Page 30

Sapphire

As always, Riven and I sleep in shifts during the day in preparation to set off after sunset, when the stars first appear in the sky.

I’m on the hull keeping watch when fire dances across the beach, and Circe materializes by the pier.

She’s carrying something that looks like a basket of supplies.

“I’m happy to converse privately,” she says with a smile. “However, you can fetch your husband if you please.”

I huff, since even though I’m happy to leave Riven sleeping in the cabin, we’re about to head out on a dangerous mission, and keeping him informed about what’s happening is the best way for us to survive the Cosmic Tides.

“One minute,” I call to Circe, and then I spin around, hurrying to the cabin to get him.

He’s up and alert the second the door opens.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, and he’s on his feet in one swift moment, reaching for his sword on the nightstand.

“She’s back,” I tell him. “Circe. She’s on the pier, with a basket.”

He nods and pops some of that herb into his mouth—moly—grimacing at the taste.

Neither of us has mentioned last night’s showdown in front of Circe, and I’m glad of it. The last thing I need is more of him trying to tempt me to death.

Well, trying to tempt me to his death, since he’s the one determined to seduce a vampire into tasting his blood.

“Let’s find out what she wants,” he says, one hand on the hilt of his sword as he leads us out of the cabin and onto the bow of the ship.

Circe’s patiently waiting at the end of the pier, her purple gown rippling in the breeze as she studies our ghost ship with obvious disdain. Three pigs accompany her.

“I thought you might need more supplies for your journey,” she says, placing the basket onto the ground at her feet.

“That’s... unexpectedly generous of you,” I say carefully.

“Consider it a wedding present,” she says, and Riven makes his way onto the pier, frost spreading beneath his feet with each step.

“What do you want in return?” he asks her, ignoring her goading and getting straight to business.

“I want you to succeed in your mission,” she says, and her voice drops lower, taking on an edge of knowing that makes my magic stir. “The Blood Coven grows stronger by the day, and their alliance with the Night Court...” She shakes her head. “Poor Ambrogio thinks gaining more power will win back Selene’s heart.”

My breath catches. “You know about Ambrogio?”

“I know many things.” Flames dance along her fingertips, and she smiles as she continues. “Including what a fool’s errand it is to chase the affections of a woman still devoted to her sleeping lover.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, joining Riven on the pier.

“My aunt Selene.” She keeps her eyes on me, waiting for my reaction. “The primordial goddess of the moon, who’s spent centuries pining for Endymion while he’s trapped in his eternal slumber—which I must say, is an appealing state for a man. Almost as effective as turning them into livestock. However, Selene and Endymion are clearly enjoying themselves in his dreams, since they have fifty daughters—one of them being your star goddess, Celeste.”

I nod slowly, since Celeste mentioned this when we talked on the Midnight Star. Her mother—Selene—was in love with Ambrogio. But after he was turned into a vampire, she feared him so much that she had him banished to the Underworld.

“Selene’s your aunt?” I ask as I piece the rest together. “Which means Celeste’s your cousin?”

“Indeed. Which makes you my…” she trails off, thinking. “Well, let’s just consider it a sort of adopted family.

Riven looks as skeptical as ever. “Is that why you’re helping us?” he asks her. “Family loyalty?”

“I simply recognize the importance of maintaining certain balances. The star touched were chosen for a reason,” she says, her gaze fixing on me. “Though I must say, you’re proving far more interesting than I anticipated.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wind stirs around me, responding to my unease.

“It means you need to take these supplies and be on your way,” she says, and from the way she motions to the pigs along with the basket, it’s clear they’re part of the deal.

“We’ll take them,” I say before Riven can object.

He doesn’t argue. He just watches me with those unreadable silver eyes of his, frost crackling at his fingertips.

“A wise choice,” Circe says with a knowing smile. “Far better to feed from my transformed sailors than to be tempted by... alternatives.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks, but I refuse to look at Riven. Instead, I study the distant horizon, where that massive fortress I’ve been glimpsing through the clouds stands dark and forbidding against the sky.

“What is that place?” I ask Circe, partly to change the subject away from Riven’s blood, and partly because its presence has been nagging at me since we arrived. “That fortress in the distance?”

“Ah.” Her expression shifts, becoming more serious. “That’s Blaze Academy.”

Riven glances at it, studying it, then turns back to Circe.

“An academy for what?” he asks her, his voice carefully neutral.

“For witches, of course. I help guard its waters. Ensure that no one gets in—or out—who isn’t meant to,” she explains, turning to me. “You, Star Navigator, were able to sail these waters safely because of your magic. All others... let’s just say they’re not as lucky.”

“What happens to them?” I ask, waves lapping harder against the pier as my unease grows.

“Over the centuries, I’ve had my share of bodies wash up on shore.” She says it casually, as if discussing the weather. “Witches who tried to leave the academy and failed. Although, failed might be too gentle a word. Because those who try to leave Blaze Academy don’t just drown. The sea makes sure of it.”

A heavy silence falls over us. Even the pigs huddle closer together, as if sensing the sharp shift in the air.

“What kind of academy needs that level of security?” Riven asks.

“The kind that’s better left alone,” Circe replies smoothly. “Now, you two should be on your way. The stars are waiting.”

I glance at the academy’s tower one last time, but clouds have already swept in to obscure it. Still, I can feel its presence—a weight of ancient magic pressing against my senses.

“Come on,” Riven says to me, the quiet command in his voice snapping me back to focus. “And Circe… your generosity is appreciated.”

“Don’t mention it,” she says, cocking her head and giving us a mischievous smile. “Truly. After all, I don’t want word getting around that I’ve turned considerate.”

I can’t help it—I laugh.

Because despite the whole “transforming men into pigs” thing, Circe isn’t all that bad.

“Oh, and Sapphire?” she says.

“Yeah?”

“When you return to Aeaea for a more relaxing family visit, bring me stories more interesting than heartbreak and betrayal.”

Then she’s gone in a burst of flames, leaving the smell of smoke, a pile of scorched boards, the basket of supplies, and three confused pigs in her wake.