Page 28

Nox

I sleep better than I have in months—years—and wake up sandwiched between Bastian and Siobhan as if, even in sleep, they fear I’m going to panic and bolt the first chance I get. I wish they were wrong. I’ve never felt more conflicted. I convinced myself to stop fighting my attraction and feelings for them under the assumption that we’d be dead long before a broken heart became a real risk.

Except waking up listening to their steady breathing has true fear roiling inside me. I’m not prepared to lose either of them. I wasn’t before, but now that I know how Siobhan tastes, have been reminded how sweetly Bastian comes? Now that I’ve had a night of feeling cared for, I crave it with an intensity that scares me.

I slip from the bed like a thief in the night, easing from under Siobhan’s arm and sliding past the leg Bastian tossed over my hip. Neither of them stirs as I dress in hurried, awkward movements. I’m not doing anything wrong , but the need to leave the cabin before either of them wakes up is nearly overwhelming. I take a moment to summon my magic to remove the salt from Siobhan’s and Bastian’s clothing.

I take my first full breath of the morning as I step into the faint sunlight. I should have been out on deck the whole time, ensuring my people were as safe as they can be in this situation. The vote yesterday wasn’t only putting their faith in me as captain, but in the mission as a whole. And yet…I can’t regret a single moment.

Eyal and Poet stand at the helm, expressions serious. I walk over to stand next to them, doing my best to ignore the self-conscious need to shuffle my feet as if I’ve done something wrong.

“No sign of them,” Eyal murmurs. “It won’t last.”

“It won’t,” I confirm. “If Morrigan has reported to the Council, then every crimson sail is more of a threat than normal. If they’re smart, they’ll start a coordinated sweep of this area.”

“A tall order.” Eyal stares at the horizon as if there are answers there. “Even with Morrigan as the leader, there are plenty of captains who aren’t interested in playing nice with a group. There are so many old grudges that they’d need a strategist just to coordinate a plan that doesn’t devolve into infighting.”

“Hope springs eternal.”

“None of that will matter if we flounder.” Poet sighs. “Everyone is exhausted. We have perhaps another day or two of operating at full capacity before we need to allow the air-users to rest.”

Because magical burnout is a real threat, especially when we’ve been running so hard with no rest. Or not nearly enough rest. Guilt wraps its claws around my throat. I should have already been taking steps to ensure my crew were protected. “No one has gone down yet.”

Despite it being a statement, Poet nods. “Right. Not yet.”

Eyal shifts. “If we sail fully east to Drash and then cut south from there, we can hop islands—”

“No.” I shake my head. “We can’t afford to waste the weeks that route would cost us. Our best chance to be successful means reaching Lyari before Morrigan. If we’re favoring stealth at the cost of speed, eventually she’ll stop mindlessly pursuing and start wondering where we’re headed. If she gets there first, we’re all but doomed to fail.” Siobhan said something about the ability to make a request when a person summons the C?n Annwn. I don’t know if it’s true, but if it is, the last thing we need is Morrigan being the one to get to the horn.

“Nox.” Eyal looks away. “Poet and I have been talking. We don’t see a route through this where we don’t end up dead.”

I honestly don’t, either, but I’m the captain, and the captain isn’t allowed to doubt where others can see. The vote last night meant everything to me, but Eyal has a point now and Poet did then, too. “The Audacity isn’t going to Lyari.” I make the decision as I speak the words. “Get us to Yoth and then take the crew through the portal there. You all should be safe enough until this is over.”

Yoth is an island about two days’ normal sail from Lyari. It’s hot and humid most days, with many rivers despite its small size and a thick jungle that stretches right up to its shores. Over the generations, Lyari has tried to conquer the foliage to create a destination for the rich and bored to vacation at, but developers have been driven back each time. Not violently, but by strange coincidences that lead most people to believe the island is either cursed or blessed, depending on what your goals are.

“Yoth.” Poet narrows her eyes. “It’s not a bad idea.”

“We voted to support you and you’re sending us away.”

“I’m doing my best to make sure you all live .” Yoth is a good choice. Most of the crew has spent time there over the years. Hedd had a thing with a local for a few years, which brought us south again and again. It gave the crew plenty of time to get familiar with the area. “Or, if you don’t take the portal, then spend a couple weeks in the village there. They’ll be happy to have our people, and it’s as protected as anywhere in Threshold.”

