Page 129 of The Sun King's Noon

“Of course.” Flint rolled his eyes. “The unlustful creature you are.”

Warmth flickered within Richard at the thought. All those sailors who had met their death here. And yet, it’d been him, with his strange lack of desire, who rescued his shipmates. As with the Lumeron, there were indeed times when his troublesome nature proved fortunate.

“Now, handsome.” Flint jutted his chin at the ropes. “You tie a pretty knot, but you’ll be wanting to cut us loose now. I’ve a need to put my clothes to rights.”

“And me,” Kaelen muttered, staring at the trousers clustered around his ankles.

Richard snorted. “I think not. Both of you shall stay as you are until we have reached that island.”

Ignoring the resulting protests, Richard narrowed his eyes at the approaching island. It loomed larger, its sandy coastline coming into view.

The eight-legged siren.

Richard had a sinking feeling that these merfolk were child’s play in comparison.

CHAPTER 47

The sun had almost entirely sunk by the time Richard guided theMaiden’s Promiseinto the island’s shallows. It had not been an easy approach. With Kaelen and Flint trussed to the mast, Richard had been forced to manage the sail, the wheel and the chart all at once—though they helped by calling out instructions. After Richard had eased the ship past the headland and dropped the anchor, he allowed himself a sigh of relief.

“Right.” Richard clapped his hands and crossed the deck. “I shall release your bonds, but if I catch a single yearning glance at the waters, you are going straight back to that mast.”

Kaelen and Flint chorused their agreement—Flint rather more colourfully—and on release, immediately fixed their clothes—the knight yanking up his trousers and the bandit adjusting his vest and pulling on a more modest tunic.

Richard stared at where the island awaited—its shore barely visible in the dim light. “The rowing boat. Let us go fast before we lose the light.”

* * *

The beach wasfiner than expected. Pale sand, threaded with broken shells and long strips of seaweed. To the east, the cliffs rose sheer, and bordering the beach, dense and dark, stood the forest.

Richard helped Kaelen haul the rowing boat past the tideline. The sun’s last sliver was sinking, and the sea behind them darkened to a churning black.

“We could sleep here upon the sand,” he said. “I should rather not blunder into that forest.”

“Not here.” Flint glowered at the water. “Those bloody mermaids might try their luck again. Or they might just climb up the coast and rip our throats out.”

“Edge of the trees,” Kaelen suggested. He carried a lantern from the ship that gilded his jaw in gold. “We can sleep within the border and take watches.”

Richard considered the dark wall of trees with distaste. The wind that slunk through their branches sounded like a child’s screams. But Kaelen’s reasoning was sound, and Flint’s objection was not without merit.

“Very well.” Richard grimaced. “The trees, then.”

* * *

Richard did notlike the forest. It was quiet—too quiet—and these trees reared too tall, with thick trunks and bark of strange patterns. They looked, Richard thought as he traced a furrow, like faces. A slack mouth above a patch of moss, which hung like a beard. Two eyes where almond-shaped holes punctured the bark.

Then, there were the spiders.

They were small, no bigger than Richard’s middle finger, but they scuttled over the trees in masses, hiding from the lantern light. Large cobwebs wreathed the branches, and Kaelen—striding ahead with his sword—yelped each time he walked into one. Flint, who trailed behind him, fared no better, often cursing and brushing at his hair to remove the strands.

It all made Richard’s skin crawl. An eight-legged siren.

Was it a spider too? Were these smaller arachnids the siren’s eyes? Did it know of his arrival to its isle?

“Richard.”

The whisper came from behind his left shoulder, barely more than a sigh. Goosebumps prickled his arms.

“Who is that?” Richard turned, only to be yanked back by his elbow.