Page 29 of Sun, Moon & Shadow (Fate of Aemoria #1)
Panic seized Callan for the span of a single beat of his heart when Nova went slack against him.
With the next beat, his mind cleared and he took action, lifting her into his arms and racing back to the ship.
The crew looked on, baffled, as he boarded the vessel cradling a motionless Nova.
He called for someone to open the hatch at the stern and carried her inside the small cabin, laying her down on a lumpy straw cot made up with woven blankets.
“Food and water—now,” he ordered. The sailor rushed out, returning soon after with a hunk of bread, some smoked meat, and a flask of water.
Callan crouched beside the mattress and patted Nova gently on the cheek, repeating her name.
He poured a trickle of water into the corner of her mouth before emptying some into his hand and dabbing it over her face and neck.
Nova stirred and rose onto her elbows, blinking rapidly as she looked around the cramped cabin.
“Are you all right?” He cradled her chin in his hands and ducked his head to meet her gaze. After a few seconds, her eyes focused on him, and she nodded slowly.
“Thank the gods.” He dismissed the sailor, who then left them alone.
Callan held the bread out to her, and she ate it quickly before moving on to the slab of dried meat. Washing it all down with several gulps of water, she sighed when she was through, then threw herself down onto the mattress and flung an arm across her eyes.
“I’m such a fool,” she muttered.
“You’re not a fool.”
“You really didn’t know?” She lifted her head, her face open and innocent. “About my father?”
“I know nothing of your father. Apart from my suspicion that he’s a Silvergardian.”
“So, you suspected he wasn’t human?”
“Not at first,” he said. “But once I saw your Fae form, it was difficult to deny.”
“Well, your instincts were correct. My father was from Silvergard.” Her eyes flitted around the tight quarters, avoiding his. “My mother told me that my true father is Omen of Raven’s Isle.” Nova winced, turning her face to the wall.
Callan’s spine went rigid. Although he’d considered Nova might have ties to the Lunar Court, which could make her a target, he never imagined she was the daughter of the Shadowbringer. In the wrong hands, this knowledge could mean her death.
Callan jumped to his feet and burst through the small hatch onto the deck. Several crew members snapped their heads in his direction at the sudden noise. He rushed to untie the lines securing the ship to the dock.
“Arik, give me a hand.” He waved his friend over, and they worked together to shove off.
“We must return to Nivali immediately,” he said. Arik nodded and took his place at the base of the mast.
“Oars!” Arik bellowed his command, and the sailors dipped their wooden paddles into the sea, quickly turning the vessel around.
Callan stood beside Arik as the boat cleared the dock, and the two of them raised the sail, adjusting the angle on the mast to account for a strong wind pushing in from the west.
“I need to see to Nova. I’ll be back on deck as soon as I’m able,” Callan said.
“This wind is going to push us closer to shore. Storm’s coming out of the west.” Arik jerked his chin toward the thick gray clouds gathering off the starboard side.
“Perhaps we can skirt the storm if we cut in closer to the coast. Not too close, though,” Callan warned. “The last thing I need is Silvergard breathing down our necks.” Arik accepted his orders with a fist over his heart, and Callan slipped back through the hatch.
Nova sat hunched forward, her face buried in her hands. She lifted her head when he entered, steel eyes red-rimmed and puffy, pale cheeks damp with fresh tears. She ran her sleeve over her face and coughed once, clearing her throat.
“I’m so sorry, Callan. My father is the reason your parents are gone.” She looked down at her hands. “You must hate me.”
Callan sat on the cot beside her.
“Look at me.”
Slowly, she lifted her face to his.
“Nothing in this world could ever give me cause to hate you,” he murmured. “But I am worried for you.”
He brushed a thumb over her cheek, and she leaned into his touch.
“How is this possible?”he asked.
Nova dabbed at her eyes with the cuff of her shirt and recounted her mother’s story, shooting glances at him from the corner of her eye.
“I can’t believe this secret remained hidden for so long,” he said, mind whirring. “You must never share this information with anyone else. Omen is every bit as dangerous as your mother said he is. If the truth got out, your life could be at risk.”
