Page 30 of Ballad of Sea and Sky

“No ships are allowed on the Isles,” Caspian pointed out dryly. He had dropped my hand once we had left the throng, and he now strode with them stuffed in his pockets.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Use your head, Princess,” Caspian sighed irritably. “If there’s no blockade, then it’s your father keeping others from landing on or leaving the islands.”

“But why?” I asked, trying to see the situation the way my father would. “Is he afraid of leaving the shores open to invasion?”

“I think he’s more afraid of people leaving and discovering his lies,” Caspian quipped, making me scowl defensively. “It doesn’t matter now, Urchin. Humans rarely come this far north anymore. There’s some situation brewing in the south that takes much of their attention, I hear. The dwarves and demons took over several decades back.”

“And the sirens?” I asked as we rounded a corner to another charming, cobbled street of shops and houses.

“We are a sea-faring people, Princess,” Caspian said with a smirk. “We crave adventure. We never stay put for long, but we always return home eventually.”

“And where is home for you now?” I asked again, brushing the crumbs from the pie off on my trousers and hoping to catch him off guard.

Caspian gave me a mocking look. “You know that’s a secret, Urchin,” he replied, giving me a pointed look. “One that is well-protected, lest your father get ideas about invading.”

“My father willneverleave the Isles,“ I scoffed. He gave me a blank look, and I rolled my eyes. “He won’t! He rarely even moves between them. I’m not going to send him to attack you.”

“I should hope not,” Caspian replied, taking my hand again and pulling me sharply to the left. We ducked into a shop that smelled like herbs and dust and magic. “Especially since I won’t be telling you its location.”

“Why are we in here?” I asked, coughing and covering my mouth with my arm. The dust and smell of herbs was so thick it was almost suffocating, and my eyes watered at the pungent aroma.

“I need something,” Caspian replied vaguely, looking around for the proprietor. His white wings were tucked in tight to avoid knocking over the various jars and bottles, and he turned to hunt for the owner as I smothered another cough.

We spotted the proprietor at the same moment. He was an elderly male with thick glasses and shiny white horns protruding from his shaggy head. A demon then, maybe? He was sitting behind a counter, a shelf filled with bottles and vials and boxes behind him, and he looked up blearily, smiling a grin that was short a few too many teeth.

“Welcome, welcome,” he greeted us in a wheezy voice. “How can I help?”

“I need something to ease breathing,” Caspian said. I shot him a sharp look, stifling another cough. He didn’t meet my eyes as he continued, “Not just something for a cough, but something that will make breathing easier.”

“Tricky,” said the male thoughtfully. “Is this breathing difficulty new, or chronic?”

He turned, examining the glass bottles and jars behind him and selecting a few. The bottles tinkled gently as they were moved, and Caspian looked down at me expectantly.

I glared, irritated that I had failed at hiding my weakness and that he had the audacity to presume to doctor me. Caspian raised a brow, turning back to the wizened male.

“Chronic,” he guessed, and I cursed my face and it’s inability to hide any of my secrets.

The old proprietor turned, studying Caspian as if he were the one with the illness. “Only magic can cure a chronic complaint I fear,” he said, removing his glasses and wiping them with a handkerchief. “I hear the Seelie Queen in the south—”

“A temporary treatment will do,” Caspian cut in, squeezing my hand tightly as if I might run at the suggestion. I was seriously considering trying as the old male nodded and began crushing herbs and folding them into little cloth pouches.

“Drink as a tea morning and night while the cough remains,” he instructed, placing the pouches into a paper bag that he handed to Caspian. “For added relief, breathe in the steam. This is enough for a week only, I fear, but if you come back next week—”

“That will be fine,” Caspian said, pushing a gold coin across the counter. The demon’s eyes widened as he took in the coin, which was probably far more than the tea was worth. “For your discretion,” Caspian added, giving the male a pointed look.

He didn’t wait for a response, pulling me from the shop as I tried to stifle another cough. The cold morning air cost me the battle, making me cough violently as we emerged back onto the street.

“I don’t need—”

“How long?” Caspian asked, interrupting my wheezed avowal that I was fine. He looked like he was ready to ask someone for hot water right at that moment, and I scowled, wiping the tears from my eyes that always came with a fit of coughing.

“That’s my business,” I rasped, feeling hoarse and embarrassed. “I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not,” Caspian replied, frowning down at me. “Who did this to you, Urchin?”

“Did what?” I asked, stifling another cough.