Eyal’s shoulders drop. “You know I want to support you in this.”

“We both do.” Poet finally looks at me. “The current system of power doesn’t work.”

“It’s never worked.” I clasp her on the shoulder, masking my unhappiness with a bright grin. “But I think a couple weeks on Yoth is more than enough reward for everyone’s hard work.”

“Easier said than done. We still have to sail there.” Poet sighs again. “You’re asking for a week more than most of our people have.”

A normal ship takes nearly three weeks to reach Lyari from Three Sisters. The Audacity isn’t a normal ship, and that’s never been truer than since I took over and we lost the worthless assholes Hedd kept around. “That’s the only option that I can see where we don’t all die.”

“Let me talk to Orchid and see what we can come up with,” Poet says. “If we slow our speed a little, we can offer our air-users more time to recover in between shifts.”

I don’t want to agree. Obviously more recovery is better, but if we are caught by the Bone Heart , it’s very likely that the entire crew will be cut down. Making that call is one of the shitty parts of leadership. I’m good at what I do, but I’m just as tired as everyone else. I don’t have the answers. “Do it.”

She heads off, and I glance at Eyal. “I’ll be back.”

He waves me away. “I got a solid four hours’ sleep. Callen managed not to run us aground during that time, so I think it’s safe to say he did a good job.”

I make my rounds, chatting briefly with the few crew members up and about. Everyone is exhausted, but they’re putting a good face on it. It’s only once I’ve started back to the helm that I realize I’ve had an audience the whole time. I twist to find Lizzie lurking by the mast. I narrow my eyes. “Eavesdropping isn’t looked highly upon.”

“Oh, please. Save your false superiority.” She waves that away and moves toward me, her long hair swinging with each step. “You’re quite the leader. So willing to tuck your crew away in relative safety while you run off to sacrifice yourself.”

“The goal is to sacrifice no one,” I say mildly.

“And yet that’s never the outcome of these kinds of events.” She stops just out of reach. “You know, I like you better now that you’ve mostly set aside the charming-rake bullshit.”

“Darling, I am a charming rake.”

She smiles thinly. “From the scent of Bastian and Siobhan mingled with yours, I believe you.” She continues before I can decide how I feel about that . “Maeve won’t be content to hide with your crew. She’s determined to see this through.”

I’ve heard about the feats Maeve accomplished in her time seeking her stolen pelt. I’ve also heard about how she almost died in the attack that sank the Crimson Hag . “This won’t be a water battle. She’s better off staying in Yoth.”

“Undoubtedly,” Lizzie agrees easily—too easily. “But Maeve won’t listen to reason.”

I narrow my eyes. “I would think you’d be invested in keeping her out of combat.”

“I am.” She shrugs. “But she’s not a child to be tucked away while the grown-ups talk. She’ll make her own decision about this—and I’ll be there to ensure no one lays a single finger on her.”

While the selkie’s contribution might come into question, no one can argue that Lizzie is dangerous enough for both of them. Her ability to subdue large numbers of people rivals mine. If I were a better person, I’d tell them both to stay behind to keep them safe.

I’m not a better person. I want to live. More than that, I want everyone in Threshold to live a life without fear that a roving crew of C?n Annwn will cause havoc in their community. To have even a chance of us accomplishing that, I need Lizzie with us. “I’d be glad to have you.”

“I know.” This time, when she smiles, she flashes a hint of fang. “And if I’m defending Maeve’s life, she can’t get grumpy about how I choose to do it.”

I give her the look that statement deserves. We both know Maeve would rather incapacitate than kill anyone, even her worst enemy. She’s got a big heart, and though she’s a fearsome fighter in the water, she will always look for a peaceful resolution. The fact that she ended up with a vampire who enjoys seeing the light leave her enemies’ eyes will never cease to amuse me.

“Just thinking about it is getting me hungry.” Lizzie turns away. “We’ll be ready when we reach Yoth.”

I watch her walk away. Maybe it was a mistake to change the plan after yesterday’s vote, but the growing certainty inside me says otherwise. A small group is more likely to infiltrate Lyari than an entire crew, and most of the people on this ship have specialties and experience that would be difficult to utilize on dry land.

Or maybe it’s just that I don’t want to lose a single one of them.

It’s tempting to return to my cabin—to my bed with a sleeping Bastian and Siobhan in it—but there’s work to be done. I climb the stairs to the upper deck and nod to Frost and Derry, both of whom weave slightly on their feet in a way that has nothing to do with the movement of the deck beneath our feet. “I’ve got it from here. Go get some rest.”

