Page 29 of Anwen of Primewood (The Eldentimber #2)

I push my foot through the wet sand. Within minutes, I find something. I drop to my knees and unearth a triangular shelled creature. Excited, I hold it up. “Is this one?”

Galinor crouches next to me. “It looks like it.”

Encouraged, we begin to dig with our hands. It isn’t long before we have more clams than we can eat.

I watch, fascinated, as Galinor arranges the shellfish over a hot rock near the fire’s flames. “How do you know how to do all this?”

Once he’s satisfied with the clam’s placement, he sits next to me, stretching his legs out. “I’m second-born. If Glendon goes to war, I will be expected to lead our army. As such, Father believed I needed to know how to feed and care for them as well. I can cook a few things and tend most wounds.”

I bump his shoulder. “That’s how you knew how to take care of the arrow.”

Galinor nods, and then the smile leaves his face. “With all the training I’ve done, the tournament should have been simple.”

“I heard you did well in the archery competition,” I remind him. “And you were poisoned before the joust and hand-to-hand. Lionel wouldn’t have stooped that low if he didn’t believe you would best him.”

“I feel as if the failure defines me,” he says. “I was tested, and I measured short.”

“You don’t believe that. You can’t.”

“You didn’t see the look on Pippa’s face every time I failed, every time I let her down.”

Pippa again.

I turn his face toward mine. “She’s happy now, isn’t she? Isn’t that what matters? You made that happen.” I gather my courage. “And you haven’t let me down—not even once. I’ve asked so much from you. For whatever it matters, you coming has meant everything to me.”

He trails his fingers over my cheek, and I shiver.

“You’re making it a little too pleasant to be stranded here on this island,” he teases, his voice soft. “I’m not sure I want them to find us tomorrow.”

My spirits soar at his words. I scoot closer to him and lay my head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around my back, and together we watch the fire flicker.

A ship appears on the horizon, and my gown is still damp. There’s no way I am going to let anyone catch me in Galinor’s tunic, so I wear the wet dress anyway.

Also, I can’t bear the sight of Galinor shirtless in the bright, morning sun any longer.

Galinor puts out the fire, and then we wait for the ship, standing side by side.

Dristan jumps from the vessel before it even docks.

His limp has become much less pronounced in the last month, and I’m happy to see him moving so well.

He races towards us and gives me a questioning look when he notices my wet gown.

“It’s nothing,” I assure him.

“You’re all right?” he asks me, and then he turns to Galinor. “My apologies. I’ve spoken with Jacques, and he’s terribly sorry.”

I cringe. Judging from the look on Dristan’s face, I’m sure the captain is very sorry indeed.

“It’s not his fault,” Galinor answers. “He warned us several times.”

Dristan turns back to me. “Did you find the Altiers?”

I nod, excited. “They’re beautiful, and their coats are soft like a rabbit’s.”

Dristan’s eyebrows shoot up. “They let you touch them?”

Galinor smirks. “I told you they would.”

“That’s amazing, Anwen.” Dristan’s eyes light. “I might have to request a visit from you when the foals are born in the spring.”

I nod, happy the prince looks so much better now that he’s home. Triblue suits him.

We follow Dristan to the dock. I know very little about boats, but even I can tell this is not Jacques’ ship. The body is sleek, and a carved sea serpent graces the prow. It looks nothing like the tentacled beast I remember; this one is dragon-like and beautiful.

Dristan notices me admiring the ship and turns back. “She’s mine. Well, one of mine.” He grins. “Stunning, isn’t she?”

I nod in agreement as I walk the gangplank.

“I would have brought you myself yesterday,” he says, “but Mother would have been furious if I’d run off to the sea without visiting with her first.” He laughs and takes his place by the wheel.

Dristan calls out instructions to his crew, and we soon race toward the mainland. Near the front of the ship, Galinor and I stand. Together we watch for whales. I’m disappointed we still haven’t seen one.

“Dolphins,” Dristan calls out as several of the gray creatures break the water’s surface close by.

The dolphins follow us, screeching and calling as they dive in and out of the waves. Their skin glistens in the sunlight, and I would love to touch one. I’m disappointed when they finally swim away.

I breathe in the sea air, wishing we could stay out all day. The closer we get to Saltwreath, the nearer I feel I am to Dimitri. As much as I need the changeling stone back, he’s the last person I want to see .

We reach the pier, and many men call out to Dristan, welcoming him back. Galinor and I wait for him, but as popular as he is, we wait awhile.

I stroll about, looking at both the large ships and the small fishing boats. Several are unloading cargo. I recognize merchants waiting for their goods. Their eyes are sharp as they calculate numbers in their heads.

For one fleeting moment, I wonder if Father is here. He can’t be, though. It’s during the day. He must be hidden away somewhere.

I rub my stomach, which once again churns when I think about what I’ve done.

“Anwen,” Dristan calls, “Are you ready?”

He and Galinor stand near the carriage, waiting for me.

I take a step toward them but am stopped by an incredulous voice behind me. “Anwen?”

Filled with instant dread, I turn. There, in front of me, stands Dimitri—with the changeling stone around his neck.