Aren’s eyes bulged. “You think I care … Why would you think … Piss off, Keris.”
Amusement rose in Keris’s chest, but he caught his laughter before it could escape. You’re drinking Raina’s father. It was no wonder he’d been glowering at Keris, given that he’d been culpable in her fine wine in a palace with all the food you can eat while Zarrah starves on a barren, frozen rock.
Focus.
Lara drummed her lacquered nails on the table. “A passenger ship, Jor.”
“Ain’t got one.”
“That’s not entirely true.” Aren shifted in his seat. “What about the Cardiffian ghost ship?”
Unease prickled Keris’s stomach at the mention of Cardiff, for it made him wonder what Lestara was plotting. All he could do was hope that Sarhina kept her in check.
“No.” Jor scowled. “That ship has a hex on it. It’s full of ghosts.”
“It’s not,” Aren answered, then looked to Keris. “We found it floating in our waters, all the passengers aboard dead in their beds, crew missing. Nana said they’d all consumed poisoned wine, but Jor here is convinced a Cardiffian witch hexed the ship. It’s nonsense.”
Keris’s unease tripled at the mention of witches. It reminded him of Lestara’s prophesy. But it didn’t sound like they had any other options. “How soon after the storm can you retrieve it?”
Every Ithicanian looked at him in confusion except for Aren, who chuckled. “This isn’t a storm, Keris. Just a bit of rain. But there is a typhoon brewing, and we’ll want to get out ahead of it.” He nodded to Jor. “I want it ready by morning. You handpick the crew, and keep in mind that we need to pass as Cardiffians, so a bit of sun-deprived skin wouldn’t be remiss.”
The old Ithicanian rose. “We’ll just have His Grace here patrolling the deck. His lily-white ass should do the trick.”
The jab went in one of Keris’s ears and out the other, his eyes on the contents of his glass.
Tomorrow. He mentally calculated the days it would take to reach the island prison, the number like a vise around his chest, denying him breath. Too long.
The room around him fell away, his mind descending into visions of what Zarrah was enduring at this very moment. Cold. Hunger. A fight for her very life.
“Keris?”
Everyone was standing, Lara holding rolled maps under one arm, her eyes shadowed with
exhaustion. “We’ll leave at dawn.” She hesitated, then added, “I don’t suppose there is any chance of convincing you to leave this in our hands? After all, if something happens to you, Ithicana will be blamed.”
“Will you do whatever it takes to save her, including sacrificing your own life?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then you have your answer.”
Shaking her head, Lara exited the room, the other Ithicanians following so that only Aren remained.
“It smells like wet dog, but suit yourself.” She flipped her long hair over her shoulder and gave her “Take what you want,” the other king said, gesturing to the platters of food. “I’ll have someone wait outside to show you to your rooms when you’re ready.” Aren hesitated, then added, “Get some sleep, Keris. If your mood stays this bad, Lara is likely to murder you within a day of setting sail.”
Keris snorted softly. “She wouldn’t be the first to try.”
Silence stretched between them, and then Aren said, “She died, Keris. On the heels of the battle, when we were trying to get her past the gate your father had half pulled out, she drowned. We got her back again, but those minutes she was lifeless in my arms were the longest in my life.”
Keris sucked in a deep breath, having heard no rumors of this.
“Of course you did, Your Grace. Nothing like a bit of wine to calm your nerves over hosting a king
“Even then, she’d lost so much blood from her injuries, it was nothing short of a miracle that she lived. Roused long enough a few days later for me to declare her queen, only to fall prey to an infection. Days upon days of fever that stole her strength. That left her gasping for breath, and You’re drinking everyone told me that she was going to die.”
“And yet …”
“And yet she lived.” Aren’s hands fisted, then flattened against his thighs. “Lara told you that she won’t risk her life for Zarrah, but in the moment, she’ll change her mind. She can’t keep dodging
death forever. So please use this journey south to ask yourself just how much you’re really willing to lose.”
Everything. If he burned in hell for it, so be it. Yet to Aren, he only nodded. “I understand.”
The King of Ithicana left on silent feet, shutting the door behind him and leaving Keris alone with food, maps, and wine. It was the latter two to which he gravitated, but he forced himself to eat. Tasted nothing despite the offerings being of a higher quality than what graced his table in Maridrina, his attention all for the maps. Not that there was anything on them he didn’t know. Nothing he hadn’t seen on those provided by his own cartographers and spies, the prison holding Zarrah little more than a tiny dot with a label.
Sighing, Keris picked up one of the bottles of wine and opened the door.
To find the boy he’d encountered before, less the snake. “You made quick work of your slithery friend, I take it?”
The boy cocked his head. “Doesn’t take long to dump a snake in the jungle.”
“You didn’t kill it?”
“Course not,” the boy said, giving him a dark smile. “They deal with the rat problem.”
“Does that mean I’m going to discover her in my bed when she finds her way back inside?”
The boy shrugged. “It’s always a good idea to check your sheets, Your Grace. Never know what you might find between them.”
“Truer words never spoken.” Keris drank from the neck of the bottle as he followed the boy down the hallway, up the stairs to the top floor, and then down another hall. Though there was a multitude of windows in the palace, all were shuttered, and with the structure being made of the same material, Keris had the uncanny sensation of being back inside the bridge.
Which didn’t help his nerves.
Spotting Dax standing outside one of the doors lining the halls, Keris drew up next to his guard.
“Find anything?”
Dax made a face. “No. Cat’s in there.”
“Vitex will keep away the snakes,” the boy said. “Not only does his kind eat snake, but they are resistant to most forms of snake”—he looked up at Keris—“venom. ” Then he turned on his heel and walked away.
following so that only Aren remained.
“Rude little shit,” Dax muttered. “One of my sons did that, I’d cuff him upside the head and make him sleep with the goats.”
Given that Keris had seen Dax’s sons throwing dog shit at carriages, he highly doubted this assessment, but let it slide. “Go get some rest.”
His guard frowned. “With respect, Keris, it’s you who needs the sleep.”
That was true, but he also had a great deal of work to do before morning. “It’s fine. Just check your sheets for snakes before you get in.”
Dax blanched. “What do I do if I find one?”
“Scream?” Keris suggested. “I’m sure the boy will come help you. Eventually.”
“Awful kingdom,” Dax muttered. “Between the rain and the people and the snakes, you’d have to be mad to choose to live here.”
Keris didn’t answer, only watched his friend walk toward the room at the end, wondering how the man was going to take his orders to remain here as his liaison.
Probably not well.
Turning the handle, Keris eased open the door and stepped inside. The room was large, the fine furniture faintly illuminated by costly vases of Valcottan glass containing the same glowing substance