Rain fell in icy sheets.
Penny clung to the mast. The ship rocked sideways, slamming down on black waves. The wind howled in her ears. Sailors stumbled across the deck, trying desperately to tie up stray ropes and crates of oranges. She could just make out Grayson standing on the deck, shouting something to the captain.
She turned, squinting through the rain. Flurry Tower loomed in the distance, a black, jagged tooth against a white cliff. The boat lurched, and Penny's stomach lurched with it. Gods above. She was going to need a bucket when they got there.
If they ever got there.
She glanced at the stairs. Maribel was somewhere below, preparing hot tea and dry clothes for the sailors. When the storm had started up several hours ago, most of the other women had followed suit.
The ship pitched sideways. She gripped the mast with frozen fingers.
"Penny!" a voice called.
Grayson stumbled across the deck, one hand braced against the wind. His blond hair was in tatters, and the wind had whipped colour into his cheeks. He also, Penny noted with rising anxiety, looked absolutely livid.
Bugger.
"What are you doing?" Grayson stabbed a finger toward the stairs. "Go below deck!"
She shook her head. "I can help."
"Go. Now."
Penny didn't move. Grayson swore — a filthy, colorful string of words that would have made even the most rugged sailor blush — and reached for her arm. Penny dug her heels in, clinging to the mast.
"Wait!" Penny swallowed. "How bad is it? Is this..." Her heart slammed in her chest. "Would you consider this a boatwrecker?"
Grayson's mouth tightened. "Go below deck, Princess. I'm not asking again."
Water smacked the boat. Wooden crates smashed against the side, shattering into splinters. A howl of pain split the air. Penny and Grayson exchanged a glance; without a word, both of them sprinted across the deck, slipping over the wet boards.
A young sailor lay under a pile of crates. His trousers were torn, and his left leg was bent at an unnatural angle. And his pain. Penny winced. It felt like a scorching poker under her ribs, so hot that it was almost cold.
Grayson dropped to his knees. "What happened?"
"The barrel came lose." The young sailor was shivering. "Smashed my ankle."
Grayson shoved aside several crates. "Can you move it?"
The sailor shook his head. Grayson's mouth was a white line. He took the younger boy's leg, rotating it in his hands. "Does this hurt?"
White-hot pain lashed through her. The young sailor grimaced.
"A little," he said.
Grayson turned the ankle again. "And now?"
Agony sliced through her. "Stop it!" Penny gritted her teeth, gripping the slick railing for support. "Stop. Gods above."
Grayson glanced up at her in surprise. Then understanding filled his face, followed by something darker. He lowered the sailor's leg. "It's broken. You'll need to bind it."
Penny rubbed at her chest. "He needs a healer."
Grayson's blue eyes were the colour of winter storms. "We don't have one on board." He swore, seizing a bit of rope. Then he thrust it into the young sailor's hand. "Here. Bite down on this."
Something cold settled in Penny's chest. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to set it," Grayson said.
"Do you know how?"
He gave her the ghost of a smile. "I grew up with Orin as a guardian, remember? I'm well-versed in setting broken bones. Trust me."
Grayson took the sailor's leg. The younger boy closed his eyes, a piece of rope wedged in his mouth. His fear felt like acidic lemon juice. And pain, Penny thought, rain stinging her eyes; there was so much pain, too.
Grayson braced himself. Panic flooded her.
"Wait!" Penny called.
Grayson stilled, looking up at her. Penny dropped to her knees, taking the boy's hand. She imagined the taste of warm chocolate-chip cookies. The smell of freshly cut grass. Bluebells in the springtime. The young sailor relaxed, his body slackening.
"Okay." Penny looked at Grayson. "Do it now."
Grayson twisted the boy's ankle. Searing pain ripped down her spine, and Penny bit back a whimper. Grayson stopped.
"Penny?" His voice was tight.
"I'm fine." She blew out a breath. "Keep going."
Grayson's eyes were dark. He turned back to the ankle, moving it in increments. Penny squeezed her eyes shut. Every small turn felt like a punch to the ribs. Every jostle, a knife to the gut. She focused on Grayson's steady hands. They were sailor's hands, she thought; always so measured and sure.
Grayson lowered the ankle. Penny exhaled.
"Done." Grayson rose, his hand shifting to his sword. "Get him below deck. Ask Maribel to make him comfortable."
Something fierce swelled in her chest. "I'm not leaving you."
He half-closed his eyes. "Penny, I swear to gods—"
The ship rocked.
Water sloshed on to the deck. The vessel shuddered, pitching violently to the side. Sailors scrambled across the deck, their shouts lost to the deafening wind. Somewhere, a bell began to ring. Penny rose, bile crawling up her throat.
