Page 32 of Ballad of Sea and Sky

Several ships were docked near the Argo, and I paused, wondering how much it might cost me to barter passage on a ship back to the Silent Isles. I should try to escape, despite my vow not to run off to Caspian. But I had to admit that I’d been treated fairly gently by Caspian and his crew, and based on the stories I’d heard of pirates and sailors as a child, I wasn’t sure I would have the same luck with strangers. They could be a thousand times worse than my current kidnappers, and Caspian clearly needed me alive and well.

I was just debating going to one of the neighboring ships when a heavy hand landed on my shoulder, and a rough, familiar voice startled me.

“Princess.” I groaned as I turned to find Astraios looming over me, a grin gracing his lips. “Thinking of escaping?”

Chapter 11

Ittookeveryounceof my willpower not to look back at Marina as I strode toward the docks.

She’d be fine. Astraios had been told to trail us from a distance all day, and to follow her if we split up. She’d be safe.

How exactly the Selkie Princess had wormed her way into my soul so thoroughly in such a short time was beyond me, but I felt viscerally sick at the thought of losing her.

Seeing her dressed like one of us had been the first crack in my armor. Or, the second, really, since the first had been her terrible acting in the keep. My damned heart had almost pounded out of my chest the night of the falling stars, with her borrowed bodice and boots making her look like more of a pirate than I had ever felt. It was all I could do to force myself not to kiss her right then and there.

I gave myself a mental shake. I should be concerned because she was my prize. My ticket to getting my people to safety and saving them all.

I shouldnotbe worried abouther.Would she find her way? Would she need anything? Skies above, Zephyr was right. I was a simpering, romantic fool.

My personal business didn’t take long to complete, and I paid one of the porters handsomely to carry my purchases back to the Argo and leave them with Zephyr. Ideally, I should use this time to rest, or to plot the next stage of my plan.

Instead, I ducked into a side alley, which smelled like piss, and wound the familiar route to the seedier section of Nordhavn. It would be a few hours before I was due to meet Marina at the Rose & Pearl, and I doubled back a few times to make sure I didn’t run across any of my crew. I didn’t need them to ask questions about where I was going.

In the darkest and dingiest section of the port city, I pushed open the creaking wooden door that I hadn’t visited in several weeks. The room was smoky with incense and black as pitch, but I knew my way well enough to fumble for the candle and matches on the dresser.

“Who’s there?” snapped the aged female voice that was as familiar to me as Zephyr’s. “Ah, it’s you. Come to pity me again, have you?”

“You know I come for your wisdom and company, Theia,” I drawled, lighting candles as I entered to dispel the dark. Theia didn’t need the light, but I preferred to have all of my senses at my disposal whenever I came to visit her.

“Such sweet lies,” she cackled, settling herself down at the rickety table in the center of the smoky room. She looked more sickly than usual, the toll of the poppy she so dearly loved to smoke shortening her long life. She had told me once she was glad of it. “Sit boy, and let me get a look at you.”

I sat, the low stool before her table a way to make her feel superior to her customers, few though they were.

“As usual, your turn of phrase amuses me,” I said, looking into her empty eye sockets. “How exactly can you see me?”

“You know that I mean the other sort ofsight, boy,“ she hissed, unamused at my jab. “And I can hear well enough to know that you’re injured. Staying out of trouble, I suppose?”

“As you say,” I hedged, unwilling to divulge too much to her. Theia’s skills could be bargained for, and I had no doubt her information could be purchased just as easily. She was greedy and unscrupulous.

Life had made her so, and no familial affection would stop her from using any information against me if the price was good enough.

“And my gift?” she asked, her voice falsely sweet as I pulled the paper pouch from my pocket. The necklace I’d purchased from Marella would be better suited on Marina, and I rebelled a bit at the idea of giving it to Theia, who would likely pawn it.It was why I’d bought the pearl comb. Marina should have something to remember her time here. To remember me. I hadn’t yet worked up the nerve to give it to her, lest she ask me too many questions aboutwhyin that endearing and infuriating way she had.

“Here,” I said, opening the bag and presenting the strand of pearls. Theia’s empty eyes went wide as she felt the stones with greedy, gnarled fingers. “Fit for a queen.”

“As it should be,” Theia said, her claws secreting away the necklace to some dark fold of her shawls. “And what knowledge do you seek today, My King?”

I winced at the title, which felt vulgar when she used it. “I need to know if my scheme will work,” I said, trying to decide how much I needed to reveal for an accurate answer. “To get what I want and prevent a war.”

“Vague,” she mumbled, fishing for something under the maroon tablecloth. “But manageable.”

She produced a small velvet bag and reached her hand inside, clacking the stones within. “Three stones,” she reminded me, her sightless face fixed eerily on mine. “No more, no less.”

I nodded as she handed me the bag, not that she could see it, and reached my hand in, drawing out three smooth black stones. There were markings on one side, etched with paint that had been worn off in places by so much handling. I dropped them into her eager hands.

“Ah,” she crooned, sounding gleeful as she felt for the symbols on each stone. “There’s a girl.”

“How could you possibly know that?” I snapped, looking up to see her grinning, broken teeth sharp and brown between withered lips.