Page 55

A distant thrum of thunder sings across the ocean’s surface.

Grayson told his men to release the new anchor an hour ago to ensure we don’t venture too closely to the storm just south of us. It’s one more stop that we shouldn’t take knowing the threat that looms behind us.

After the hit the Caelestia took off the shores of Emerald Cove, we have no choice. Not when the foremast is on the brink of collapsing on top of us and we need the sails in order to navigate safely through Dead Man’s Passage.

Wind breezes through the strands of my hair as I watch lightning dance along the distant sky. A flash of bright white light singes my memory as I think back to the beach when Grayson’s strong arms wrapped tightly around me as he pushed me out of the way of death’s grip.

After last night and everything we shared, that memory no longer haunts me the way it did before.

Grayson makes me feel . . . safe . In a way I’ve never had the opportunity to know. Not when so much has been taken from me. And certainly not when there’s still unanswered questions about my past.

There was a time when I would have sacrificed anything to go back.

To see my father again so I might ask him why he did what he did.

To tell my mother that for all the love she had for me, it still wasn’t enough after she stopped fighting for us.

But those empty wishes no longer sting the way they used to.

These days, I find myself looking more toward the future and . . . all that is right in front of me.

“Careful!” I hear Collin yell from above me.

He’s on the rigging, just below the boom of the foremast sail, instructing three other men on where to hammer the wooden reinforcements. A piece of wood falls to the main deck and nearly hits another crew member.

I let loose the breath I was holding when it lands about a foot away from the man. Startled, he hops to the side then looks up. “You almost took off my head you bastards!” He shakes a fist at them and I swallow the chuckle threatening to burst past my lips.

Men are so dramatic. The worst he would have gotten is a bruise, but I can’t blame him for yelling. It might not have killed him, but it certainly would have hurt.

“Do you need any help?” I call up to Collin.

Shading his eyes from the sun with his hand, he peers down, scanning the deck until he finds me. “We’re almost finished up here, Miss Rowenya. There’s no reason for you to bother climbing the rig.”

My shoulders slump a little in disappointment. The only person who lets me help them is Tommy, and that’s only when he has a pile of potatoes to peel.

“Suit yourself!” I tell Collin before walking back to the ship’s railing.

Grayson is meeting with his helmsman to review the various paths we might take through Dead Man’s Passage. He invited me to join, but my nerves have started to ignite about the journey ahead, so I opted to leave them alone to discuss the routes while I get some fresh air.

One look from Grayson told me he knew exactly what I was feeling. Which makes me wonder if he’s feeling the same.

A shadow blankets the warmth of the sun and I look to my right to find Zaos.

“I thought you were in the meeting with Grayson and his helmsman.”

There’s a creak from his black leather vest as his chest expands widely on a deep inhale. “I was.”

Leaning forward, I look past him to Grayson’s quarters. The door remains shut and the rays of the sun beam off the red washed windows, making it impossible to see inside.

“Have they finished discussing the routes?”

Zaos looks down at me with his dark eyes and I find my hand instinctively moving to the pommel of my dagger.

He huffs. “Relax, Rowenya. If I had plans to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

I roll my eyes, but let my hand relax beside my hip. “It doesn’t exactly sound like you prefer me alive.”

His hands find the railing as he gazes out over the churning water. Even with the storm far away, the ocean’s surface is angry.

“My Captain has taken an interest in you, for reasons I’m not completely convinced are worthy of his attention.

But he’s given every man on this ship an order to protect you with our lives.

” Those ebony eyes meet mine again, but this time, his face softens.

Just a little. “When our Captain commands us, we follow his command. Without hesitation.”

Zaos’s words wash over me like a bucket of ice water thrown across my bare skin. Grayson told his men to protect me with their lives?

My initial thought is that it makes sense.

I am the only person on this ship capable of translating the old language.

We have no idea what we will find in the belly of the Solise Mountains.

He might require my knowledge if we discover another artifact.

Which means my life is, in fact, one of the most important upon this ship.

But after last night . . .

And the way Zaos is eyeing me right now . . .

Something tells me that Grayson gave that order to his men for a completely different reason.

“Well, at least I won’t have to clean your blood from my daggers then.” I smirk.

