Page 7

And as I watch her rise from the edge of the roof and descend off the other side, I try not to let the fear deep in my core rattle what I know to be true.

Should we fail tonight, it will be my fault.

Red Beard will see to it that my crew and I will be punished most severely.

That is, if the king doesn’t capture and kill us first.

We are close. So very close to getting the one thing we’ve always wanted.

So close, and yet, an entire kingdom lies between us and the one thing we’ve always chased after.

Warm water moves over my skin as I ease myself down from the seawall, trying hard not to make a sound. It’s a comforting sensation. One that I yearn for, one that tempts me to dive into the murky depths every night before sleep can take me.

A light mist coats my face from the humidity the rain brought in.

I let go of the seawall, falling like a stone into the water.

For a moment the salty sea burns my eyes, but with a few blinks, they adjust, and I look around to find the ocean is alive tonight.

Below me, creatures and coral are illuminated, giving off a striking glow against the darkness.

Time ticks away. There is much to be done, but I dive downward anyway.

Careful not to disturb the scene, I exhale so I can go deeper without moving my body too much.

Squishy sand hits my feet as I land on the bottom.

I sit cross-legged, taking in the beautiful ocean landscape before me.

Tall stalks of seaweed flow back and forth, the emerald green shimmering against the moonlight that trickles in from the surface.

A host of tiny crabs emerges from a beige coral head.

Their claws are up high in defense against whatever predator lingers.

One of them—the largest in the front—must have gotten into a tussle because its left claw is missing completely.

A shimmer catches my eye and I turn to the right to see a school of fish shifting in the current as they slowly make their way toward the giant coral.

Not far behind them is the very reason they seek shelter in the first place.

A shark—about ten feet long—barely moves its tail as it heads toward the school of fish.

Beautiful .

Another bubble of air leaves the edge of my mouth and the shark takes notice, shifting its path straight for me.

Rising from my seated position on the ocean’s floor, I come to my full length as the shark picks up its pace until it’s just about a foot away from me.

Extending my arm outward, I gently push on its nose, letting it know that I am not prey and that biting its razor-sharp teeth into my flesh isn’t an option for tonight.

My fingers sink into its skin just a little as I push more firmly. The shark moves to the right. An excited jolt runs through me as I run my hand along the length of its body. It is magnificent and powerful beneath my fingertips.

If I could only stay beneath the surface forever . . . away from the world . . . away from my past.

My heart thrums in my chest just as the longing for air takes a firm hold.

There is work to be done tonight.

Sand and silt swirls around me as I push off the ocean floor and watch the fractured light from the moon cascade through the water in a glimmering show. When I breach the surface and take in a large gulp of air, I tilt my head back, taking in the devastating night sky.

The heavens are showing off tonight as I watch a lone star sail across the darkness. A perfect landscape for the haunting step I am about to take toward my dream. A dream I have wished upon the stars for, and now the time has finally come to pursue it.

With one final look at the sea of stars, I send another silent prayer to the heavens and start swimming toward the Reaper .

The large fishing net hanging off the port side of the ship groans against the weight of my body as I start my ascent.

Water dribbles off my clothes, splashing loudly against the sea’s surface, so I pause, waiting for the sound to dissipate so I don’t draw any attention from the crew members on board.

Closing my eyes, I try not to focus on the burn building in my forearms from holding my weight—and that’s when I hear the yelling begin.

Amara’s and Wells’s voices slice through the night air, coming from somewhere on the docks. Their ruckus masks the sound of the water still dripping off my clothes. Just in time , I think to myself. The tendrils of our well-hatched plan are coming together seamlessly.

Making my way up the rest of the fishing net, I stop just before the edge of the deck and peek over the side to see what I’m up against.

A faint orange glow emanates from the windows at the stern of the ship. Shadows move along the glass panes and drunken roars of laughter ring out.

We were right. Blythe’s crew is a mess of ignorant bastards who couldn’t care less about watching the ship while he’s away with the only members of his crew he can actually count on.

A direct consequence for ruling his ship with an iron fist. Fear doesn’t breed loyalty.

It only breeds disdain and resentment—a lesson that Blythe clearly hasn’t learned, even after all the years he’s been captain of the Reaper .

Amara and Wells continue their verbal assaults of one another and I can see them starting to draw a crowd on the dock.

Just as I swing my leg onto the railing of the ship’s deck, I hear heavy footsteps make their way down the stairs from the quarterdeck on my left.

“Shit!” I whisper as I haul my leg back over, but miss the net with my foot and slip.

Swallowing a scream, I grab blindly at thin air.

My hand finds purchase and I grasp tightly onto one of the loops of the net.

My feet dangle just above the water. I let out a sobering breath, thankful that I caught myself before making a loud splash that would give me away to whatever lone soul is monitoring the decks.

“Blessed stars,” I grumble as I look down and find my footing to start climbing.

When I reach the edge of the railing again, I glance over to see a gruff looking fellow with a gut spilling over his trousers under his tunic. The laces of his boots are undone and I wonder how he doesn’t manage to step on them and trip, given his wavering stroll around the deck.