"What is it?" She looked at Grayson. "What does that bell mean?"
His expression was grim. "It means that."
She whipped around, following his gaze. Something was splitting the waves; a great, towering white mass. Penny blinked. For a bizarre moment, she thought it might be an iceberg, but no; the mass had eyes. And sharp fangs.
Penny's stomach plummeted. "What is that?"
"That's a sea dragon." Grayson's eyes were fixed ahead. "They're native to Lox."
Penny swallowed. "I take it they're not friendly."
His grip tightened on his sword. "No."
The creature lunged; its teeth tore through one of the masts, sending chunks of wood raining down. Penny instinctively raised her hands, although she needn't have bothered; Grayson half-shoved her out of the way, stepping in front of her.
The captain charged down the stairs.
"Hold, lads!" His words were ripped away by the wind. "Steady!"
The creature roared. Several men raised swords and bows, their faces narrowed with determination. Grayson's face was dangerous.
"Penny. Get below deck."
She didn't move. Wasn't sure if she could.
"Steady." The captain held up a hand. "Wait for my order!"
Grayson's voice was furious. "Penny!"
"Now!" the captain cried.
Spears launched through the air. The sea dragon shrieked, tossing its head from side-to-side. Penny watched, heart racing, as the weapons bounced off the creature, tumbling like silver shooting stars into the sea. The captain's shoulders tensed.
"Again!" he cried. "Men, at the—"
The sea dragon lunged.
The creature plucked the captain from the boat. There was a terrible crunch; the rain turned red, pooling on the deck. Penny staggered backward. The captain's blood was sliding down the deck, oozing into her shoes. Her socks.
Grayson seized her shoulders. "Penny, if you don't go down those godsdamn stairs, I will throw you down them."
Determination filled her.
She shoved Grayson aside, striding across the deck. The sea dragon lunged for another mast. Men scattered behind her, diving behind overturned barrels and crates. She pushed up her sleeves. A strange numbness settled on her skin, blanketing her like fresh snow.
"Penny!" Grayson roared.
She raised her arms. "Hey!"
The sea dragon turned, nostrils flaring. Penny waved her arms again.
"Hey!" she called. "You!"
The creature lunged. Penny dodged, the sharp edge of a fang grazing her back. She could hear Grayson swearing, and the sound of wet feet against wood. Was he climbing a mast? She couldn't risk looking behind her.
She focused on the sea dragon. Thought of soft, fresh bread. Morning sunshine on sheets. Hot chocolate on a winter day. She had worked this magic a dozen times on Ryne; she could do it for a rampaging dragon, too.
"Calm!" Penny raised her hands. "Calm. That's a nice dragon." The creature blinked slowly, its eyes slightly dazed; her mouth felt dry. "You're getting very sleepy, aren't you? That's a good girl. Close your eyes."
The creature swayed, its large head drooping toward the waves. A sailor sucked in a breath.
"Holy gods." The man's voice was awed. "What's she doing to it?"
Penny took a step closer. Her heart was slamming against her ribs, so hard that it was almost painful. She almost had it. She could feel it.
"Sink back into the waves." Her voice was melodic. "A little nap sounds nice, doesn't it? Just let go. Let—"
The ship rocked. Penny's foot snagged on a rope.
She stumbled backward, half-colliding with a barrel. The connection snapped. The sea dragon roared. She could feel the creature's anger flooding back, sharp and painful as a whipcrack. The dragon knew it had been tricked.
No, Penny realized, her mouth going dry; the dragon knew that she had tricked it.
She sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh, sh—"
The creature lunged.
Penny rolled aside. The sea dragon darted forward, its teeth grazing her leg. She scrambled backward on her hands, her heart in her throat. Shit. She was going to die on this ship. She had royally pissed off a sea monster, and now she was going to—
A figure sliced through the air.
Grayson. That was Grayson, Penny realized; he must have jumped from a mast. He landed on the sea monster, raising his blade. The creature roared. Penny cried out a warning, but Grayson was already swinging, his face twisted with a vengeful fury.
The blade sliced through the creature's neck.
The sea dragon's eyes turned dull. Penny scrambled across the deck, clinging to the railing as the large body sunk into the sea. Grayson. Where was Grayson? Relief flooded her as she spotted him climbing a railing, shivering and soaked.
Thank gods.
"Grayson!" She raced toward him. "Are you—?"
"What were you thinking?"
Grayson's face was filled with blazing fury. Her steps faltered.
"I had it under control," Penny said.
His mouth was a white line. "You could have been killed!"
She crossed her arms. "My plan would have worked."
Grayson's laugh was humourless. "Nobody can control a sea dragon." He shoved damp blond hair out of his eyes. "They're too powerful. Which I could have told you, if you'd stopped to listen."
