Frozen

IT WAS DARK WHEN NAT ENTERED THE crew cabin. Shakes was sitting on a hammock, bent over, his head in his hands, while Liannan rested her head on his shoulder, murmuring softly. The sylph looked up when Nat entered. “Nat is here,” she said softly.

“I can go,” Nat said.

“No, it’s all right, she can stay,” Shakes said, motioning for her to take a seat.

Nat could barely stand to meet his eye. “Shakes,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said finally, looking up from his hands and attempting a smile. “Liannan told me what you hoped would happen. You did right. Besides, I hope I would have done the same.”

“I know,” Nat said. “You’re a good friend.”

“So are you.” He nodded.

They sat together in silence for a while, then Shakes told her about their time on the Van Gogh. They had been put in cages as well, but the Ear’s men hadn’t starved them, since they were going to be sold to the circus, which fetched a good price. Their cages were located down in the hold, so at least they had been warm.

On their second night aboard the Van Gogh, they saw Farouk. He wasn’t in a cage. The slavers could barely navigate or maintain their own ship. When they’d found out Farouk could do both, they pulled him from his cage and put him to work. When the rebellion started, it had been Farouk who let them out of their cages.

“Turned out the whole thing was Zedric’s idea. He’d escaped from the hold when Farouk caught him. He tried to persuade Zedric to stay, but Zedric refused. He forced Farouk to help him, since he didn’t know how to navigate. He was going to try and make it to the port at New Crete. But they got picked up by the slavers, and when Zedric resisted, they shot him on the spot.” Shakes raked his fingers through his hair. “I told Wes those Slaine boys were trouble, but he always did have a soft spot for Santonio survivors.”

“He told me what happened there,” Nat said.

“Did he?” Shakes nodded. “Bet he didn’t tell you he tried to save them, did he—tried to get the Texans to sign the treaty, that’s why he got captured and tortured, but it was too late. They gave him a medal for the ‘victory,’ but he left the service anyway.”

Liannan returned and sat next to Shakes and put his hand in hers. “You should rest,” she said.

Nat left them alone and went to the captain’s quarters to check on Wes, covered in the shroud. Roark was sitting with him, keeping the body company. Tomorrow they would give Wes to the sea. She sat with them for a while, until Brendon urged her to lie down—he would sit with the body. She went back to the crew cabin and when she finally slept her dreams were full of fire.

* * *

The next morning, she woke to the smallmen talking excitedly. They were standing by her bunk.

“Get up!” Roark said happily.

“Come see!” Brendon said, tugging on her sleeve.

Nat followed them to Wes’s cabin, where Liannan and Shakes were hovering by the doorway. The two of them were smiling so intently, it was as if they were almost shining with happiness. Nat felt the first stirrings of hope in her heart.

“Go. He wants you,” Liannan said.

As in a dream, Nat walked into the room.

She found Wes sitting up in his bed. His face was no longer gray, but pink with life. His chest was bare, and the wound right over his heart was merely a scab.

“Hey, you.” He smiled, putting his shirt back on and buttoning it up. “I thought I was a goner when I saw you pull that trigger. I’m lucky you’ve got such terrible aim, huh?”

Nat fought a smile. She remembered that when she had raised her gun, she had hoped for this outcome, had wished for it with everything she had.

“Seriously though, I felt that bullet rip me apart. But I’m here.”

“You are,” she said with a laugh, feeling giddy with happiness. They were wrong about me, she thought. They told me I didn’t have a heart. They told me I would never love anyone . . . and look . . . look at him . . . look how beautiful he is . . . how alive . . .

“You knew this would happen?” Wes said. “But how?”

“It doesn’t matter how,” she said. “You’re here, and that’s all that matters.” A powerful protection spell. I must like him so very, very much, she thought.

“Nat,” he said, taking her hand in his. “I wanted to say something to you before . . . I don’t know if you want to hear it . . . and I don’t know what’s going to happen when we reach the Blue . . . but . . . maybe we can . . . after you find what you’re looking for . . . if everything’s okay . . . maybe we can . . .”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes.” Whatever happened, the answer was yes. Yes!

His eyes lit up with joy. “Yes?”

“Yes.” She leaned down, but he was the one who pulled her to his lap, his strong arms surrounding her, and then they were kissing, and kissing, and kissing, and his mouth was on hers, and they were together, where they belonged, and she buried herself deep into his arms, and he kissed her everywhere, her nose, her cheeks, her neck, her mark, and she was laughing with happiness.

“All right then,” Wes said, squeezing her tightly, his old grin returning, happy to be back on his ship with his crew. “What did I miss?”

Nat was about to reply when Roark burst into the room. “We’re here . . . at the doorway to Arem. But Donnie says we’ve come too late.”

Ahead of them, on the distant skyline, they saw the battleships approaching the small island.

48

THE NAVY FLEET HAD SURROUNDED A tiny green island, almost invisible as it was hidden so well by the gray frozen ones around it. It was in the middle of the archipelago, a small green gem.

“Supercarriers,” Wes said with a frown.

“Missile destroyers, frigates, missile cruisers. It’s a full drone army.” Shakes whistled, peering through the binoculars. “They’re serious about this.”

Liannan paled. “They must not be allowed to enter the doorway. My people cannot defend themselves against this firepower. If they are allowed to enter, it will mean death to Vallonis. If only we still had our drakonrydders . . .”

Nat was startled out of her paralysis. She had been overwhelmed by the size of the fleet, helpless against the magnificent array and might of the country’s massive military machine, commanded by soldiers somewhere in bunkers, hidden far away where they could not be stopped. She had done this. She had given away the stone, and now it was too late—there was nothing they could do now, nothing they could do to stop it—but something Liannan said struck a chord in her.

Drakonrydders.

“The drakon,” she whispered. “The monster in the sea. The wailer. You called it a protector of Vallonis.”

“Yes, but it is missing its rider and it is uncontrollable without one, a wild animal; otherwise it is our greatest defense.”

Nat felt as if she were waking up from a deep and dream-filled sleep, as the memories she had long suppressed returned to her all at once.

The voice she heard inside her . . . that had ceased to speak because it was speaking in other ways . . .

The song of the little white bird . . .

The creatures that came to feed them . . .