Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
If I feel pity for them, I remind myself that I have more responsibility to the citizens of Threshold than I do to some creature who’s lost its way. There’s no good method of returning it to the realm where it came from, and even if there were, that’s not what the Cŵn Annwn do. We hunt. We kill. End of story. It weighs on me, but I owe everything to them.
These thoughts do me no good. There’s no problem to solve here, for all that Evelyn would have me believe there is. She’s working an angle, and I have to remember that.
And I do … right up until I see Kit stride back onto deck. I motion nem over, even though I have no good reason to do so. Ne knows it, too. Kit grins and ambles over. “What’s up, Captain?”
I’m in danger of making a fool of myself, and I can’t seem to stop. “Did she get the clothing okay?”
If anything, Kit’s grin widens. “Of course. She oohed and aahed over all the pretties. I made sure to tell her to give her thanks to you, not anyone else.” Before I can come up with a response to that, ne gives me a finger wave and heads toward the stern.
I didn’t give her clothes so that she’d have a reason to seek me out or thank me. And yet I’m looking forward to being in her presence again all the same. I can’t get the memory of her in my arms out of my head. Her absence over the last twenty-four hours should’ve been enough to banish the worst of it, but it’s not the case. If anything, I crave her more.
This is a problem.
I’ll just add it to the list.
CHAPTER 14
Evelyn
I CAN’T HIDE FOREVER. WHEN MILES FIRST ASSIGNED ME TO the kitchen, I resented it, but it’s honestly been a nice reprieve from … everything. I have some experience with brownies, so I don’t step on their toes the way some of the rest of the crew does. In return, I don’t have to do the hard labor that comes from working on deck or worry about dealing with the quartermaster, who obviously hates me. I tell myself that it’s worth the exchange.
But I can’t help missing Bowen.
It’s ridiculous to miss the man who’s my captor, who’s aggravating in the extreme because of his unwillingness to bend. But after three days, I find myself back on deck, pulled there by the excitement of the crew as we near our destination. I stay out of the way as best I can, and make a careful path to the railing.
Overhead, the skies are clear of clouds and painted a blue that’s almost unreal. It reminds me of summer days back home, and longing hits me so hard, I actually flinch. It’s so strange that I can be in this magical place and yet the sky looks so familiar. Brilliant and blue and absolutely endless. I try to appreciate the fact that I’m in Threshold, but it’s hard to be positive these days when I feel so conflicted.
Our destination lies in front of us, an island that is significantly larger than the last one. It curves out to the east—or at least I think it’s the east—and then back around out of sight. There doesn’t seem to be any place to access from this direction; the whole coast is high cliffs that remind me of the pictures I’ve seen of Ireland. Except these ones aren’t white. They are a magnificent green shot through with blue and gold and silver, so bright they take my breath away. The metallics catch the light as we sail northwest.
“You want to be belowdecks for what comes next.”
I jolt and turn to find my roommate, Lucky, standing next to me. I didn’t even hear them approach. For the first time in our acquaintance, a small smile curves the edges of their lipless mouth. It’s hardly any expression at all, but on them it’s practically a shout of joy.
“What do you mean?”
“Here there be monsters.” They let out a harsh laugh. “It’s no place for people like you.” They press one hand to the railing and hoist themselves over.
It happens so fast, I’m left standing there with my mouth open as they plummet to the water and sink beneath the surface. I spin, ready to shout that there’s a person overboard, but Kit hurries up, nir face in hard lines. “You shouldn’t be out here, Evelyn.”
“So everyone keeps saying.” I lean over the railing, but Lucky is nowhere to be seen. “They just—”
“I know.” Kit takes my arm and turns me away from the railing. “They’re our scout. Lucky’s half mermaid, which means they don’t ping magical systems the same way a probe would—or run the risk of drowning. They’re fine. But you won’t be. We don’t know quite what we’re up against, and the captain would have my head if something happens to you.”