Page 3 of A Storm in Every Heart (Enchanted Legacies #2)

I shift between my feet, my mind spinning.

I’m not allowed to go wandering through the ports on my own…

but then again, that was Papa’s rule, and he’s no longer here to enforce it.

Making a split-second decision, I dash after my cousin, nearly tripping over my long skirt and the end of the dock in my haste to follow.

Looking pleased with himself, Daemon slows to half speed so I can walk alongside him without having to run, and leads the way down the busy street toward the sounds of fighting.

We pass by the shabby carriage, which is parked beside a low stone wall.

The driver is sitting on the wall smoking a pipe, and he glares at us as we pass.

“What did you say to the carriage driver when you arrived?” I ask the moment we’re out of earshot.

“You saw that?” Daemon laughs as we walk past the rows of merchant stalls and mingling sailors.

“It’s a borrowed carriage. Mother lent hers to a friend just before we heard about Uncle Gabriel, so we hired this one in a hurry.

The driver is a lecherous ass who wouldn’t stop staring at my mother.

I told him to keep his eyes to himself or I’d cut them out of his head. ”

“But you said you don’t know how to fight.”

He shrugs. “It can’t be that hard.”

I look sideways at my cousin. “How old are you, anyway?”

“Eleven.”

My eyebrows raise. “Do you often threaten men twice your size and ten times your age?”

He grins in a self-satisfied way. “Only when they deserve it.”

I haven’t spent a lot of time with other children, so I can’t be sure, but I’d guess my cousin is unusual. I can’t tell if he’s messing with me. “Did your father really die, or were you just saying that?”

He nods. “Last year.”

I squeeze the key in my hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not.”

I can’t imagine what his father could have done for Daemon not to miss him, and I’m not sure I want to know. Instead, I ask: “Does that mean you live alone with your mother?”

Daemon shoves a grown Fae male out of the way before the male steps on my dress.

Then he answers as if there were no interruption.

“Yeah, just me and her. And the servants, of course.” He raises an eyebrow.

“And now, you too, I suppose. I’ve always wanted siblings.

I pictured brothers, but a sister would be fine too, I guess. ”

“I’m not your sister.”

“May as well be, right?”

I shake my head as Daemon and I make our way to the end of the narrow cobblestone street.

The street buzzes with excitement, and the shouts of men watching the fight echo over the harbor, growing louder and more fervent with each step we take.

We stop at the edge of the throng of onlookers, craning our necks and straining on tiptoe to glimpse the fight beyond the wall of towering men.

Daemon turns in a circle before his gaze catches on the barnacle-covered stone wall that runs the length of the harbor, holding back the ocean waves from splashing onto the street.

He bounds across the street in three steps, and hoists himself up, then extends a hand to pull me after him.

I pause for only a second before shoving the brass key into my pocket and taking Daemon’s hand.

From atop the wall, we have a clear view of the boxing match taking place in the center of the enthusiastic crowd.

The fight that we saw from the dock has ended, and two other men are preparing to enter the ring.

From their cheap clothing and overlong hair, I assume they’re deckhands.

The taller of the two is Fae, but the other has rounded ears.

“Is that man human?” Daemon asks incredulously. “That’s absurd. He’s going to get himself killed! I thought you said it was just for sport.”

Before I can answer, another voice sounds behind us. “I’d take that bet.”

I crane my neck to see who’s talking and nearly lose my balance. Daemon whips out a hand to steady me before I fall backwards into the harbor, and makes no comment about it as he turns both of us toward the voice.

My gaze lands on another boy, leaning against the wall to our right. He appears to be about Daemon’s age with curly midnight-black hair, sharp cheekbones despite his youth, and warm golden-brown skin. He’s wearing a forest-green cloak with the hood pulled up, despite the warm weather.

“What was that?” Daemon asks cheerfully.

The boy pushes off the wall and turns to face us. “I said I’d take that bet. Fifty gold says the human will win.”

Daemon looks the boy over, then glances back at the fighters. He shrugs. “Done.”

My mouth falls open in surprise. “Do you have that much?”

Both Daemon and the boy ignore my question, neither of them seeming the slightest bit bothered by the enormous sum of money.

I can’t even comprehend where an eleven-year-old would get fifty gold until I remember that Daemon’s father was a baron.

