Page 60 of A Sea of Vows and Silence (The Naiads of Juile #3)

Cebrinne

D eimos dropped to his knees.

I twisted the blade. It was harder to do than I’d expected. I’d seen swordsmen do it before, though only once or twice. Stab an enemy and then twist, as simple and smooth as turning a key in a lock.

This wasn’t easy.

This ship might have been sailed by merchants, but the sword I’d selected was new. Polished and sharp.

Yet Deimos’s body protested my blade’s breach, his ribs clamping down on the sword before I could fully rotate it.

Immediately, I realized I’d missed his heart.

The instant death I’d hoped for waited minutes away instead.

His hands wrapped around mine, rooting me there to the main deck, warm and solid.

The scar that tracked across his cheek deepened as his mouth twitched in something like a smile.

“Finally,” he gasped. “I’ve been waiting ten years for you to do that.”

I’m not sure what I’d expected, but that wasn’t it.

I’d heard his voice once before, the night Vouri died.

But it sounded strange now. My fingers loosened in confusion, but his grip over me tightened, holding me in place.

“Where’s your sister? Not on her way to Cressi.

Is she headed north?” He rasped a hard breath. “To Winterlight? To Pheolix?”

I nodded, suddenly struggling to breathe.

He closed his eyes. “Thank Theia. I hope she gets him out.” A wave of content settled over his face. His right hand sank into his pocket. He drew it back out, opening his hand. In the center of his palm, a red drop sat over his lifeline, its waxy shell matte under the island sun.

“I’m like you,” he breathed. “A puppet trapped under Thaan’s thumb, my allegiance sworn to protect my brother.

Protect Pheolix. I gave my voice away, too, when Thaan asked.

He knows I boarded a ship while trailing you.

He heard what I heard, saw what I saw. But I found the last two of his sanguis proditionis . And twenty minutes ago, I took one.”

I flicked my attention from the single drop of blood betrayal back to him. Thaan knew where I was? My question must have been plain on my face.

Deimos shook his head. “Thaan hasn't been in the drones’ minds while we’ve been on the ship.

Just mine. Controlling them through me. I let him see the tickets you planted, a ship headed to Cressi.

But a year ago, the morning of the solar eclipse, I walked in on you and Selena looking at a map of Leihani.

You stuffed it back on the shelf to hide it.

I came back later and found it there. Then crossed my fingers, hoping that when you finally chose to leave, Thaan wouldn’t ask me if I knew where. ”

He’d known this entire time?

I stared open-mouthed at him, fighting to hold myself steady under a wave of shock.

Deimos laughed softly, releasing the sword to slide his hand against the side of my neck, landing just under my earlobe. His silver-wolf eyes sparkled softly. “You have to sink the ship.”

His knees buckled, and he fell forward. I caught him by the shoulder, reaching for the crisscrossed ties of his sailor’s shirt, searching for the entry point of my sword under the quickly growing puddle of scarlet at his chest. Wondering if I could do what Thaan could and heal it.

“Leave it,” Deimos said softly. “Leave it. Today I die. Today I die free .” His hand drifted from my ear into my hair, combing my raven-blue strands through his fingertips. The sun’s bright rays shone against the glossy strand, and he stared at them, transfixed .

“In a few minutes, you’ll be the only living soul on this ship.

Take the helm,” he whispered. “Ram the ship into the nearest rock. Make sure it sinks to the deep. If another ship finds us bobbing here, Thaan might come looking for you.” He found my hand, pressing the drop of betrayal into my palm.

“Live a day of freedom, Cebrinne. I can give you that much, after stealing your future from you ten years ago.”

He began to pull away, but I held his hand, trying to make him glance up at me. I’m not sure what kind of message I wanted to leave with him. Thank you seemed too small. Too futile. I couldn’t even say it out loud.

But his eyes glazed, a far-away look in their depths. He smiled softly again, reaching to stroke the air the way he might pet a dog. The remaining light evaporated from his eyes.

I stood slowly, backing away from his body. Silver glinted across his throat, his chain catching the sun. My throat was suddenly dry. I cleared it hard, the sound silent.

The helm stood not far from me, the deck bathed in bodies and blood.