“I never want anyone to know about this.” She shook her head rapidly, twisting her hands together in her lap. “I can’t bear the thought of anyone believing I’m a monster.”
“You’re no monster.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, drawing her close.
“But what if I am?” she whispered, as if she feared speaking the words aloud. “My mother said he wasn’t always as he is now. What if something happens, and I ... change?”
“You are nothing like your father,” Callan insisted, hopeful his certainty would be enough to put her at ease.Convince her that he could never fear her. He cursed Omen and his vile shadow that seemed to fall on those Callan cared for most. First his parents, and now Nova.
She tilted her face up at him, wide eyes searching his.
Gods, he wanted to kiss her.
“You should rest,” he said, releasing her.
Nova obeyed, laying her head down on the cot and closing her eyes. Not long after, her breathing slowed to a measured rhythm, and Callan knew she was asleep.He reached out and gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
Callan sat beside her for a long time, watching her forehead crease and relax in her sleep as he considered all she’d shared with him.
For a moment, he wondered if this was what Evander had been so secretive about, but he quickly dismissed the idea.
The simplest answer was the most likely: Evander desired Nova and saw Callan’s obvious attachment to her as an inconvenient obstacle.
The ship took a sudden hard turn, nearly sending him tumbling off the edge of the cot.
Nova remained asleep. Callan barged through the hatch and onto the deck.
They’d managed to avoid the storm. The swirling mass of dark gray clouds lay to the south. But the rockbound coast of Silvergard loomed little more than a stone’s throw away.
“We tried to avoid it,” Arik said, defeated. “The storm moved too fast, and we got caught up.”
Callan twisted his neck, following Arik’s stare off the stern to the swift Silvergardian ship slicing through the water and gaining on them.
It was more than double the size of his own vessel and with twice the speed.
Callan growled, glancing around at the open water surrounding them.
Outrunning the ship would be impossible.
Grabbing the spyglass, he peered through the viewfinder at the approaching vessel.
The tiered deck of the sleek, double-masted ship boasted at least thirty armed Silvergardian soldiers posted along the rails, many whose bows were already nocked with arrows.
Callan shouted a curse that was quickly carried away on the wind. He lowered the spyglass and gritted his teeth, unable to do anything but wait for the enemy ship to complete its approach.
Nova lay flat on her back on a bed of soft green moss.
Strips of clear blue sky peeked through the canopy overhead.
She stretched, gazing contentedly at the crowns of the trees, marveling at how they swayed in the breeze but never seemed to touch.
Rays of dappled sunlight fell across her face, and her eyes drifted shut as the chirping of the birds began to lull her to sleep.
All at once, the birdsong ceased, and Nova’s eyes shot open. A churning, dark mist rippled over the roots and rocks, tendrils reaching out like long, slender fingers as it approached her.
Dread settled over her like a shroud as the darkness reached the toes of her boots.
She willed herself to stand—to run—but she remained rooted to the forest floor.
The mist crawled along her body, swallowing her up, an icy sensation creeping along her skin as if she were sinking bit by bit into a frigid pond.
Her breathing grew frantic as the mist drifted to her chin and over her mouth.
It was going to suffocate her. Before it could steal her breath, the ground crumbled away beneath her, and Nova plunged into darkness.
A series of jarring thuds ripped Nova from her fitful sleep.
A moment passed before she realized someone was pounding on the hatch.
She stood unsteadily, crouching to avoid striking her head on the low plank ceiling.
Forcing the hatch open, she stepped out onto the deck, blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the sunlight.
As her vision cleared, she saw Callan with the curved blade of a stranger’s dagger held against his throat.
The entire Nivalian crew stood restrained by armed guards.
The strangers wore black leather uniforms and silver metal breastplates embossed with the symbol of a crescent moon hooked around a six-pointed star.
Black powder darkened their foreheads and the skin around their eyes.
An impressive ship bobbed directly beside theirs, the railing considerably higher than the vessel on which she stood and lined with nearly two dozen additional soldiers.
Some had arrows trained on her and her companions, the arrow heads carved from luminous white stone.
Others held swords, the steel blades slightly curved.
Nova glanced at her own sword still in its sheath on the nearby bench but thought better of it.
She was no warrior, and the strangers had every advantage.