Page 49 of The Sun God’s Prize (Child of Scale and Fire #3)

I do my best to keep Sheelan distracted, though she avoids me most of the time after that first night on board, perching on a cushion she’s stacked on a barrel at the aft of the ship, lost in thought most days.

She doesn’t want to talk further about what she’s left behind, and there’s nothing we can do about it, regardless, as the ship navigates the river waters in a darkly nostalgic journey that has me spending many hours looking out over the railing, watching the banks and the crocodons sunning themselves on the grassy shores.

Every once in a while, on that two-week trip, I spot a familiar-looking ship, suddenly alert and predatory, but none are the one I’m seeking, watching for, the slaver vessels sailing past unmolested despite my disgust for their trade.

There’s only one such that I wish to encounter on this journey, one person on one deck whom I long to meet again. But whatever fate has in store for Vunoshe the masterre , it’s not death at my hand.

At least, not on this journey.

My disappointment grows by the day.

Aurous is also emotionally absent, though she’s turned toward the prow, easy enough to find hanging over the railing with her nose turned north.

She’s quiet, almost silent, even at night, at mealtimes, and it’s not until I notice we’re speeding past a few other ships that seem to flounder despite their own sails that I realize why she’s so unavailable.

“You’re influencing our travel,” I say to her one afternoon when the humidity has finally evaporated and I’m chilly enough from the constant breeze to need the cloak I brought out from her mother’s tomb.

She glances at me, sparks in her amber eyes. “I thought you knew,” she says, then goes quiet again.

The crew has grown as spooked as the captain, all of them giving Aurous a wide berth, Sheelan, and me, too, though I’ve heard their speculative whispers and know they’re terrified they’ve brought demons on board. As long as they keep their distance, I don’t care who they think we are.

I’m standing off to one side, lost in thought, when Hepha finally comes to talk to me, pointing at my hand.

“That is a priceless gift you bear,” she says. “I hope you appreciate it.”

“I appreciate the woman who gave it to me,” I tell her, “if not the order who abandoned her to her fate.”

The assassin doesn’t meet my eyes and has never shown her face in my presence. But when she turns away, I catch the wetness on her cheek and know that there’s more to the story that I may yet learn.

Someday. For now, I stroke the small band with my thumb and think of Brem.

I do hope she’s well. Then hiss in despair. I am about to fall into melancholy over my lack of foresight, that I could have insisted we bring her along, too, had I thought things through, when I feel the barrier of the Overkingdom’s pressing magic wash over me and instantly reach.

Brem’s not forgotten, but there are those who take precedence now.

Atlas! Zenthris!

REMI! And then we’re together as powerfully as before, more so, if only in the kinspark. Our forward momentum stutters, drawing me out of the dizzying delight that is reconnection with the men I love, which pushes me to rush forward, to catch Aurous, who sways with one hand pressed to her forehead.

But she squeezes my hand and resumes her focus, sighing softly when she speaks.

“Auntie’s agony,” she whispers, a single tear on her cheek. “It’s worse even than I imagined it could be.” Her golden gaze glistens with moisture, lashes thick with it.

“I’m sorry,” I say, feel a hand slide over my back, look down to find my kinspark has joined us, dark eyes finally turned north, too.

“As am I,” Sheelan says.

“We must free her,” Aurous says, aching in her voice, sparks flaring. She’s so rarely temperamental. In fact, I think this is the first time I’ve seen her angry.

“We will,” I say, hugging her around the shoulders, Sheelan between us.

We emerge into the Crescent Sea the following morning, popping out of the end of the river like a cork expelled from a bottle, Aurous’s enthusiasm carrying us far out into the open waters before she slows our forward motion.

It’s so much colder than it was before, bitterly so.

I’ve forgotten what chill is like, our trip too fast to acclimate me to the cusp of winter that I should already be prepared for.

Sheelan is going to hate it here.

And then the cold is forgotten when I spot the familiar red sails in the distance, foam forming a spout at her prow, as the captain calls out his concern.

I wave him off.

“They are friends,” I tell him. “Bring us alongside.”

The Sea Blade is a leviathan that towers over the small Sunnish ship when she heaves to, sailors crawling the rigging like squirrels in their favorite tree, and the moment I make out a blond head at the railing, I’m screaming his name.

“ATLAS!”

Zenthris appears beside him, dark red and pale platinum barely flecks in the distance, but I don’t care.

