Page 48 of The Ever King

The cook didn’t startle, even had a knife in hand. With a hooded glare, Sewell spun the blade in his hand. “Going for a swim?”

I grinned. “Sounds that way. Keep watch on her.”

Sewell eyes brightened at the sight of Livia. “Get lost, little fox?”

“I didn’t.” She lifted her chin and went to Sewell’s side. “The king is under the belief I need to be holed away.”

Sewell nodded. “Into the den, let the eels swim.”

“Well, foxes can swim too.” She leveled me in a glare, but hugged her middle, as if shielding herself. Whether from me or the racket on the upper deck, I wasn’t certain.

“Don’t leave the galley,” I said. “No matter what you hear.”

“No promises, Bloodsinger,” she whispered.

“Make it a promise.” I slammed the door before she could argue. Lucien was a sick bastard. He’d take Livia, possibly Celine too, for a prize, ravish them, brutalize them, and the thought of it added one or two clever ways to how I’d make him suffer today.

Tait turned over the helm when I returned.

“What’s the word, King?” a man who went by the simple name of Bones shouted beside one of the ember spears.

Against the distant horizon, black smoke burned against the sky. Lucien was a delay, but one I’d gladly take.

I drew a long breath into my lungs. Wind whipped through the sails. The sea thrashed around the keel. “All hands, man your bleeding posts! Take her down!”

Roars of agreement boomed on the deck. The bow dipped, a diving creature in the tides, and water crashed over the deck, swallowing us whole.

CHAPTER17

The Songbird

Agrumble of thunder rattled overhead, an unnatural rumbling summoned by Celine and the man missing an eye. I’d heard the eerie hum of their voices, then the violent skies that followed. Air fae existed back home. Hells, Stieg was one and had the power to pull sharp gusts of wind, but not like the sea fae.

Their songs brought violence.

“Sewell, do you know what’s going on?”

The cook stopped humming. He halted his scrubbing, and came to a frightening still. For a moment, I thought I might’ve offended him, but a rush of blood jolted through my veins when his eyes went wide. “Down, little fox!”

I didn’t have time to think, didn’t have time to breathe, before the thunder rumbled again, but it wasn’t alone. A boom sounded somewhere overhead. The walls shuddered. Clay ewers and tin plates tangled in chaos. Pots and knives fell off hooks and clanged against the floorboards.

I covered my head as two heavy bowls fell over my back. A bite of pain carved into my shoulder when the rim dug into my flesh before it clattered onto the floor.

“Keep her down. Keep her down,” Sewell shouted above me.

Only once his brawny arms wrapped around my shoulders did I realize he was shielding me. The man was built strong, but seemed weaker in a way, too gentle for a ship as this. It made me want to shieldhim. I tried to shirk Sewell off my body, but another blast swallowed the cooking room in deafening booms.

Wood splintered in painful cracks as the ship lurched and pitched in the rough sea. The knife fell from my grip. I tried to scramble for it but was thrown back when the ship swung in the opposite direction.

“Dark tides, me boys!” Sewell shouted at the madness.

We were tossed about like we’d been trapped in a rolling rum cask. On a third blast, Sewell flung toward the back wall, me right behind. His body bolstered my fall, and on the impact he moaned painfully.

I hurried off him, and let out a garbled scream. One of the chopping knives had lodged into his side. A stark bloom of blood stained his dingy tunic. Sweat already lined his brow as he panted, gripping the hilt of the knife.

“No!” I pitched to my knees and grabbed his wrist. “Don’t pull it.” The ship rolled. I had to brace on the wall to keep from falling into him and lodging the blade deeper. “Dammit! Sewell, breathe with me.”

He chuckled. “Shallow bite, little fox.”