Page 67 of The Ever King

A row of small skiffs and even longboats were tethered to narrow docks. I brushed my fingers over the stempost of one longboat, tracing the fangs of the great sea serpent, and longed for home.

Erik stopped in front of a different skiff, but watched as I practically caressed the serpent. He altered course and stepped into the longboat. “I assume you can row?”

“I can row.”

I settled beside the king on a bench, the other three took places at our backs. I carved the heavy oar into the clear water of the lagoon, and nearly sobbed at the familiar burn in my shoulders.

“You are more adept with that oar than I thought,” Erik said with a grunt and deep dig of his own.

“I fished with my father often.” Long days spent under the sun, atop the water, with uncles, or friends, or just my daj and me, were some of my most cherished memories. The burn of tears sprang behind my eyes. “Does it bother you when I remind you whose blood runs in my veins, Bloodsinger?”

He shook his head. “I’d never forget.”

Willows and overreaching branches of towering trees shaded the passage. Beneath the water were black stones that glistened with crystal chips. We crossed the lagoon until the boat banked near stacked boulders with scars of white minerals crisscrossing over the surface.

The king held out a hand and waited for me to take it while the others secured the longboat. Trees were sparse, but sparkling streams spilled over the rocks in gentle falls, and pale waterfowl nested over along the banks, chirping and cooing as we approached.

There was a beauty here that I’d never seen back home. Water was like glass or emeralds. Foliage seemed to glisten in the sunlight, and the songs of creatures were strangely melodic. When the magic of the sea folk lived in the voice, I supposed it was no wonder even the creatures called beautifully.

“This way.” Erik tugged me up a muddy slope toward a cavern between two white stones.

I tried to keep my hold on his hand loose and uninterested, but the slick surfaces forced me to cling to his strength to keep from slipping over the edge.

Inside the cavern the air thickened and warmed unnaturally and held a rancid scent of scorched fetid wood. I covered my nose. Erik gave me a tormented look, as though he hated this place more than anyone.

Dammit. What if this was where he planned to end me? Breaths came sharp and angry, I tugged back against him. I thought I could face the Otherworld with bravery, with my head high, now betrayal lanced through me, sharp and swift.

Erik pulled me closer as we walked; his lips brushed my ear. “Livia Ferus, blood of warriors, temptation of the Ever King, you have nothing to fear from me in here. I am the one who fears this place.”

I blew out a quivering breath. How he knew the anguish of my thoughts, I didn’t know, but he gave me a subtle dip of his chin and rounded a bend in the cave. I let out a small gasp. White stone was blackened and reeked of refuse, much the same as the scorched soil on Skondell.

The spread marred the crystal chips in the stone and devoured the beauty of it. Fury magic in my veins ached, yearning to heal the land, to hear its secrets. A heaviness lived here, like watching a slow death and being unable to look away.

“What is this?” I whispered.

Erik’s jaw set. “We call it the darkening.”

“This is what scorched that isle?”

With a nod, Erik released my hand. “It has been slowly eating away at the lands and destroying our resources. I’ve done all I can to find answers on how to stop it.”

I hovered my hand over a stone. “How long has it been spreading?”

“It began a few turns ago.”

My heart dropped to my stomach. I closed my eyes. “Do you think . . . the barriers caused it?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps destroying the natural connection between our worlds played a part. Perhaps it is something else.” His voice hardened. “What I know is you pulled it away. I’ve seen the power that comes from the mantle of the king, and it would have the ability to amplify healing this land. But here you are, with the mark of the king, and you healed the soil in Skondell. It cannot be coincidence.”

Bleeding hells, no.

Erik took my arm with the rune mark. His thumb rubbed over my sleeve where he knew the scar was dug into my skin.

“Erik,” I whispered. “I don’t know how to do this, I’ve never seen—”

“You did it already.”

It was strange to hear a touch of pleading in the Ever King’s tone. It shattered my heart. Turns he’d been trapped here, unable to protect his people, desperate to reach the realms of his enemies, desperate to take back what was his. He wanted the talisman he called his mantle, not simply to take revenge on my father, but because he thought it would give him the full strength to save his damn world.