I’ve never felt so excited, literally giddy, and it’s agony to wait, to anticipate them, while the two ships come together and finally, a million years later, they anchor together and the gangplank of the Sea Blade slides down onto our deck.

I’m running, flying, up toward the belly of the massive ship, but I’m too late because they’re careening down toward me, throwing themselves at me in reckless abandon, and now we’re at risk of going over the side.

There are mouths on mine and hands in my hair, bodies pressing to me, familiar scents and oh, so beloved tastes, and I’m sobbing, not Remalla of Heald, not the War Queen’s daughter, not the Dragon’s Flame. I’m Remi, and they are my loves, and I’m never letting them go ever again.

“Remi.” They’re both trying to kiss me at once, making me laugh, throw back my head and scream in delight, the gorgeous men I love doing the same. “Remi.”

“We need to untether,” someone says from the Sea Blade . “Before we tear their deck off.”

I look up and wave at Isolatta, the tattooed mistress of this ship beaming and waving back with far too much enthusiasm for so fearsome and fierce a pirate witch.

“Aye, captain!” I turn to retrieve the two who came with me before the Sunnish captain can flee back to the river, finding Sheelan and Aurous already waiting.

We cross together, the plank retreating, Hepha’s silent observation expected as the hatch to the Sea Blade closes, leaving us in the dimness beneath her main deck.

“Sheelan, Aurous,” I’m talking too fast, “Atlas, Zenthris.” The introduction will have to do for now.

I’m frantic with need, though not just to strip these men before me to nothing and make them mine again.

It’s far deeper than that, well past desire.

I can’t get enough of them, and find I’m standing frozen, staring and grinning like a fool at them both, their dear faces, their equally stunned and happy expressions.

When I reach for their hands, they clasp mine, the kinspark racing between us, stronger than ever.

I spin and hook Sheelan’s ankle with my foot, pulling her toward us, lifting my arm to allow her into the circle of our contact.

She spins to look up at us all, laughing as she does, though it's with shy and sweet concern that she finally stops at me.

She’s nervous, unsure. And now, when I bend and kiss her, linking her to the kinspark, to them as much as to me, in person, activating the ties that bind us all, I feel why she’s held off from me, why she’s kept her distance, turned down my advances, though I’ve dreamed often in ecstasy of the men I love, on our journey north. She experienced some of it, surely.

Of course, yes. And. What if they don’t want me? She’s terrified this isn’t real.

I straighten, wicked smile for Zenthris answered.

“Sheelan,” he says. She turns to him, and when he bends slowly toward her, she stands on her tiptoes, lips parted, and accepts his kiss, too.

If I thought the kinspark’s welcome of our return to one another was hot, this is an open flame raging through all of us. She’s panting and swaying when her mouth parts from his. Atlas whispers her name, even as she’s already turning toward him, and when my blond Overprince’s soft lips find hers—

I shudder where I stand, the orgasm unexpected, making me stagger, while Zen does, into me, Atlas into him, and Sheelan, gasping with her hands on his face, looks at me in wonder.

“That was…” Sheelan stops.

“I know,” I say. “What’s it going to be like with five?”

Zenthris starts a little. “Wait, what?”

Atlas is laughing. “You have a lot to tell us.” He eyes Aurous. “And another for us to meet more officially.” He sweeps her a bow. “Lady Dragon,” he says in his best Overprince manner.

“My love,” she says, cupping his face and kissing him gently. Before turning and doing the same to Zenthris. Then me, and Sheelan, too, for good measure. “Kinsparks,” Aurous says. “All my loves.”

My body is zinging with the contact, and I’m not the only one.

“You’re going to explain what this is,” Zen growls at her, so much himself it makes me giddy, the grump.

“I will,” Aurous says with a shrug. “And, you’re welcome.”

Sheelan giggles. I can’t help but join her.

“Are you done?” We’ve forgotten completely that there are those who exist outside our circle.

I spin, losing Atlas’s hand but hanging onto Zenthris as I turn to face Isolatta.

She’s smiling, too, despite her tone, and when she steps forward, I release my grip and hug her.

“Welcome back, Remalla,” she says. “I think you have an epic story to tell.”

Someone squeals and pushes Isolatta out of the way, and now I’m crouching and swinging Farah into my arms, the girl who isn’t, who I knew as Apple once, who I feared dead despite Fethest’s assurance, squeezes me so hard around the neck that I’m choking a little, but I don’t care.

Not when I spot Kell and Raltair, Two behind them, the drakonkin crew waving at me with shining relief and joy to see me again.