Page 75 of Blackheart

Sitting up, I used my blanket to preserve the last bit of modesty I had. The thought of pulling a shirt over my broken arm was more intimidating than most men I had met in my life.

I rubbed my eyes, tensing as I noticed which arm I was using.

“You’re supposed to be broken,” I whispered.

Riven’s boots crunched into the ground as he surveyed the area. “Who are you talking to?”

I gave it an uncertain shake, unable to believe my eyes and unwilling to admit to speaking to a bone. There was no pain, not even when I moved it. I needed to see it beneath the wrap for myself.

“Cut this off of me.” The urgency in my voice was sharp. My arm should’ve been swollen. I shouldn’t have been able to move it with ease.

He didn’t ask questions as he whipped a blade out and sliced the wrap off in a swift motion.

Riven and I both lost breath at the sight of my arm.

Where cuts and a broken bone had been, there were curved markings like black lightning, curling at the end. It was as if ink had spilled into meandering pathways, reaching halfway down my forearm, leading straight to the King’s Mark. I stretched out my fingers, testing the full range of motion. My limb felt new.

Riven stared, tense and bewildered.

“Let me check your leg.”

His knife was ready as I lifted the blanket to expose the back of my thigh.

“Tell me what you see,” I demanded.

“The wound is gone.”

“No scar?”

He braced his hand on my hip, turning me further away, his thumb pressing into the sensitive spot on my side.

He hesitated. “I’m not sure I’d call this a scar.”

I turned back. “Why not?”

“Because it looks like the sun. Similar to the King's Mark, but outlined in black instead of gold. It has those same curves as the markings on your arm,” he said. “There’s not a chance a Lyonheart healed you last night, though.”

I covered myself with the blanket. It was warmer out than it had been in days, the snow no longer falling. With any luck, the day would go smoother than yesterday. It had to.

“Maybe it’s Zain’s magic still lingering in my body,” I guessed, rotating my arm and inspecting the markings. Perhaps I still had some leftover, and it just needed hours in mybloodstream to find the wounds. Or perhaps the King's Mark worked a miracle.

Riven didn’t seem so convinced, but we had more pressing matters to concern ourselves with than my arm no longer being broken. I feared that if I questioned it too much, the Gods would shatter me again themselves.

Kostini carried us fast and steady with Riven gripping the reins, not needing the map anymore. We cleared the woods, and for the first time since leaving Lyonscliff, we found ourselves on a real road. According to Lord Dronis’ map, there were no nearby cities. This area had been long abandoned for better farmlands, leaving nothing but a port.

Downhill of a dirt road, the sparkling ocean peeked through at last. My heart tightened at the grey hue of the sea and the embracing smell of salt.

Even better, there was a massive boat, just as Dronis had said there would be.

The black ship was docked in the distance, where small groups of people boarded while others worked. I closed my eyes, saying a prayer to the Mother that traveling to this port would be worth it.

As we rode closer, the design of the flags came into view. There were no Drakington Falcons. Instead, there was the symbol of a beast. The same symbol that had been on Singer's box. A bladebreather. Silver-scaled, with a reptilian head. Its mane was sizable, but of no comparison to its expansive, feathered wings.

At the docking area, there was a grassy patch perfect for dismounting. Riven tied Kostini to a post, bringing only our packs.

“Ready to travel the Sea of Blades?” Riven’s tan cheeks were dusted pink from the stiff wind whipping at our faces, his honey eyes twinkling in the sunlight.

I had never been on a ship, but I couldn't be more ready. We didn’t know who else would be on it, or what conditions we would have to survive, but I’d survived the Waywards. I’d survived Lyonscliff. I’d survived the Western Woods and the Sapphire camp. I would survive this ship.