Careful not to make a sound, I lift myself over the edge of the railing and plant my feet firmly on the deck just as the poor bastard starts making his way to the starboard side to see what all the fuss is about on the docks.

Hand hovering just over my dagger, I look to my right, making sure no one from the stern quarters sneaks out without my knowing.

A bottle crashes against one of the walls inside and the crewmen’s laughter picks up just enough to hide the sound of my footsteps as I edge closer to the lone crew member on the deck.

His balding head shines in the moonlight as he rubs his belly with one hand and starts pouring rum into his mouth from a bottle I didn’t notice he was holding before.

Blood thrums in my ears as I take another step toward his broad back. Then another. Until I am so close I can smell the alcohol seeping from his pores.

A grumbling sound that resembles a haggard laugh bubbles from his mouth as he takes in the scene of Amara and Wells screeching at each other on the docks below.

Amara screams, “You bastard! I can’t believe you slept with that wench!

” Then she plants a resounding slap across Wells’s cheek and I know she’s going to pay for that one later.

But the smirk she wears tells me whatever consequence he has in store for her will be well worth it.

A smile tugs at my lips as I shake my head at them.

We’re going to be hearing about that smack for days.

The man in front of me strokes his beard as he continues to monitor the scene before him, giving me the perfect opportunity to take the final step I need. He’s an inch or two shorter than me, but his large form still makes it difficult for me to wrap my arm around his neck.

He goes rigid as soon as my forearm braces against his throat, suddenly completely alert, despite being drunk. I tighten my chokehold and his face goes puce.

“I really don’t want to kill you,” I grunt. “I just need you to take a nice little nap.”

He kicks one of his feet against the railing of the ship, bucking us both backward until I almost trip.

I move my momentum forward, pushing myself into his back so I don’t fall.

Tightening my hold on his neck even more, a gurgling sound seeps from his mouth.

Red veins darken against the whites of his eyes as they start to bulge from the sockets.

He’s close to passing out. I can feel the fight leaving his body and I almost let go right then as my arm slips a fraction, but I keep my hold.

“That’s it,” I whisper into his ear, giving my arm one final tug against his neck until his eyes close and spittle runs down the side of his mouth.

Heat pumps through my veins from what I’ve just done. Time is running out and Amara and Wells’s distraction won’t last much longer.

My knees start to buckle under the weight of him as I slip my arms under his and slowly set him down on the deck, careful not to let the sword at his waist bang too loudly against the wood floor.

Knocked out cold, his head lulls to the side as I lay him flat on his back, hoping the chokehold and his drunken stupor will keep him out for me to make it up the mainmast.

Another crash of a bottle hits the inner stern wall, making me jump. Glancing over my shoulder, I check to ensure no one has made their way out. My heartbeat is a thunderous thing in my chest, but thankfully no one takes notice of me through the windows.

Crouching low, I head toward the rigging of the mainmast and start my ascent toward the hoisted sails.

Every member of my crew has a part to play tonight and if I cannot destroy the sails of the Reaper in time, then we’re good as dead as soon as Blythe discovers Raven has stolen the Serpent’s Key from him.

The night’s cool air sweeps through my hair, leaving a trail of goosebumps down my back as I unsheathe one of my daggers and place the blade between my teeth. My mother’s pearl swims across my vision as the wind picks up the further I climb, whipping the small braid in my hair in every direction.

Rising to the top of the rigging, I pray to the heavens that the drunken bastards inside won’t hear me slicing through the fabric of their mainsail.

Taking the dagger into my hand, I grip the top of the rigging firmly with one hand while sliding my knife across the thick white fabric with the other.

The wind rips through the hole I create in the bundled sail and all I can think about is the roar that will tear through Blythe’s lips once he releases it upon his escape only to find the sail has been desecrated.

A wicked smile forms on my lips at the thought, which only has me tugging my knife through the fabric quicker. Extending my body outward from the rigging, I cut as far along the sail as I can manage without falling to the deck below.

With one final sweep of my dagger, my part of the plan is complete. And not a second later does the door at the stern swing open, banging against the wooden wall as three of Blythe’s crew members stagger onto the main deck.

“Fucking hells,” I mutter before holding my breath and stilling my movements. They don’t seem to notice me at first as they move toward the starboard side.

I try to calm my racing heart, but it’s no use as I watch the three men amble slowly toward their crewmate. His body still as stone on the deck where I left him.

“Aye! What happened to Edric?” the one in the middle hollers louder than necessary before shoving his boot into Edric’s side. Edric’s body jostles with the assault, but he still doesn’t awaken.

Tilting my head toward the stars, I send a silent thank you to the heavens and immediately take it back as the middleman meets my gaze the moment I look down at them.

“You! What the hells are you doing up there?” he screams at me the same moment the city’s alarm bells start ringing across the entire kingdom.

The one thing we did not account for was Blythe’s robbery being discovered so quickly.

Fucking hells.