Page 118 of Sharpest Court

Erik glanced down at me in question, his fair lashes tipped with moonlight.

“How did you know I was here,” I clarified, “working for the empress?”

His eyebrow arched in amusement. “You know better than to request that information without offering something of equal value in return.”

“What do you want?”

“Right now? Here, with you?” His full lips stretched with a smile that made him devastatingly, disgustingly beautiful. “I want for nothing.”

I clenched my fists to ward off the oily slither of my dread. Did his answer mean that he already possessed the sword? That he had ambushed the others tonight? I very much look forward to seeing the ambassador again, he’d said.

Now I feared he already had Keil in his grasp.

My mind whirred, trying to solve problems before I knew for certain that they existed, as we stopped at the clifftop, where Holden was unlacing his boots. The dark ocean glittered below and the Crater stretched out behind us, an open geode overflowing with music and dancers and the shifting light of bonfires.

I started peeling away from Erik, but the muscles of his arm hardened, keeping me pinned against him.

“Don’t stray too far,” he whispered against the shell of my ear, a wicked smile in his voice. “Or I might just have to bind you to my side after all.”

Though he’d spoken playfully, with the air of a private joke, I shuddered as he released me.

“I didn’t realize there was another island so close,” Perla said quietly, gazing across the ocean toward the patch of land we’d passed on our journey into Banarrat.

“Didn’t you see the island on your voyage, Lady Perla?” Finbar asked, slow and wary.

Perla kept her eyes fixed ahead, throat bobbing. “I was below deck for much of the trip.”

In other words, Erik’s crew had locked her up. I didn’t know if Finbar suspected as much, but I knew from the way he kept scrutinizing our group that he certainly suspected something.

“The mainlanders call the island Neyamay.” Holden kicked off his boots and began unbuttoning his shirt. “But here on Banarrat, it is known as Abner’s Edge.”

I jolted. “Abner?”

Finbar’s eyes flicked toward me, as though he’d heard the recognition in my voice.

“It’s the name of some old forgotten god,” Holden said absently.

But the god couldn’t have been forgotten, because I’d heard that name before. I scrambled for the memory, but all I could recall was Dashiel’s account of the little island: Neyamay is the island where Saxon killed the first Banarrati Hollows who’d opposed him.

I was still frowning in thought when Holden’s bare throat caught my eye. “Tucked your necklace away for safekeeping, General?” I asked lightly.

“I wouldn’t want to lose it to the waves,” he answered, then looked slyly toward the pocket watch at Perla’s hip. “I would recommend diving soon after me, Lady Perla. It seems that midnight is fast approaching.”

While Perla’s expression remained neutral, Finbar glanced suspiciously between us. He was the only one who hadn’t understood Holden’s remark. As the prince rested a hand upon his little knife, my gaze caught on his tattoos again. They were the crests of Hollow families, he’d claimed. But according to Keil’s information, at least one of those crests had actually belonged to a Wielder family.

The muddled history nagged at me now, like an odd itch I couldn’t scratch, as Holden tied his hair into a bun.

“For the soldiers’ victory,” Holden said, reversing to the cliff’s edge. “And for Banarrat.” Then he opened his arms like wings and tipped backward, his powerful body somersaulting before it speared through the dark water like a blade.

Three breaths later, he popped above the surface and laughed, waving us down.

Perla began stretching her shoulders, waiting for Holden to clear out of the water.

“You’re not truly diving, Lady Perla?” Finbar frowned, his frilled lapels buffeting in the wind. “Holden may be arrogant enough to dive from here, but you needn’t follow his example.”

“Don’t fuss over her, Prince.” Erik smirked. “The lady is far more capable than she appears.”

“His Majesty is right,” Perla said. “We in Avanford often dive from greater heights. My own mother was a champion diver.”