I waded through. Red tracked behind me in bare footprints. At the helm, I lifted my skirt, letting a small patch of scales surface over my hip. Just enough to wedge the drop of Thaan’s blood into.

Then grasped the spokes of the wheel, throwing my weight to turn the ship.

It lurched, slamming me sideways. Sails snapped over my head, angry at the sudden twist in wind.

Wood vibrated below my feet. The ship wobbled, its highway of air now an awkward current.

I didn’t know how to read the wind, but I turned the prow toward volcanic Luaahi, the biggest island in the channel.

The ship’s bowsprit hung over the waves.

I watched as land floated closer and closer.

Slowly. Then slower.

The Cerulean wasn’t traveling fast enough. I needed more wind .

I circled the mainsail, my feet avoiding bodies, following the rigging where it knotted under the railing. The ship stalled when I freed the sheet, jerking backward under the lack of wind so hard I fell on my back.

The boom, a horizontal pole that framed the sail, swung wildly over my head. I scrambled back to my feet, pulling the control line taut and walking it backwards. The wind pulled back, the sail tugging me onto the tips of my toes.

I fought with it, wrestling wind and canvas.

A burn ignited in my calves and arms. Thick sweat erupted across my brow.

I heaved sideways, hunching my spine against the brutal tug.

It slipped once, heavy rope whipping my cheek, slicing skin.

I grabbed it again, walking backwards to a knob only three paces away from where it had been tied before.

My breath released as I hooked it under and pulled it taut with a foot against the rail. I hadn’t even noticed my heart, but it beat loudly now, a racket in my ears. The ship flung forward, twice as fast as it had before.

The island grew. And grew. And grew.

And the ship crashed.

Wood roared.

The world threw me.

The ship hit, and it didn’t stop. It kept moving forward, and as I lay over the main deck, I could feel the boards along the forward keel folding in half. One crack after another, as fast as a wick stealing a flame. Iron screamed, and The Cerulean shook as its anchor and chains wrenched away.

I pushed to my feet as the ship finally slowed. Make sure it sinks to the deep , Deimos had said. But wind pinned us down over the rock. Overhead, the mainsail remained full, the overflow of air so hard it swept across my skirt, flapping the cotton hard across my thighs.

I crawled back to the knot I’d tied only moments before, reaching for the free line.

My knot came loose at the first tug. The sheets freed, the cable flew from my hand.

I dropped to avoid the hard swing of the sail’s boom a second time.

One of the drones rolled into my ankle, knocking me sideways into a pool of blood.

Sticky, syrupy, slimy. My stomach contracted as I pushed onto all fours, creeping to the stern and hauling myself up over the railing for a better view.

The Cerulean gave a pained creak, swaying over the rock with every surge of the tide below.

Theia burn me, I’d meant to rent a hole in the keel, not run the ship aground.

We were in plain view here, all but begging for the next merchant to stop and investigate what had happened.

Hand out, I called to the sea. Pushed the water under the keel, cushioning it between wood and rock. And guided more in.

Bit by bit, the ship wiggled away.

Something wet dripped from my jaw. Blood smeared as I wiped it with the side of my arm. I gave an involuntary shudder, focusing again on the surf, gradually pushing The Cerulean away from land. The blue in the water deepened as the sea floor widened below.

The boom swung a third time, but I ducked out of the way, searching for my canvas bag.

Everything had shifted in the aftermath of the crash.

Crates weren’t where they’d been when we’d disembarked.

Barrels lay on their sides, one of them leaking wine in loud glub-glub-glubs .

More dark fluid spilling across the deck.

The water below was deep enough now to hide the ship, though the sea had taken over my job, pulling The Cerulean with each shove of the undertow.

I checked the benches, the masts, the staircase to the hold.

The waves reached higher along the keel, the starboard side listing against the surface.

The ship would soon capsize, the railing on the right of the stern visibly lower than that of the left.

I ground my teeth as the captain’s body swept across the deck, splashing into the water.

At my hip, my hand found Selena’s book, still tied with burlap to my sash. At least that was safe. Though I’d love to find my bag—

The winds changed.

The boom ripped to the side .

I heard it just before it struck me, a hammer against the back of my head.

