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There were a few pegs that created makeshift staircases so folk could walk atop the flat stones. Valen, Stieg, and Sol followed me to the higher alcoves on the walls, high enough we could see over the pyre wall.

My stomach lurched. “The royal ship is here.”

I was certain they called it the Ship of the Ever, or the Ever King’s Ship, or some other pretentious name, but those blood-red sails were at our shores. The sea fae that manned the massive vessel were disembarking with blades, rope, and torches in hand.

Davorin stood back, his eyes locked on Hus Rose. On us. The distance might’ve been tricking my eyes, but I swore to the hells that mimicker was grinning. Like he knew all the secrets of our world.

Low, distant chants and songs from the sea fae cast a haunting tension across the shattered roads of Raven Row.

From the royal ship, a man descended from the gangplank, a boy was by his side. The boy kept his face pointed down, and the man would occasionally stop and swat at the boy’s head if he stepped too close.

Atop the man’s head was an odd hat, made of three points, likely stitched in leather. He approached Davorin and muttered something. The battle lord hardly looked away, but the sea fae glared at the burning gap between us.

“That is Harald,” said Valen. “Thorvald’s brother. I remember him.”

“He’s the bastard who threatened to return,” Sol added.

Valen nodded, jaw tight. “In ten turns. This is no coincidence.”

“Davorin played his hand well,” Sol said, voice rough. “We sent him to the sea. We bleeding sent him to find a new army. One filled with folk who despise us and will willingly fight for him.”

In this moment, I despised the Norns. They were cruel. Ari would blame himself somehow, no mistake. But as Sol told me, Davorin was slimy. A trickster. His moves were too unpredictable, and he had centuries of battle knowledge to use against us.

A gloomy tune rose from the royal ship when another boy, taller than the first, emerged. He paused at the top of the gangplank, taking in the broken Row. It was too far for me to gauge his expression, not to mention his head was covered in another one of those funny hats. But he was dressed in a black tunic, a thick belt on his slender waist, and the golden hilt of his sword caught the gleam of the morning light.

Crewmen shuffled around his back like a sort of shield.

The crewmen were the source of the gloomy tune. Their voices were ghoulish and dreary. Almost a touch mad.

I tilted my head, catching a few words.

. . . a man he’s not, we work we rot . . .

“Gods,” Stieg said with a small gasp. “That boy there. He’s . . . he’s the prince of the Ever Kingdom. Erik. That’s Thorvald’s son.”

Bleeding hells. My stomach tightened. I kept my sights on the boy as he walked, a bit stilted, down the plank. He kept his shoulder back in a smug confidence, and he had an . . . air about him. A darkness. But there was something more, something that almost tugged against me. Like he was important to know, to watch.

My Cursed King let out a long sigh at my side. “No, hear the song they sing after him?”

I strained to listen to the rest of the rumbling tune.

. . . no sleep until it’s through. A sailor’s grave is all we crave. We are the Ever King’s crew . . .

Valen frowned. His face was weary, his shoulders burdened when they slumped forward. “He’s not the prince of the Ever any longer. He’s now the damn Ever King.”

“When you meet the Ever King again,” I whispered, repeating the warning from the captured sea singer. “If you wish to keep your lives, I wouldn’t make him bleed.”

Valen and Stieg looked at me, brows raised.

“What does that mean, Cal?”

“It was a warning. We were attacked by sea singers. One of them warned us not to make him bleed.”

Stieg cursed. “Because his blood is poison. That was why the Black Palace took him as a tiny boy. But not only is his blood poison, it can heal great ailments. The boy must sing for his blood to heal; that is why Ivar and Britta tortured him, because he never broke. He never sang a word.”

I swallowed the scratch in my throat. Why was he important?

There was a connection here, some pull to my own seidr, and something told me this boy king had a part to play in it.