If his father recently died, then my cousin has already inherited more money and land than I’ve seen in my life.

That still doesn’t explain where the strange cloaked boy got so much gold.

Daemon waits for the boy to climb up the wall beside us, then reaches out to shake his hand. “I’m Daemon Ashwater, and this is my sister, Odessa.”

“I’m Kastian,” the other boy introduces himself.

I scoff in disbelief. “Sure you are.”

The boy leans around Daemon to look at me, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“The crown prince of Hydratta is named Kastian. It’s written on the side of that ship over there.” I jerk my thumb over my shoulder. “If you’re going to lie about your name, at least make it convincing.”

The boy tilts his head up, looking past me toward the row of ships. Sure enough, the vessels flying the king’s green-and-white flag are all docked alongside the merchant ships, and the ship nearest to us reads: HMS Kastian Stormbreaker .

Daemon laughs. “She’s got you there, mate.”

The boy shoots me a reproachful look, his cheeks flushing amber.

Before he can say anything else, the surrounding crowd erupts as the Fae soldier launches himself toward his human opponent.

For a moment, it seems as if the boy claiming to be called Kastian is going to lose his money in less than ten seconds.

Then, the human steps out of the way far faster than should be possible.

The Fae man can’t stop his momentum, and with no one in the way, he dives straight into the cobblestone ground. Beside me, Daemon winces.

The Fae man, looking dazed, struggles to his feet. He charges the human again, and once again the man waits until the last second before dodging out of the way. This time, the Fae plows into the crowd, causing an eruption of shouts and swearing.

I grin for the first time in weeks as I look over at Daemon. “I think you’re about to lose your bet.”

His eyes narrowing, Daemon turns to the boy in the cloak. “How did you know?”

The boy shrugs, a smug smile on his face. “I’ve seen him fight before.”

“But how?” I ask, “He’s human. There’s no way he should be able to move that fast.”

“He looks human,” the boy corrects.

I glance back at the fight just in time to witness the so-called human spring forward, his muscles tensing as he launches himself at the Fae man.

With a feral intensity, he pummels his face with relentless fists, each strike landing with a sickening thud.

Blood spurts in vivid arcs, splattering the pavement in crimson droplets.

As he draws his fist back, I can almost see a ripple across his otherwise ordinary human face.

“He’s a doppler,” I say on an exhale, finally understanding. “A shapeshifter.”

Daemon cocks his head, looking more curious than annoyed by the deception. “Dopplers don’t have any increased strength or speed, though. Just that of the average Fae.”

“Yeah, but they have the element of surprise.” The other boy grins smugly. “There’s an enormous advantage in being underestimated.”

A ripple of whispers passes through the crowd. The fighting abruptly ends as people scatter left and right.

“What—” I begin, but break off as the answer to my question becomes clear.

Six armed soldiers dressed in green military jackets are pushing their way through the crowd. They look at every face as if searching for someone.

“Damn,” the boy in the green cloak swears and leaps down from the wall. “Got to go.”

“Where are you going?” Daemon demands. “You won the bet. I won’t have anyone thinking I don’t pay my debts.”

The boy grins up at us from the ground. “You’ll have to owe me one.”

Daemon’s brow furrows. “But we’re from Vernallis. We’ll be leaving soon.”

The boy shrugs as if to say, “It is what it is,” and takes a step backward into the crowd.

“Wait!” I yell before I can stop myself.

The boy pauses, looking over his shoulder at me. I reach into my pocket and grab the brass key, and toss it at the boy. As if on instinct, he raises a hand into the air and catches it. His face twists in bewilderment.

“To cover the debt,” I explain. “I don’t like leaving things unfinished either.”

The boy’s black eyes meet mine, but then the crowd shifts, swallowing him up as the soldiers keep shoving people out of their way.

I stare at the place where the boy disappeared, a sense of satisfaction washing over me.

We might never see that boy again, but my father promised the key leads to treasure…

and it’s not as if it’ll do me much good now that I’m leaving Hydratta.

Daemon turns to me, looking baffled. “What the hell was that about?”

I press my lips together, looking from the king’s soldiers to where the boy disappeared. Finally, I glance at the HMS Kastian Stormbreaker bobbing in the harbor. “I think that might have been someone who prefers to be underestimated.”