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’m not sure when things changed. There was no finite point where fear began to outweigh anger, no single loss that tipped me over into the shadow I am today.
I have people on most of the Cŵn Annwn ships at this point, reporting on their movements and bringing others into the fold. Most of the crew members aren’t local to Threshold. As the hub realm between all realms, we get more than our fair share of people and creatures who take a wrong turn, step into the wrong spot, and tumble from their realm and into ours.
The rebellion does their best to see these people home instead of into the hands of the Cŵn Annwn.
If the Cŵn Annwn finds them? Well, they are given a choice: join the crew or die. It’s the most efficient way they have of bolstering their numbers to continue to “protect” Threshold from monsters. Some of those refugees take to the murderous intent of the Cŵn Annwn naturally and embrace everything that’s toxic and awful about them. Most don’t. They’re trapped and doing what it takes to survive.
I don’t realize Lizzie is waiting for me until the vampire shifts from her position leaning against the railing. She’s a fit woman with moon-pale skin, long dark hair, and eyes that flash crimson when she’s irritated. She also doesn’t believe in this cause. She’s only here for her woman, Maeve. Up until recently, Maeve was just like hundreds of other locals who form a network of information that spans the realm. People who believe in a better world without the Cŵn Annwn’s boots on their necks.
There’s nowhere else to go for now, so I cross to the vampire and take up a position against the railing. “I’m surprised you’re not belowdecks with Maeve.”
“She’s resting. Apparently my presence is not restful.” Her lips shift into something that’s almost a smile as she says it. They’re two people who couldn’t be more different—the soft and shiny Maeve, the violent and vicious Lizzie—but even I can’t deny that the connection between them is real. She motions to the door to Nox’s cabin. “Things didn’t go well.”
“ ‘Well’ is a matter of opinion.” I shrug. In our handful of days together, I’ve learned to respect Lizzie’s frankness, even if I find it irritating.
“Told you.” Lizzie looks away, her brows drawing together at the sight of the seemingly endless sea, not a spec of land in sight. “As I said before, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Maeve safe, even if we have to murder our way through the entirety of the Cŵn Annwn. I would appreciate an actual plan, though.” She shudders delicately. “One that doesn’t involve going into the water.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” I survey the clear blue sky, not a cloud in sight. The Audacity has a handful of both water- and air-users, which means there’s no risk of the ship ever being becalmed. The sails fill even as I watch, the gentle breeze coaxed into a strong wind by the two air-users on the upper deck.
The ship jerks beneath our feet and Lizzie goes a little green. “I’m going to check on Maeve.”
I roll my shoulders and settle down against the railing to watch the crew. I’ve been on my own for a long time—and not only because everyone back in Lyari thinks I’m dead. When you’re the mind behind an entire movement, anyone you spend time with will become a target alongside you. The only exception was Bastian, and look how that turned out. Our fight has to be the reason he was reckless enough to draw the attention of the Cŵn Annwn.
The first hard thing is done. Nox has agreed to help retrieve Bastian. There’s still half a dozen difficult tasks remaining, but they can wait the few days it will take us to reach the sandbar that stretches from Ganabie to Exver, creating an impassable barrier to all but the shallowest hulls.
Later, I’ll sit Nox down and come up with a plan.
For now, I’ll let them stew and let the vampire and selkie rest.
Chapter 4
Bastian
Up until a few weeks ago, the closest I’d gotten to a cell was reading about them in books. Now I’m in my third of the week. First in Mairi on Second Sister, where I made the mistake of letting my glamour slip in a fit of rage to protect a woman being harassed by two members of the Cŵn Annwn. Then in the relatively nice and clean brig of the Crimson Hag. Now in the significantly less nice and less clean brig of the Bone Heart.
I’m practically an expert at this point.
“Be a good chap and pass me that water,” I say. Or at least I try to say. My gag makes the words a garbled mess. I’m not even certain the guard is there. I can’t see due to the blindfold tight around the upper part of my face. My hands have long since lost sensation after being tied behind my back.