Page 33 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

She nodded, scurrying to the cabinet overflowing with dishes.

Arenna despised this damned cabinet, its contents always threatening to spill out whenever the Hadley hit rough seas.

She had picked up bowls, plates, and cups more times than she could count—until one day she had grown tired of it and jammed a wooden spoon into the handles to keep it closed.

“Here you go,” she said, handing him a small stack of plates.

“Listen, Iris, I wanted you to know it’s been really nice having you down here with me.”

Arenna smiled, warmth blooming in her chest. “It’s been really nice for me too, Thomas.” There was a comforting sense of reassurance in knowing she could find friendship again.

They worked in silence for a few minutes, chopping, peeling, and preparing dinner for the crew.

Then, Thomas opened his mouth to speak, only to snap it shut again.

Puzzled, Arenna set down her knife and potato. “What is it?”

The cook paled. “Do you hear that?”

She listened intently, but there was not a single scuff of a boot, not the crashing waves against the belly of the ship, not a word. “I hear nothing.”

“ Exactly .” Thomas grabbed his curved sword from the cabinet beside his hammock and shoved it into his belt. “Stay here,” he barked, sprinting up the rickety stairs.

Arenna snorted. Grabbing her own dagger, she raced after the cook.

Dark clouds rolled in, the blue sky hardly visible. A chill hung in the briny air, a phantom wind raising every tiny hair on her body. Arenna fell in step beside Thomas, who groaned upon realizing she had ignored his command. Together, they looked out toward the ocean.

A massive wall of fog loomed in the distance, reaching as high as the sky itself. Where gray met thrashing waves, the sea had turned a deep crimson.

Even from afar, she could see its eerie hue. “What is that?” she dared to ask, raising her voice to a whisper against the unnerving quiet on the deck. No one moved a muscle; the crew was entirely still, their attention fixed on the fog.

Kayson appeared on the uppermost deck, resembling death itself in all black. Sharpened blades hung at both hips, and a row of small knives was sheathed diagonally across his chest. His hair fell in wavy strands, loose on his head, framing a jaw that was always neatly trimmed and sharp.

A black fur cape brushed the floor, secured by a brooch she couldn’t make out over his right shoulder. He seemed . . . different .

Broader, taller, deadlier .

Arenna quickly turned her attention away from him and the lethal aura he exuded.

“We’re crossing into the Siren Sea,” Thomas mumbled.

The name rang a bell from the world maps she had studied in Brookworth.

It was a stretch of water that lay between the two continents.

She had always wondered why it appeared smudged, but now she realized it was intentionally darker to mirror the crimson waters surrounding them. “Why is the water red?” she asked.

Thomas stiffened. “Hundreds of ships have been lost in these waters, along with their crews—likely slaughtered by Sirens. Legends say the water is stained red from the blood of those crews, and that there was so much loss that there wasn’t room for any blue.”

A cold wind swept across the deck, and Arenna huddled into her cloak, wrapping it tightly around her arms. With the ship’s speed, they would be in the fog within minutes.

She vividly recalled the leather-bound tome she had discovered one day while roaming Brookworth’s library.

It recorded all the creatures that predated the Rot and those that emerged after it.

Medryds had seemed so ridiculous, she could hardly believe they once thrived in Pheanixios.

They resembled humans, but instead of legs, they had beautiful scaled tails and webbed fingers.

“ Living among the ocean floor ,” her mother used to say. They had lived like humans above the surface, possessing the ability to breathe underwater.

After the Rot plagued these lands, it was said the Medryds had been wiped out, transformed into rotting abominations with fangs and talon-filled fingers.

“Sirens are cold-blooded, evil creatures who take the form of women. Beautiful beyond words but rotten to the core,” Arenna whispered, reciting the text’s chilling words.

“They were once Medryds, and now forever trapped as. . . Sirens?”

Thomas nodded. “Vicious creatures. The fog gives them an advantage at sea, making it nearly impossible for crews to pinpoint their attacks.”

Just like the ferals. “You’ve seen them?”

Another nod. “Only once. They reveal themselves when it suits them. There’s no rhyme or reason to their attacks.

One moment you’re navigating through the fog, and the next, you’re battling creatures of the Rot that bleed black.

” He turned to her, curiosity igniting in his gaze. “How do you know so much about them?”

“There was a time in my life when all I could do was read,” Arenna said, swallowing hard.

When the Rot first arrived, no one understood its nature.

It started slowly; some townsfolk felt tired, sluggish.

Healers categorized it as a new illness, but seemingly overnight, those affected became rabid and deranged.

Whatever the Rot was, wherever it came from, it transformed people into beasts and animals into monsters.

Thomas’s gaze fell. “A horrible thing, the Rot. Ever seen a feral?”

“Once,” she replied, doing her best to suppress the memories of that day in Burwood.

“Glad you made it out alive,” he said, offering a sad smile.

“I haven’t encountered one, and I’m bloody thankful for it.

” Thomas adjusted the grip on his sharpened sword.

“Sirens are the closest I’ve come, but the tales I’ve heard about the land beasts .

. .” His voice trailed off, his eyes glazing over for a moment.

“I’ll stick with the water. But hopefully, I live to see the day when there’s no Rot at all. ”

Arenna offered a closed-lip smile. “Maybe one day,” she said softly.

Their ship moved steadily toward the fog. Directions were shouted by various crewmen with Captain Danny leading the calls. Men scurried about the deck, snuffing out lamps and tying back sails.

“We’ll get through it,” Thomas said with a not-so-reassuring shrug. “There hasn’t been a Siren sighting in months, so maybe we’ll be lucky.”

Arenna intended to reply, but the fog now enveloping the tip of the ship halted any words she might utter. She held her breath as the gray devoured the Hadley , the last remnants of the sun winking out behind them.