For a moment, the world snapped to black.

One single moment.

I opened my eyes, and a field of stars blew across my vision. Behind them, the blinding rays of the sun so bright I could only squint.

Seawater lapped at my hair. It lifted the skirts of my dress, wrapping the fabric around my legs. I rolled onto a hip, sluggish. And realized I was floating.

The Cerulean existed only above the surface, the curve of the port-side railing breaching the water like some strange bridge to nothing. I’d planned to stay human as long as possible before transitioning to my tail and dashing through the sea to Leihani’s shore.

Mother moon knew how long I’d already sat here in the water.

Sidra knew, too.

The bodies were gone. My sword was gone. Debris drifted around me, a detritus of broken wood and rope.

With a small gulp, the Nahli Channel swallowed what remained of The Cerulean.

I watched it sink below. Now full of water, the sea hungrily dragged it down like a monster waiting in the depths.

A barrel floated nearby, and I grabbed its edge, summoning fins and scales, giving the water a cautious swish.

My eyelids drooped, my arms heavy. Instinct swirled in my bones.

Get out of the water. She’ll find you. She’ll find you.

But as I fought the rhythmic wash of the tide, I couldn’t bring power to my limbs. I’d caused the death of an entire crew, and the sea sought its revenge.

Either that or Sidra loomed somewhere below. Calling the water to slowly drown me.

A noise met my ears. A voice.

A canoe drifted from the center of a channel along the reef of that second island. Neris. The volcano island where Sidra’s stone rested .

I could just make out the shape of a man throwing nets into the water. He was singing, though his song was more of a chant. Carefree. Happy.

I pushed toward him, one fluke’s thrust at a time.

Waves washed over my head, my fingers loose along the barrel’s rim, a small quake in my arms. Maybe I’d been hit harder than I realized.

Maybe I’d been full of adrenaline, caught now in the consequence of its retreat.

Maybe it was the initial kiss of cursed blood.

My body settling the first score as I abandoned my vows.

I heard him gasp when he finally saw me.

A chain of Leihaniian words I couldn’t understand, though intuition made me wonder if he was swearing.

He stood between his oars, paddling to reach me.

A sigh of relief unfolded from my chest when the smooth surface of his little boat came to a rest beside my shoulder.

I cracked an eye against the bright sun to better look at him, but he was already leaning over the edge of his canoe, arm wrapping around my waist, hauling me up over the side.

I didn’t realize I was cold until he pulled me into his lap, resting my head against his chest and sweeping wet hair from my eyes.

Heat blazed from his skin to mine. He was still talking.

Asking me what happened. Where I’d come from.

If I was hurt. I stared at the tattoos painted into his arm.

Hard lines and stacked triangles, more pattern than picture, the ink so black his skin glowed.

His long, dark hair fell over my forehead, but he shook it away.

Theia in the stars, he was warm.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

Ceba , I mouthed. That was my name.

That’s what my sister called me.

But no sound came out.

He tilted his head, eyes narrow with concern, and I felt him lift the book at my side. Watched as he tugged it out of the burlap, opening it to the first page.

My heart sank at how waterlogged the pages were. The sea had washed Selena’s pretty words away. Only the greeting remained. To Alana .

The man tucked it under his bench seat, pressing an open hand against my temple, grounding me against his chest.

I listened to his heart thump quietly as he rowed back to his island. He smelled like cozy fire. Like tropical winds through coconut palms, like sandalwood and bergamot and the beach at moonrise.

Nearing the harbor, he slipped between two moored ships to the main dock.

Islanders shaded their hands over their eyes, pointing down to us, hurrying to discover what had happened.

I braced for Theia’s curse. For them to stare at me in puzzled horror, accuse me with their eyes and mouths of being a monster, a demon, a trickster.

Theia had said she’d shield me from it long enough for me to cordae .

She must have been telling the truth—none of them seemed to show anything but worry.

The man tossed a rope ashore and wrapped his arms under my shoulders and knees, standing smoothly in the wobbling canoe. One of them caught the other end, and the nearest men began pulling us in.

The Leihaniian looked down at me.

I glanced up at him.

Under the heavy sun, his eyes sparkled. Volcanic and black, like liquid glass.