The old captain’s eyes shone at the prospect and the praise. “I could.” He puffed out his chest, which only succeeded in making his stomach protrude more than normal. “There are mists that shroud the islands, but I know they can be parted by magic. I’ve seen it done before,” Jarvik insisted.
“When?” Penelope asked.
“Years ago, I took an injured soldier there. A mage. He parted the mists with magic and showed me a safe cove to anchor in.”
Penelope clasped her hands together as she flicked a glance at Kalen, whose arm was steadily worsening. Time was slipping away, and we didn’t know how long we had left. “Then it’s settled. We leave immediately.” Her tone brooked no argument.
“Well, I hope you make it there.” Fagren threw a dark glance at Rafe. “Provided the dear captain can stay sober enough for the length of the journey.”
A Path Forward
The night turned stormy as the crew untied the ropes and hoisted the sails. Fagren procured us some supplies from the town before we left. It would be a short but precarious journey across the Sea of Pearls, where all sorts of sea creatures lurked. The cerulean-blue coastline of Illiador gave way to a churning sea, and the ship rocked dangerously over swells and strong currents as we left the coast behind, heading into the open sea.
Captain Jarvik positioned himself on the upper deck, shouting instructions to the sailors who adjusted the rigging and sails. “We will need more wind if we want to get there faster.”
Penelope stood up. “Get some rest,” she said to me. “I will man the sails.” Her eyes narrowed as she braced her legs and gathered her magic, and a gust of salty sea breeze caught the sails. The wind picked up as Penelope guided it, propelling the ship faster over the open sea. If I had my fae magic, I could have assisted her, but for the moment there was nothing I could do to influence the elements. Once the air and sea had called to me, and I could feel the magic pervading each and every part of them. I could summon it and guide it, shaping it into whatever I wanted. Now all I had was mage magic, which wasn’t going to help us out here on the open sea.
We were lucky—the weather brightened the next day. The small ship glided across the water, leaving the coast of Illiador until we reached the darker, more treacherous waters in the middle of the Sea of Pearls. Captain Jarvik expertly guided us toward the islands that lay in wait in the deepest waters of the sea.
The day went by slowly as Rafe and I helped the sailors with the ropes. Penelope spent most of her time with the captain, trying to make sure we remained on track. She could control the air to an extent, but the ocean was fickle and water-fae were rare. I was the only one of us who could have forced the sea to obey if we were to fall on rough waters. Now all I could do was pray we got to the islands safely.
In my free time I alternated practicing mage magic with Rafe, as he taught me things I had never learned before, and sparring with Tristan, as he insisted on continuing with my training even though I didn’t have fae magic to back it up. Still, something was better than nothing, and I needed to be stronger and more resilient if I was going to get through this alive.
Kalen lay on his bed below deck, wasting away as his strength began to leave him. His arm had started to form a rot, and his fingers had turned black. Once it spread to his chest it would be a matter of time before it reached his heart. The problem was, we had no idea when it would happen.
Spending so much time with Rafe onboard this small vessel made my heart ache. He was polite and restrained, and even when he spoke, he only discussed our plans or training, never anything personal. After our practice sessions, he would busy himself with other chores aboard the ship.
I could tell he was avoiding me.
The next evening, when Tristan and I finished sparring on deck, I stole a quick glance around the ship and spotted Rafe helping the men tie off some ropes. He had been staring at me and looked away as soon as he caught my eye. His shirt was open, and his chest glistened with sweat as he worked. It was hard to imagine him growing lazy and content with sitting on his throne and dealing with insufferable nobles. He was a warrior and an adventurer, but I had to keep reminding myself he was also a king. Soon he would have to return to his kingdom, and I would return to mine, if I got out of this alive.
Tristan seemed amused with Rafe’s behavior and didn’t waste time telling me so. “Your beloved doesn’t seem to want to let you out of his sight,” he snorted.
I shrugged casually, a hint of a smile tugging at my lips. I didn’t want to reveal my feelings about Rafe anymore, especially in front of Tristan. Rafe had made it clear he had no intention of being with me, and I didn’t know what more I could do to convince him that what happened between Tristan and me was a mistake.
But Tristan wasn’t scowling like he usually did when we spoke about Rafe. His attitude toward the other man had changed considerably since we came to Illiador, as he had come to realize how much Rafe had done over the years to help the fae.
Tristan raised an eyebrow. “I presume he hasn’t forgiven you yet?”
My eyes narrowed. “No,” I said flatly. “And I don’t think he ever will.”
Tristan’s mouth quirked to one side.
