, the leopard retreats. I draw in a groaning breath, coaxing my lungs to work. Clover is at my side in an instant, hovering next to me with a concerned look on her face. It’s embarrassing…and yet, it’s no hardship to have her worrying over me.

“Are you all right?” she demands, helping me sit up.

I groan as I look down at my shirt. It’s torn, and the fabric is stained with blood that oozes from the shallow scratches on my chest. I shouldn’t have taken off my brigandine.

“You’re bleeding,” Clover gasps. Her hands flutter over me as she assesses the damage. “At least the wounds don’t look deep.”

“I’m fine,” I say, dismissing her concern. “I’ll have Pranmore look at them in the morning.”

Clover’s face shadows, looking like she’s about to wake our healer this instant.

“They’re nothing to worry over,” I assure her. “And I have bandages and salve in my cabin.”

She sits back on her heels and frowns. After a moment, she turns to Devlin. “You didn’t answer me.”

“We followed you.” The gnome crosses his arms and leans against an upholstered bench that’s shoved against the wall.

“We?” Clover looks around the room. “Is Maisel here as well?”

A moment later, the gnome woman steps out from under a chair that’s covered with a large white sheet—looking as grouchy as ever.

“Maisel!” Clover says, temporarily forgetting about me and my superficial wounds. “You’re here, too?”

The gnome woman only grunts, but she looks pleased that Clover is happy to see her.

“Why did you follow us?” I stand, irritated that I unknowingly chose the room with stowaways. If I had met Clover in a different cabin, I might be kissing her right now.

I clear my throat, forcefully dismissing the appealing thought.

Maisel and Devlin exchange a look. Maisel ends up answering, “We already told you. Gruebin commanded us to follow you, and that’s what we’re doing.”

“We didn’t mention you to the king,” Clover points out. “Who would we tell in Ferradelle?”