Page 101 of Wicked Sea and Sky

Marin ducked from under my arm and wandered toward a display of darts strewn across a wooden table. She picked one up, twirled it around her finger, then cocked her head in surprise when it made a thudding sound—like footsteps echoing in a tunnel.

“These are incredible!”

I tossed her a pouch of coins. “Go nuts.”

The swords were a few stalls over. This wasn’t a pleasure trip. Daggers and darts weren’t going to cut it. Annie’s map would get us there. One of these—I eyed the array of glinting blades—would keep us alive.

Until we had to use our cloud coins, of course, and fell tragically to our deaths.

But that was just me being a pessimist.

I adjusted a cutlass in my grip, the weight of it shifting as I tilted the blade. It was lighter than I was used to, but still carried enough steel to end a fight. Balanced and sharp. Exactly what I was looking for.

I’d been joking on the vine about Marin talking in her sleep, until last night, when I woke to her aching chant ofI will not die here, whispered over and over. Her body was curled in on itself, knees pressed to her chest as if she was shielding herself.

From what? Who?

The monster might be nameless to me, but I wasn’t going to let it haunt her.

She hadn’t spoken of her time in that underwater prison.The only scraps of truth I’d gotten were from Cass, or from the night Marin had railed at me in the alcove. And I’d heard every word, but I still needed more.

We already had a villain to fight—the witch. But I felt like one too. For letting Marin end up in that place. For not knowing she was still alive.

She wasn’t going back.

If I had to cut down the giant with only this honed blade, I would.

“Cloud potions are on the house if you buy the blade,” a merchant said, gesturing to a row of bottles perched on a shelf. “Brewed fresh this morning. My version clings longer than a hangover in the sky.”

“Sounds like a headache.” I handed him payment for the cutlass and a leather sheath, then I strapped it to my back.

He passed me a small vial filled with purple liquid. “Nah, it’s the cure. This stuff works. It’ll get you out of any scrape.” He snapped his fingers. “Poof. Instant cloud.”

I gave a noncommittal grunt as the man rubbed the whiskers under his chin.

“You know, now that I have you here, you might be interested in these blades, too. Lighter than a feather in a storm…” He continued to drone on, pitching his wares.

I was going to need to use this potion on myself.

Poof. Instant escape.

I glanced toward Marin, still at the dart booth. She was throwing them at a target, missing each time. I couldn’t stop the smile from creeping in.

Guess the target wasn’t big enough.

She wasn’t skilled in battle, unless it was a battle of wits. Her aim needed work. A lot of it. But she’d keep throwing until shehit something… or ran out of my money.

Which must’ve happened quicker than she expected because she crumpled the empty pouch in her fist, and collected her darts, tucking them into her gear. She thanked the dart vendor, then craned her neck, spotting a booth lined with scythes looking fit for a grim reaper.

And now we were in trouble.

The merchant rapped his knuckles on the table to reclaim my attention.

“My friend… wait, there’s more—”

A man peeled away from the shadows, tugging up his hood as he slipped behind Marin, matching her steps. I didn’t need to see his face to remember the weight of his shoulder and the cold stare under his hood.

He was twice her size. His fingers flexed around the dagger at his belt now that she was alone.