Page 25 of A Storm in Every Heart (Enchanted Legacies #2)

ODESSA, PRESENT

B y the time Elio and I leave the village of Storia and ride halfway to the nearest train station, my compulsion has worn off. He’s completely back to normal, just in time for me to realize that I don’t particularly like him.

He talks over and at me as we ride, droning on and on about the various virtues of Hydratta and how much I’ll like living there.

I can’t tell him I have no real intention of marrying the king, but neither do I care to listen to a report on everything from the weather to the recent tax yield.

If he was talking about the military, I might find that useful information to bring back to Daemon and Alix, but I can’t imagine they’ll care that a recent cold front has killed off all the radish crops.

“I was born in Hydratta, you know,” I tell the emissary, hoping that will make him realize that I’m not interested in a meticulous overview of the entire kingdom. “My father was a merchant who spent the majority of his time at sea, but our home port was in the capital of Hydratta.”

Elio looks sideways at me. “And your mother?”

“She passed away shortly after I was born.”

“Sorry,” he says shortly.

I flatten my mouth into a thin line and tighten my hold on my reins. “It’s fine. I don’t remember her.”

I’m sure the emissary realizes what my mother was—what I am—and perhaps it’s the reminder that scares him into silence for the rest of the ride to the train station. Whatever the reason, I’m grateful for the reprieve. It’s going to be a long few days traveling alone with Elio.

W hen we arrive at the station, I’m pleasantly surprised to see it busy and bustling.

I’d wondered if last year’s crash would deter the Vernalli citizens from traveling, but it seems not.

The train platform is full of Fae, and even the occasional other creature—pixies, dwarfs, and trolls to name a few.

The enormous red steam engine still bears the colors and crest of the last King of Vernallis, but the guards patrolling the station are dressed in blue jackets to reflect their loyalty to the new regime.

We leave our horses with a couple of Daemon’s guards, instructing them to return the animals to Storia, then go searching for an open compartment.

“I don’t care for traveling by train,” Elio confides as we walk down the thin aisle, peering into full compartments along the way.

“I don’t either,” I admit. “I was on the train that crashed last year.”

The emissary looks up at me in surprise. “Were you? How did you survive?”

“Oh…just lucky, I guess,” I lie, my heart thudding as I remember the accident—remember Kastian grabbing me and flying us out of the speeding train.

I shake my head violently. I shouldn’t be thinking about that—now, or ever. Mostly because of Kastian, but especially not when I’m about to ride the train again and my anxiety is already high.

We finally find an empty compartment near the back of the train. I sit on the red leather bench seat and I tap my fingers on the window, looking out onto the busy train platform. I wish I’d thought to bring something to do—anything, really.

“The last time I traveled from Vernallis to Hydratta was by carriage,” I say, just to fill the silence.

Elio sniffs. “Did you travel through the swamps?”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

He nods. “I’d never travel the swamps if I could avoid it. We’ll be taking a ship to the island.”

I nod in agreement—that’s what I assumed we’d be doing.

While it is technically feasible to travel to Hydratta by land, it’s not the easiest route.

Although Hydratta is often called an island, it is actually linked to the continent of Ellender by a land bridge that stretches several miles.

However, that area is swampy and dangerous, making ocean travel the preferred option.

Across the seas, there are two methods of getting to Hydratta: The traditional path takes around two days, while the quicker route can be navigated in just one night. However, the latter is fraught with danger due to the sea monsters and sirens that lurk in those waters.

At the thought of the sirens, an involuntary shudder travels through me.

I’m fine, I remind myself. There’s no need to go anywhere near the water.

Now that Elio has exhausted his monologue about Hydratta, he seems to have little more to say to me. If anything, he seems anxious, and I have to wonder if his dislike of traveling by train is more of a phobia than he let on.

We sit in uncomfortable silence as we wait for the train to start moving. I almost wish I’d waited for Jett to come with me—I don’t regret leaving, but it would have been nice to have someone to talk to.

The thought of Jett sends my mind spinning back to this morning, then to why I left so abruptly, and inevitably to last night.

I grit my teeth and close my eyes, as if I can physically force the memory of Kastian out of my mind.

I can’t think about that because I can already feel the floodgates beginning to crack.

