Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 93948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
I shut myself away in my cabin and barely take the time to shower before collapsing face-first into my bed. I’ve never had a problem with sleeping, but this evening it eludes me despite my best efforts. I can’t help thinking about Siobhan, about the tension between us. It’s always been there, unacknowledged, but if I’ve been a fool in love before, I have no intention of being one again. Or at least I didn’t. Falling for the leader of a secret rebellion whom I can see only once every season or so is a recipe for a broken heart, and so I refused to allow myself to even dream.
But now she’s on my ship. And somehow the flawed, human version of Siobhan is even more attractive than the caricature of her that I had put on a pedestal. She’s not perfect, and that’s fucking irresistible to me.
And, if I’m being honest with myself, with not a single person to witness except the shadows of my room, I can admit that the feelings for Bastian haven’t dissipated. It feels particularly pathetic to be pining after a man who left me in the dust so long ago. But if my perception of Siobhan has changed, I can’t quite ignore that my perception of Bastian is in danger of shifting as well.
At eighteen, at twenty-one, he was reckless to a fault. It thrilled me even as I feared for him, and when you’re that age, fear and thrill are practically the same thing. Now, though? Now he’s grown up. I don’t know why that surprises me. I’m hardly the same person I was all those years ago. But the Bastian in my head was caught outside of time, unable to change or evolve or grow up. Even though I’ve been avoiding him since he came aboard, I can’t ignore the fact that he has changed. And I don’t know what to do with that.
I’m still mulling over the problem as I slip into sleep’s sweet embrace.
Only to be woken what feels like fifteen seconds later by Poet’s tense voice. “Captain, we need you.” She doesn’t say anything else, but she doesn’t need to. There’s no point in wasting breath when we have a wealth of shared experience between us. There’s only one reason for her to have woken me up.
Trouble.
As soon as Poet opens the door, yells from the crew reach my ears. It’s hard to parse the specific words, but I don’t need to. We’re in danger. I barely pause to pull on a long tunic that covers me from neck to mid-thigh before I rush out of my cabin to find out what all the fuss is about.
I find Poet with Eyal at the helm, him gripping the wheel with white knuckles, his expression tense and carefully blank. “Report,” I say as I come to stand next to them.
Poet doesn’t take her eyes from the horizon. “Crimson sails spotted. Three of them.”
I turn to look, even knowing I won’t see anything. My eyesight is better than most, but it can’t compare to a shifter’s or some of the other magical people we have aboard. “Damn it. I thought we’d have more time before Morrigan found us.”
“Not Morrigan.” Eyal shakes his head. “They’re coming from the wrong direction. From the east instead of behind us.”
The east, which is the horizon before us. Fuck. By my count, we still have another day or so before it’s safe to turn north and follow the line of islands that create the trading path across Threshold. I had no intention of following that path closely, but turn too soon and we’re at the mercy of the storms that rage through the northwestern part of the realm this time of year. With a fully rested crew, I might be willing to take my chances, but we’re all operating on the edge of exhaustion. A storm could very well kill us.
The Cŵn Annwn will kill us even faster, though.
“Fuck.” I scrub my hands over my face, trying to think of a different option. There’s none. Turning to the south takes us away from our goal, and at this point time is of the essence. Obviously Morrigan reported to the Council at least some of what happened when we took Bastian back. It is a testament to my reputation—and that of my crew—that they’ve sent an additional three ships to bring us down. If this trio fails, no doubt the Council will send the entire fleet, or near enough to it. We can’t afford to waste any time.
I rotate to stare north, as if that would tell me our chances. I must have slept quite a while because the first fingers of dawn are lightening the sky, chasing away the stars. There’s a clear sky, calm seas. That should reassure me, but it only reinforces my suspicion that things are about to go horribly wrong.