A ghost of a smile plays at the corners of his lips, but it’s gone the moment another thunderous boom echoes from the distance.

“The last time he had to navigate through the stone isles, he barely made it out with his life. Yet, here we are, waiting for our chance to pass through them again.” Zaos’s tone is grim as a shadow from the cloud-blocked sun sweeps across his face.

I look to the violent storm raining down over Dead Man’s Passage. For a moment I think I can see the jagged rocks breaking through the ocean’s surface, but as soon as I blink, they’re gone.

“Most wouldn’t dare venture toward certain death,” I reason, shaking my head. “But what waits for us on the other side . . .”

Zaos turns toward me, his face more serious than normal. “And what is it, Rowenya Stone, that awaits you on the other side?”

While we were staying at Emerald Cove, Grayson informed his men of the new deal we’d struck: in exchange for my knowledge of the old language, I would get to keep a larger cut of the treasure to ensure my entire crew gets to walk free from Red Beard’s hold on us.

Zaos knows this. But the way he looks at me tells me he wants to hear it for himself.

I don’t break eye contact. “Finding Thaeto’s treasure would mean I have the chance to give my crew a life they deserve. It’s a way for me to . . . finally forgive myself for rescuing them from the evil of this world only to exchange their rusted shackles for a brand new pair.”

A crease forms between his dark brows. “And will you? Give them a chance at a life they deserve?”

Lightning flashes across the moody sky as that all-too-familiar feeling of guilt snakes through my body, ready to seize my mind. Holding me captive to the things I’ve done. The choices I’ve made.

“I will.” I nod.

Fear strikes my heart as Zaos leans down, leveling his gaze with mine. “For the sake of my captain, I hope you stay true to your word.”

Then he turns around and walks away, leaving me in the wake of his unspoken promise of violence.

Candlelight casts long shadows across the dining table in Grayson’s quarters later that evening.

As my mouth waters from the savory aromas filling the space, I pour myself a glass of port wine and take a sip.

The smooth berry and cinnamon flavors slide down my throat, easing just a little of the knot that’s formed in my stomach since Zaos left me on the main deck to consider the consequences of misusing my cut of the treasure.

If that’s even what he was suggesting. Why he’d think that I’d run off with the cut all for myself, abandoning my crew, is shocking and revolting in equal measure.

As though I’d be capable of such a vile betrayal.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Grayson says from across the table. Amber liquid sloshes against the sides of his glass tumbler when he sits back in his seat.

A new sensation takes over the coiling tightness in my stomach. One of swarming butterflies as I take him in. He’s wearing a black tunic and black leather pants that match the onyx shade of his hair and brows, making his bright blue eyes pop.

The truth tingles on the tip of my tongue, but I hesitate to say anything. Zaos is his quartermaster. The closest person to him.

Taking a deep breath in, I consider what it would mean to keep the truth hidden after everything that’s transpired between us and decide I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. Not when I was angry at him for trying to protect me from my past.

No more half-truths. No more lies.

“Zaos threatened to kill me if I don’t uphold my promise to give my crew a share of the treasure,” I state plainly.

Grayson’s eyebrows raise. “He said those words exactly?”

I tilt my head back and forth, thinking back to what Zaos had said. “Not exactly. But the threat was apparent, and he made sure to tell me that he doesn’t like me, despite your judgment.”

Grayson sets his glass down, leans back in his chair, and steeples his fingers. “You told him how you gained your crew?” he asks, his voice low.

“Not exactly,” I say again and Grayson smirks.

“You wouldn’t need to. Zaos has always been observant. To an annoying degree, at times.”

I take another swig of wine. “That kind of quality makes him a great spy.”

Grayson nods once, the candle flames reflecting in his eyes. “Yes, it does.”

“I’m assuming that’s how you knew I was planning on intercepting Blythe.”

Grayson scoots his chair back—its legs yelping against the wooden floor below—and rises. Striding toward the middle of the long dining table, he stops at the large serving plate filled with a honey-glazed ham, and picks up the long knife and carving fork.

I swallow as I watch his large hands wrap around the handles. Heat grows in my belly and I clamp my thighs together when my mind wanders to memories of last night and the pleasure he wrung from my body with those hands.