Chapter 64

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Noah

The sore muscles in his legs were the least of his concerns, as it turned out, as he stood on the main deck of the merchant's sailing ship The Wave Slayer.

It was noon, and Noah could just glimpse the brown-green mound of the nearest Tortoise Isle in the distance – with a spyglass. He sighed, lowering the instrument and casting a glance around at the vast blue expanse that stretched out on all sides.

Fenek and some of the crew were below deck in a shared cabin for a quick bite – smoked eel, flatbread and biscuits; same as what they'd had for breakfast. But Noah hovered outside, leaning anxiously onto the starboard wood railing.

The sun glared down at him from a cloudless sky, and the wind was dreadfully calm. The pennant at the top of the mainmast, depicting the two bronze wings of the Nimisian emblem, flapped about slackly. Earlier, the first mate had told Noah that, at this rate, it would take about a week to get to Azuria.

A goddamn week.

Only issue was, Noah wasn't sure at all that Zemisha, Jaden, or Moira had the luxury of those seven days. He had this gnawing feeling, especially, where Jaden was concerned. Maybe it was the ominous loss of their connection.

But it wasn't just that. Even in the heart of the desert, they'd heard rumors of Emperor Neros' cruelty. Apparently, he was unpredictable. He sometimes tortured and killed on mere whims. So where did that leave Jaden?

Noah ran a hand through his hair nervously, and rolled up his khaki green sleeves. He stared below at the curving bulk of the hull, then up ahead at its sharp, elongated tip where all the rigging and cables met in a convoluted system. He gazed down again at the depressingly faint churn of the waves. What if . . . maybe—

He started when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Spun about.

"Aren't you jumpy?" It was the ship captain, amused.

He was in his forties, tall and lean, with braided hair like Fenek, and skin so dark it sometimes tinted blue in the sun. He had a small gray pet monkey almost always clinging to his shoulder – or his head. The monkey was there right now, cocking his head at Noah. They could've been characters in a children's book.

"Sorry," Noah said, summoning a smile. "You could say that I'm . . . late. For something important."

The captain held out a hand. "I was wondering if I could have my spyglass back."

"Oh," Noah said sheepishly. "Of course." He gave it back, and the captain stowed it absently inside his long jacket.

He patted Noah's shoulder again. "Got a girlfriend waiting for you in Azuria?"

Noah thought musingly of Zemisha and Jaden, of just how insane it would sound were he to try explaining it.

These things are never simple with me, are they?

"No," he said finally, "not exactly."

The captain took a few steps back, and on his broad shoulders, the monkey switched sides, thin tail curling behind him.

"Well, there's nothing you can do," the captain said.

"Just wait for the wind, I know," Noah finished for him, not without an irritated itch in his nerves.

The captain gave him one last smile, glanced briefly toward the eastern sky, and strode away toward the companionway.

Noah leaned both arms on the railing, frowning.

Wait for the wind.

But what if . . . ?

On Noah's command – the same way his arm lifted whenever he wanted it to – familiar energy dripped through him, shivered across his skin and radiated from its core near his heart. He smirked.

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