I don’t know what it says about this Lizzie that Evelyn went through a portal, ended up in the space between realms, and was attacked while still barely conscious, and yet none of that caused the same amount of fear she’s exhibiting right now. It makes me want to reach across the table and take her hand. To comfort her. To promise I will stand between her and whatever danger this Lizzie presents.
The impulse is so strong I almost talk myself out of it on instinct. But I’m the captain, aren’t I? It’s my responsibility to see to the well-being of my crew, and that includes their emotional well-being. That logic feels flimsy as fuck, but I move before I can think too hard about it.
I reach across the table and take her hand. Little tremors work through her fingers. It makes my chest feel funny. “You have nothing to worry about. Threshold is vast, and despite all we’ve talked about with people wandering here by accident, it truly doesn’t happen as often as you’d expect. Portal travel is usually confined to whatever realm the portals themselves exist in. Even in Threshold, our portals to the network of realms are limited to the islands. One portal for one island, and while they’re stationary here, they aren’t in their home realms. It’s all but impossible to come here on purpose. It defies probability to believe she could follow you, powerful vampire or no.”
“If you believe that then you don’t know Lizzie.”
I squeeze her hand. “Even if you’re right and she somehow manages to defy the odds to track you down, you’re part of the C?n Annwn and the Crimson Hag’s crew now. This whole crew, including myself, will stand between you and any threat that arises.”
Evelyn stares at our joined hands for several beats. When she lifts her gaze to mine, she doesn’t look particularly reassured. “While I appreciate the attempt at comfort, if Lizzie comes here, we’re all fucked.”
CHAPTER 8
Evelyn
I DON’T KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING CASUALLY EXPLORING the ship earlier. I should’ve been thinking about Lizzie. I should’ve been thinking about the fact that there’s no way she had only a single portal in her house, no matter how difficult Bowen claims it is to get to Threshold. She has another way here; I’m sure of it.
I look around Bowen’s cabin again, this time with an eye for a map. No matter how magical a realm, no matter how often things move within its boundaries, there’s always a map that can guide the way. Or at least there normally is. I don’t see anything of the sort. “How do you navigate?”
He gives me a long look. “If you’re thinking of escaping, I will remind you yet again that it’s an impossible task. Even if you could find your way to one of the islands that contain the portals out to the various realms, a full half of them are actively hostile to humans. Even down to the air, Evelyn. I realize you didn’t choose this life, but surely it’s better than dying.”
Of course it’s better than dying. But being free is significantly better than being actively conscripted into what is starting to feel like a cult. “Look, I won’t pretend I’m not considering escaping, but that’s not why I’m asking.”
“Lizzie.” The derisive way he says her name irks me. He’s dismissing a threat he really shouldn’t.
“Yes, Lizzie. This is serious, Bowen.”
He studies me for a long moment, and I hate that I can’t quite cover up my fear. At least it’s useful in this moment. His dark eyes go soft and he sighs. “Very well. Come here.” He pushes to his feet.
The sheer size of him is so damned distracting. No one should be that big. It’s rude, honestly. I almost smile before I remember why we’re having this conversation, and then my fear comes rushing back. It doesn’t matter what he says, but all information is worth having, so I rise and follow him over to the desk I clocked when I was in here earlier.
It was dark while we ate, but when Bowen waves his hand over it, the surface flares to life. It must be keyed to him. Bright colors swirl, finally settling into what appears to be a map. It’s mostly blue with islands scattered throughout, some in black and some in purple.
I point to one of the purple ones. “Why is this different?”
“Not all the islands are stationary. Some migrate in regular patterns. Some blip in and out of existence on their own schedule. Tracking them isn’t a perfect science, but we do the best we can. Right now, a full half aren’t present because of various factors of time and season and their own internal schedule.”
I study it further, grateful to have something to focus on that isn’t what I’m running from—who I’m running from. I try to count them, but am instantly overwhelmed. “There are so many.” And each represents a realm just as large and diverse as the one I grew up in. The thought staggers me. I knew the universe was big enough to be unknowable, but the proof in front of me makes my head spin. “Wow.”
“You see,” Bowen says gently. “This is why I’m not concerned about a threat a single vampire poses. It’s no easy task to navigate Threshold, even if she were to somehow make it here.”
I’m not totally reassured, but maybe he has a point. “If you say so.”
“This is also why the C?n Annwn are necessary. This map represents the people who live in Threshold, yes, but it also represents lives beyond number. Allowing predators to use Threshold to slip in and out of other realms is out of the question.”
I don’t want to agree with him at all, even on this, but there are reasons we have some pretty horrific legends about monsters in my realm. And I’m not talking about the so-called monsters that are vampires or shifters or, yes, witches. I’m talking about the ones that destroy cities to get their preferred prey of choice. There’s a reason so many legends about dragons exist, and that quite a few of them have rumors of virgin sacrifices attached.
Not even the hunters in my realm would be able to take down a dragon.
Even so, it’s hard to blame a dragon for ensuring that it feeds itself when it’s been stranded in a strange realm. What is it supposed to do? Die? That’s ridiculous. Surely there’s an answer that doesn’t involve killing it. I don’t have one readily available, though, and I doubt Bowen will appreciate me questioning his beloved C?n Annwn further. He’s feeling sympathetic toward me now, and I’ll admit to being wowed by the map, so might as well try to foster some goodwill, right?
“So what’s your story?” Even as I ask the question, I tell myself I’m only doing it to get more information to leverage in my aim for freedom. It’s not because I’m actually curious. This pirate might be sexy in a kind of rugged way, but he’s rigid and unbending while I’m as fickle as the wind.
He’s also standing between me and my freedom, which makes him the enemy.