Page 104 of Wicked Sea and Sky

My throat felt scratchy. I pressed my fingers against my eyelids, my lashes wet.

Only four of us left.

We weren’t whole anymore. That hurt. It was proof that none of us were invincible. And I didn’t need more proof of that. I'd already lost so much, and now I had to bury this new ache alongside all the others—my father, the promise I'd failed to keep, and the years I could never get back.

I settled my hand on Gavin’s shoulder. “I’m glad both of you were there. That he wasn’t alone.”

Gavin’s jaw flexed. An unreadable emotion flickered across his face. He was hiding something, I just didn’t know what.

“Me too.”

I studied him for a moment, wanting to force his secrets to the surface. But that wasn’t fair, demanding the truth whenI was hiding the way my lungs fought for air, the numbness creeping deeper as my curse sank its claws into me. Maybe some secrets were best left buried. The ones we hid to protect others. To protect ourselves.

“Let’s keep moving,” I said quietly, walking ahead.

The tall grass ended at the edge of the bog. A silvery mist unfurled along a dense, tree-lined path. This was the last obstacle before we reached the castle, but unlike the fields, I didn’t think we’d get through unscathed.

We walked single file, Gavin leading the way since his cutlass outclassed my less than passable dagger skills, and it was easier to hide the unsteady rhythm of my steps. Gnarled roots and skeletal branches snaked across our path, half-submerged in mud like wooden predators.

Eerie moss glowed faintly in wispy strings hanging from the trees. The glow cast a sickly light over stagnant pools of black water that reflected the tree’s distorted shapes. Thick mud sucked at my boots, threatening to rip them from my feet. It helped that I could only take shallow breaths. The damp air carried the scent of decay and something metallic. I could taste it. And the less I inhaled, the better.

My skin tingled as we trekked through the bog. The shadows deepened, swallowing the weak light. Distant croaks and rustling leaves broke the stillness. But other creatures that weren’t as subtle lurked in the dark water. Every ripple or bubble popping on the murky surface made my stomach lurch.

I stepped over a particularly large bone and frowned. “So far, the Bog of Regret ranks lower than the fields. I don’t think any cuddly beasts live here.”

“You mean you’re not interested in adopting a slimy eel as our long-lost pet?”

“Does the eel want to snuggle like a newborn pup? Then, no.”

Gavin reached back, guiding me around what appeared to be the rest of some poor creature’s skeleton. The bones were faded and picked clean. Some had splintered, revealing jagged edges.

“This place is so inviting,” I muttered, cringing as my boot accidentally snapped a thin bone hidden in the muck. “What a fun atmosphere.”

“It could be worse.”

“No. Do not justify the bog. It’s ruining my new boots.”

Gavin grinned at me, sliding his hand to my waist as the path dipped sharply. “How do you think I feel? Mine are made of fish leather. Very expensive.”

I let out a short, winded laugh, pressing my palm against the middle of my chest with a wince. “You’re right. They were expensive.”

His fingers dug into my belt, forcing me to stop. “Are you feeling okay? You look pale.”

“Never comment on a woman’s complexion. I’m fine. The stench in the air is making me a little nauseous.”

He didn’t believe me, gaze zeroing in on my hand pressing against the relentless pressure under my ribs. I dropped it to my side. More teasing small talk wasn’t going to wipe the concern off his face. I needed a blunter topic.

I cleared my throat and stepped around him, picking up our pace. My chest still ached, but distance would get me farther than rest.

“Tell me about Bowen’s scars. How did he get them?”

Gavin jogged through the mud to my side. “It was after we returned from finding Incantus. We stored the treasure insideBowen’s secret warehouse, thinking it would be safer there. It was just for one night. We planned to hand it over the next day. But there was a fire.”

“Who set it?”

“A gang leader. Argus Ward. He was retaliating against his father, who happened to be Bowen’s benefactor, so he knew where the handoff was going to take place. And in the chaos, the treasure chest containing the vial of immortality disappeared.”

I looked up at him, my lips snarled. “You lost the treasure?”