Smoke and Shadow: The Fireweaver, Book 1

Chapter 31. STEAL AWAY

CHAPTER 31. STEAL AWAY

The moonlight fell on the harbor masts, all of them nodding gently like great, sleeping sea creatures. The water was black, tipped with a thousand wavering crescents; the moon in shattered remnants. The waves lapped like a whisper of secrets on the sand, like snow melting in the moonlight. Secrets to tell, secrets to keep.

"Back to Mona Jay," she bade Marna, who stubbornly wouldn't leave. Who nibbled affectionately at Dimarrah's sleeve and then rooted out the smell of snacks that were in Dimarrah's pockets. She gave the huef one last finka fruit. She'd swiped a stash of the ripest ones from Mona's table on the way out.

"Go on!" She had to shove the stalwart huef, who finally turned to leave, flicking her pretty white mane, and disappeared over the sand dune.

Dimarrah made her way silently down to the docks, keeping to the shadows so that she would remain unseen by any sleepy guards at the docks, but she saw no one; not even at the gatehouse. It was a harbor not much used, much less during Festival. And no one in their right mind would set sail at night. 

If she were lucky enough to find it, and then lucky enough that it was sufficiently intact, she would leave at first light. The moon was coy, hiding at intervals behind clouds. Sailing in the dark was a fool's errand. She at least saw the sense in waiting until dawn.

She found the Obsidian easily enough, a small and light schooner. A bonny thing with front and aft sails on two masts, easy enough to maneuver alone. Not so easy come rough weather, but she would manage. During her time at the lighthouse, her grandparents had taught her what she needed to know about sailing. She thanked them both silently now, as she stepped across the dock's creaking boards.

Dimarrah ran her fingertips along the curved wood of the hull, black and lacquered. Someone tended to it enough that the salts and spray and wind hadn't corroded the sides. She gave it an appreciative pat. It would cut through the waves smoothly, swiftly, and reflect every ripple in the water. Fifty-six feet of perfectly laid teak decking, a small but cozy set of rooms below. 

She burned through the old-fashioned padlock with the light of the stars and the cant glow off the moon, when she heard someone behind her.

"You would steal my boat." And my heart. His voice, in her head.

She turned slowly around.

He was a statue in the moonlight, his face all angles and shadows, but his eyes were a glowing torrent.

"You would betray me," she looked around, sure that someone else would step out from the dark along with him. But no one came forward. Still, he hadn't moved.

She saw the blood on his sleeve.

Her voice caught in her throat. "I saw you and the Empress—"

"You saw the Jadeim."

Before she could utter another word, he crossed the few remaining feet between them, caught her in an embrace, mouth pressed over hers, over her neck, sliding along her jawline.

He kissed her like he would consume her. She gulped the air like she'd forgotten how to breathe. The torrent in his eyes turned to a blaze of hunger, reflecting the stars. Her need for him and his for her was a mountain moving, two worlds colliding.

"I need to kiss you a thousand times, Dimarrah. Mo Feurweitze."

My Firewitch.

Dimarrah felt the fire from a thousand pinprick stars channel through her fingertips, suffusing every part of her. She tried to push him back, in warning.