They exchange looks. “You were in bad shape yesterday, Captain,” Frost says. Ne is a tall half giant with deep purple skin and a mohawk ne likes to wear in rainbow colors. Today, it’s pink fading through purple to blue. “We can finish the shift.”

“I know you can.” The last thing I want to do is undercut my crew’s contributions. “But I had a restful night and we’ve got a long week ahead of us. Rest while you can, because there will be little enough of it in our future.”

Frost looks like ne wants to keep arguing, but Derry nudges nem with her shoulder. “You were just complaining about starving. Let’s go eat.”

Frost mutters a little more, but eventually submits to Derry’s nudging and follows her down the stairs to the hatch that leads belowdecks.

I roll my shoulders and tug on the strands of wind surging high above us, guiding them down to fill our sails. Not too much—that way lay ruin—but just enough to increase our pace.

It’s draining—more so than normal, due to my reckless magic use in the last week—but not so much that I’m in any danger. Not for hours yet. The next shift change is in two hours. I can hold on until then.

It’s a beautiful fucking day. The clouds are low and sparse, giving plenty of space for the sun to shine through. The breeze is playful and more than willing to dance to my whim. It’s lovely.

But now, standing here without any crew or quartermaster or navigator to hold my attention, it’s all too easy to fall back into the memory of last night.

Siobhan’s taste. Bastian’s touch. The slick rhythm of three bodies moving in perfect synchronization. It felt like a promise that I’m not sure any of us can uphold. We’re sailing into near-certain death, and even if we weren’t, playing with tools of the gods is a good way to end up tormented eternally.

Or at least that’s what some of our oldest stories say.

I’ve never put much stock in those stories, but recent events have shown me the error of my ways. Maybe I should have been a historian instead of a captain. It certainly seems more useful.

“Lovely day.”

It’s a testament to how deep I am in my thoughts that I didn’t realize the old woman had climbed the steps, trailing sweet smoke behind her. I give Dia a long look. “You know, smoking will kill you.”

“So will everything else in Threshold.” She inhales deeply and then offers me a blunt of truly impressive size.

I shrug and take it. With my future numbered in days instead of decades, there’s no reason not to take a second inhale. The smoke burns my throat and sinuses, making my head light.

I pass it back. “You know, we’re more than happy to drop you at any island on our way south. Any of them would be safer than staying on this ship.”

“Undoubtedly.” Dia shrugs and exhales a smaller circle into the larger one she just created. Her control is truly inspirational. “But this fight started a very long time ago, even before Siobhan’s time. Ezra thought he could change the system from within. He didn’t talk much with Bowen about the flaws he saw, which, in hindsight, I realize was a mistake. The boy conducted himself with honor, but he didn’t question his orders until Evelyn came along.”

Calling Bowen, easily as massive as Frost if not more so, a boy seems a stretch, but who am I to tell an elder how to view someone she raised? “It’s impossible to change the system from within. We have to break it.”

“I understand that now.” She nods slowly. “I’ll be little enough help on Lyari itself, but I can assist in ensuring you don’t run into weather trouble on the way.”

Her divination being specific to weather patterns is invaluable on a ship. “Thank you.” I urge a little more air into our sails. We’re moving along at a quick clip, but I can’t help looking over my shoulder, expecting to see Morrigan lurking on the horizon.

In the hours I was…occupied…with Siobhan and Bastian, we left Three Sisters far behind. We should be seeing Broax shortly, a strange island where gravity doesn’t exist. With the proper precautions, it’s possible to explore the space, but the moment your oxygen runs out, you’re dead. The island hosts no breathable air on its own.

There are a lot of deadly islands along our planned route. There’s a reason the trade route from north to south in Threshold takes a certain path; it follows islands welcoming to humanoid folks, which means villages and towns with ports and supplies. Even with the resupply, we’ll be running lean by the time we reach Yoth, but we’ll make it without anyone going hungry.

Dia and I smoke in silence for a while before she puts out her blunt and tucks the remainder in her pocket. She pats me on the shoulder. “You’ll do fine, Nox. You’re a good captain and a good person.”

There’s no reason for her words to make my chest hurt. I blame the drugs. I smile. “Thanks, Dia. You’re welcome on the Audacity as long as you’d like to be here.”