Chapter Four

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Chapter Four

Cool wind brushed my hair back, bringing the scent of salt in the air as I looked upon the pleasant waters of the ocean. The ship we boarded was spacious enough for a small convoy of passengers. It wasn’t large enough to draw suspicion from pirates—or from sea creatures, for that matter.

The waters weren’t tumultuous, but the ride was certainly bumpy. The captain of the ship, a grizzled old thing named Captain Patel, told me it was the perfect sailing weather. Sailing was everything I imagined it to be.

Except for the fact that Clarice continually complained about her urge to throw up.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Clarice moaned for the seventh time that day. She was sprawled over the edge of the ship, kneeling on the deck in her masculine garments. “I hate sailing.”

Lucan stood next to her, offering encouragements. “They always say that the more you do it, the more you get used it,” he said. “It isn’t so bad once you get through the fact that the ship is moving.”

“I bloody know the ship is moving,” she growled. “Ugh. And so is my stomach.” The duchess’s daughter gripped the sides of the ship with such a desperate face. I couldn’t keep myself from snorting with laughter. Her grey eyes shot daggers at me, but she said nothing.

Titus leaned on the oaken rail next to me as Lucan continued to console Clarice. “She’s never held up very well with sailing.”

A smile pulled at the edges of my lips. “I can see that.” I studied the setting sun as it reflected off the waves. The crew milled about behind me, adjusting ropes and other things that were apparently important when sailing a ship. Captain Patel was at the helm near the steering wheel, talking with Mayra in a heated conversation that probably had to do with the way she disliked him steering the boat—or some other petty, nonsensical thing. Or it could have something to do with the chocolate truffles he stashed inside a compartment under the wheel.

Either way, Mayra had been acting strange ever since she boarded the ship. She said earlier that we would meet with a council of magical creatures in the forest of the Sylph Queen, Astera. We were supposed to get their approval before asking for a treaty, apparently. But I didn’t see the point. Wasn’t Astera the supreme ruler?

A sudden yell of “Land ho!” interrupted my thoughts. One of the sailors in the lookout post had spotted land.

As much as I squinted my eyes at the expanse of crystal waves, I still couldn’t see the land. Finally, the minuscule brown speck came into view. It was the Norian town of Atroph, a famous port city known for its delicious fish and tropical fruit. I smiled when I thought of what Natz said to me several days before: If you’re not too busy with your Harbinger duties, missy, the tomte had said, do care to bring me back a fruit. The prickly kind.

I sighed and leaned against the oak rail. A splash to my right made me jump, but when I saw the spiked head of a turtle, I relaxed. “I hope we can make it to Nor before the sea creatures notice us,” I thought out loud.

I saw Titus nod as I wrapped my arms around myself and bent over the edge to peer at the depths of the water. The clear blue revealed nothing. No creatures of havoc or evil. It was peaceful. I didn’t like the fact that we were constantly moving—roiling with the planet itself—but I could get used to it. “This isn’t as horrible as I thought it would be,” I admitted to Titus. “It’s calming. A complete contrast to what happened…” I trailed off, biting my lip. To what happened two weeks ago, was what I didn’t say.

But Titus understood. “I know.” He smiled sadly. “Mother loved sailing. The breeze, the ocean, the sun. Everything.” His hand tightened on the railing, his amber gaze set unmoving on the horizon. “If I had been there—if I had listened to you—she would be—”

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