I’d been doing so well channeling my frustration into hatred this last year and convincing myself that this version of Kastian was not the same one I remembered…

only now, I wonder if he hasn’t really changed at all.

The only thing he’s missing is his memory of me.

I lean my head against the back of the seat and close my eyes, trying to ignore the lingering thoughts and emotions swirling in my head and focus instead on my mission.

This is my first genuine opportunity to contribute to the kingdom, and I should be considering how best to gather information about Hydratta, while remaining diplomatic.

What feels like twenty minutes goes by, and finally I sit up. “Shouldn’t we be on our way already?”

Elio wrings his hands in his lap. “I’m sure we’ll be leaving shortly.”

A shiver of discomfort creeps up my spine, though I can’t pinpoint why. I dismiss it as leftover anxiety from the last time I sat on this train. I’m fine. Everything is fine.

Until, that is, I hear the screaming.

The shrill sound of a woman’s shout rattles through the train, quickly followed by more voices. I jump to my feet, panic rising in my chest.

“Wait, Lady Odessa!” Elio exclaims, jumping up too. “Stay here.”

“Not a fucking chance,” I blurt out, forgetting to be polite. “I’ve heard that sound before. I’m not staying here another second.”

I throw the compartment door open and dart out into the long hallway.

The only saving grace is that we’re not yet moving, and all I need to do is reach an open door back onto the train platform. I look left and right, momentarily frozen with indecision about the best direction to run.

The pause costs me everything.

The emissary’s small hand closes around my wrist and yanks me back into the compartment, slamming the door behind me. He grits his sharp yellow teeth at me. “Sit down.”

“Don’t touch me!”

He drops me, but moves to stand in front of the door, blocking my exit.

New dread sinks into my stomach. This isn’t right. The emissary seems far too comfortable with whatever is going on—like he expected it. Like he’s a part of it.

My eyes narrow, and anger surges in my chest, overtaking the fear.

I size up Elio—he’s shorter than I am, but still Fae.

I don’t think I can physically overpower him, so my only chance is to use my persuasion again.

I take a deep breath trying to calm myself—I’ve never had to do this while under threat, and I’m not entirely sure it will work. Or perhaps it might work too well.

Before I can gather myself, however, the compartment door opens again.

I don’t recognize the man standing in the doorway.

He’s tall, with short dark hair and a slight beard.

His skin is white, but sun-tanned, and he’s wearing the sort of clothing that I associate with sailors…

or pirates. He’s wearing a weathered black jacket, fabric faded from the sun and salt, tall boots, and patched trousers.

Completing the picture, he has a pearl earring dangling from one rounded ear.

I wouldn’t have had to notice the ears to know he wasn’t Fae—one look at the man’s handsome face has my brain screaming “human!”

Humans tend to be afraid of me on first instinct because sirens look far more alien to them than the Fae do. This man must have been in Ellender for quite a while, because he doesn’t even flinch as he leans around Elio and grins at me. “Hello, darling.”

The pirate steps inside the train car, and Elio moves aside to let him enter, then puffs up his chest as if trying to make himself larger. “Mr. Connel, I presume?”

The pirate raises a brow at him, looking disgusted as if the emissary is no more than a bug creeping along the ground. “Who are you? I thought it was just the siren we were looking for.”

“I’m Lord Elio, emissary to?—”

The pirate cuts him off. “Yeah…sorry, mate, but I don’t care.”

“What—” Elio begins indignantly.

With a swift motion, the pirate draws a long, gleaming knife from his belt. In one brutal thrust, he plunges it into the emissary’s stomach.

I let out a loud gasp as Elio’s eyes widen in shock, his breath catching in a strangled cry. He clutches his abdomen, blood seeping through his fingers as he crumples forward, collapsing onto the hard bench seat.

My eyes widen with horror, and I scramble backwards along the bench seat until my back is firmly against the wall. I didn’t like Elio—I found him pompous and untrustworthy—but I didn’t want him dead.

The pirate steps back from Elio’s limp body and wipes his bloody hands on his pants. He turns to me, and winks. “That’s bloody better, don’t you think?”

My ears are ringing. I’m going to die.

“Who—who are you?” I demand.

The pirate raises his eyebrows at me. “Sorry, darling. Can’t hear you, and I’m shit at reading lips.”