Page 36 of Witchsea

I hold the key up. “Got it.”

Ren grunts, pushing to his feet. “Tracker, get us out of his fucking hellhole.”

“With pleasure.” Tracker heads to the wheel.

Ren walks up to me and offers me a hand to stand up. I take it, my legs feeling shaky. “There are holes in your ship.”

“Yes, there are, but better that than no ship.” He smirks. “Your crazy plan worked. Where next?” He nods at my body. “Your chest is glowing.”

I pull down the front of my top to reveal my upper chest but nothing more, and it’s enough to see what has changed. It doesn’t hurt this time. I see an island with swirling music notes wrapped all around it.

Any smirk, any smile or hope in Ren’s eyes dies as he sees the map’s destination. “The dream realm. Of course it would be that island.”

“You know it?” I ask.

“Yes,” he begins. “There is a creature on that island who cannot leave it and is cursed by the gods to live its life there. The creature offended every god once, but they could not kill it. The dream realm is said to be a place for the eater of dreams, and people vanish there without reason or cause. People don’t go there, and the king won’t follow us to that place.”

I pull the top of my shirt back up and look out at the fallen moons, the legend I never would have thought was real until I saw it. “One last trial.”

“The dream realm isn’t far from here. A day or two,” Ren offers.

“Good. We will finally be rid of each other,” I joke, but it doesn’t feel like a joke anymore. It feels like the end of something that really hadn’t had a chance to begin.

Chapter

Seventeen

Freckles finds me at a table and hands me a wine bottle full of something that’s very pink and has tiny little flowers swimming around it. Her outfit tonight is dark green, a waistcoat and tight trousers that show off her figure and make her red hair bright. I’m wearing one of Ren’s shirts and my leggings because I couldn’t find anything else in a hurry earlier, and my hair is a mess of waves down my back. “We should celebrate! You have two keys, which is incredible! You’ve survived two of the trials.” She sits down opposite me on the bench. “I asked Ren to join us, but he is carving ice on the deck. His own celebration, in a way, now that the bigger holes in the ship have been fixed. Everything’s good, and we get to an awful place tomorrow. So, drink with me and smile today. You deserve that.”

I don’t think I deserve anything. I jumped into the sea after Ren when my brother is waiting for me, when this is my only chance to save his life. I made a selfish decision, and I could have died because of it. I clear my throat. “I’ve only really tried really disgusting alcohol that was made from scratch. They called it mead, and I lost interest really quickly. I’m not a drinker.”

“Yeah, this isn’t horrible mead, this is ambrosia. It’s made from the grapes and flowers of the sweetest nectar.” She sighs and stares at the bottle. “It’s called happy wine for a reason. It makes you relax and enjoy yourself, and it’s made from the sweetest grapes. It’s my favorite. I save up my money sometimes to buy it, but I haven’t drunk it in so many years because, well, I’ve never had a reason to. Now I do.”

“Can I join this, or is it just a girls’ thing?” Wyatt looks at me for an answer as he hovers over the seat next to me. We haven’t been talking much since that one night when I lost it with him about knowing we were starving and doing nothing. The truth is, I know his parents were controlling and horrid people. I saw the effect it had on his sister, making her just as bitter and horrid, but Wyatt became the opposite of them. Charming and chill and free. He was my friend in the oddest sense, and it’s almost like having a little drop of home with him on board.

“Why not?” I pat the top of the chair, and Wyatt grins as he takes a seat. “Freckles told me you helped keep everyone calm with jokes while we went through the storms.”

“I wouldn’t say his jokes were keeping me calm. I hate storms,” Freckles mutters, but she smiles at us. “Mellyn was laughing though. It was better than Mellyn offering to sing to us all. I swear the crew looked ready to walk up to the deck and jump off. They are still frightened about his magic.”

“I’m still getting used to the whole magic thing. I know the king has magic, but no one sees him much, and he doesn’t exactly put on a magic show for the nobles.” Wyatt leans back in his seat.

“Take my hand,” Freckles challenges.

“No, what’s your power? Other than being absolutely beautiful.” Wyatt winks at her.

“Compliments will get you nowhere with me.” Freckles lifts her chin, dragging three glasses over between us. “I’m waiting for my mate. So, therefore, I have nothing to do with the male race until then.”

“Mate?” Wyatt questions as Freckles opens the bottle and begins to pour the glasses for us.

“It’s kind of like someone who’s destined for them by the gods. It’s a witch thing,” I softly explain. “It’s like waiting for your husband you’ve never met before.”

“Right, mate.” Wyatt looks like he might be sick at the thought, and he shakes off whatever he is thinking. “I’m sure he won’t mind me helping you while you wait for him.”

“Wyatt, take a drink and stop talking,” I murmur, pushing a glass towards him.

I pick my own up and Freckles does the same. “To friendship, survival, and happy nights when we can steal them.” We clink our glasses together, and I take a long drink of the ambrosia. Wow! It tastes like pure heaven. I drink the entire glass in seconds, and I want more. It’s sweet, like the woven sugar powder my mother got me once, but this has a spicy aftertaste to it. I smile brightly, my body feeling relaxed and free. I want to dance and laugh and smile more. Why don’t I smile more?

“I heard we were drinking. I can play music and drink too,” Tracker shouts, and we all laugh. Or am I just laughing? I look at Wyatt, who is laughing with me, and we giggle together. “Whoa, cousin. Did you give them ambrosia? It’s strong for witches, but for mortals? It’s like drinking a million shots in one.”