A sour taste filled her mouth. Her relief was giving way to something else, and it took her a moment to identify it.
Humiliation.
She raised her chin higher. "I was almost there."
Grayson's face was granite. "Of all the reckless, stupid—"
"Port!" A sailor's cry split the air. "Ready for port!"
The boat careened toward the dock. Men scrambled across the deck, knotting ropes and adjusting sails. One mast was still missing, Penny noted, although nobody looked overly concerned. Perhaps it seemed inoffensive, after almost being devoured by a sea dragon.
She spotted Maribel crouched by the injured sailor with a cup of tea. The storm was letting up now, petering off into gentle rain. The boat crept slowly into port.
"Don't do that again," Grayson said. "Promise me."
Something hollow bloomed in her chest. "Do you really have so little faith in me?"
Grayson's face softened. "You're one of the most powerful Dayweavers I know, Penny. I would trust you with my life. But there's more to being a warrior." He shifted his sword. "A good soldier is brave; a great soldier knows his limitations."
"I thought..." She nibbled her lip. "I hoped I could handle it."
"You'll get there," Grayson said.
The boat pulled up alongside the wooden dock. Men hopped off, carrying armfuls of rope. Grayson shrugged on a fur coat. He wasn't shivering, Penny noted, although his hands were bone white. She didn't blame him; the North Sea must have been bracing.
"How far is it to Bardan?" she asked.
Grayson thought. "Six days. Maybe seven, depending on the roads."
Penny scanned the shore. "There's so much snow."
And there really was. Penny wasn't sure if she'd ever seen this much snow; there was miles and miles of it, as if someone had swaddled the earth with a white blanket. Snow dusted Flurry Tower and streamed off the back of black carriages; it littered the pale beach, winking like winter stars.
Grayson raised an eyebrow. "You've never been to Lox?"
Penny shook her head. "Is the whole empire so..." She cast about for the right word. "Frozen?"
Grayson looked like he wanted to smile. "You'll get used to it."
He started for the gang plank, offering Penny a hand. His skin felt cold and coarse under her skin. Penny hesitated.
"Grayson." She held his gaze. "You said that you know Emperor Halson."
His eyes turned wary. "Yes."
"But you don't like him," Penny surmised.
"No."
She bit her lip. "Is he like Orin?"
"No," Grayson said. "He's far worse."
Grayson helped her across the plank. Penny paused, watching as he leapt on to the docks. "Will Halson help us? To find God-Slayer, I mean?"
"I doubt it," Grayson said. "But there's somebody at the palace that might." He began walking. "Somebody that could be sympathetic to our cause."
Penny fell into step. "And who's that?"
"His future wife."
Penny frowned. "I wasn't aware that Halson was engaged."
Grayson glanced back, ensuring that Maribel was safely on the docks. Then he turned for the carriages. "He's not."
Wariness filled her. "I don't understand."
Grayson raised an eyebrow. "Did your tutor never teach you about the Loxian royal family?"
"Yes." Penny paused. "I mean, no." She gave him a slightly sheepish look. "I can't recall. I wasn't exactly the best student."
Grayson smiled; it was a genuine, ear-splitting smile, the sort that Penny hadn't seen in several weeks. Something warm curled in her chest. "Indeed. I seem to recall you staring at me through the window during your lessons."
She nudged him. "Shut-up."
To her surprise, Grayson grabbed her arm, tucking it through his. "When a Loxian emperor is ready to take a wife, he ascends the Celestial Mountain to ask Lestia for guidance." He paused. "You do know who Lestia is, don't you?"
"The Goddess of Frost." Penny gave him a disgruntled look. "I did pay some attention in class, you know."
Grayson's smile grew. "Just checking. Anyways, Lestia has three days and three nights to select the young woman with the worthiest heart in the empire. The goddess steals into her bedchambers and kisses her forehead, leaving a glowing mark behind. That's how the empress is chosen."
Penny looked up at him. "Does the young woman get a say?"
Grayson's arm stiffened. "Theoretically? Yes. In practice..." His gaze was fixed on the carriages. "Usually not. Anyway, my sources say that Halson ascended the mountain last night. He'll have a bride within the week."
They paused beside the carriages. Penny looked up at Grayson. He was so familiar to her now, she thought; she could have drawn him in her sleep. The blue eyes that turned molten gold at the centre. The freckles near his ear. The small scar under his chin. She knew the map of his body just as well as she knew her own.
Funny how that happened.
Penny exhaled. "And you think the new empress will be sympathetic to our cause? That she'll help us find God-Slayer?"
"No." Grayson's blue eyes were solemn. "But I think she's the best chance we have."