“I see,” Kearan says quietly, his voice growing dark.
“I don’t. As I said, if he were smart, he would know that you have no interest in me. He would know that we are nothing more to each other than captain and crewman. He would leave you entirely out of this horrid obsession he has with me.” I laugh once without humor. “He wanted me to break your spirit. Your heart. But I’m telling you plainly, because there is no need for such deterrents. First of all, because no man controls who or what I pursue. Secondly, because—”
“I have no interest in you,” Kearan deadpans.
“Precisely.”
A silence falls between us, one that seems to hold millions of words unsaid. Kearan’s eyes never leave my face, and his face never changes. I can’t tell if he’s angry beyond words or shocked? Indifferent? He’s giving me nothing. He’s always been such a mystery.
“Will you please agree to it?” I ask.
“Agree to what?”
“I have told you his terms. Now you must agree to them. For the undead listening in the trees. Do you agree that you will not pursue anything with me and that I am nothing more to you than your captain?”
At that, his eyes draw into slivers. He leans down so that there is only a breath of space between us.
“There is no way in hell I am agreeing to that.”
My eyes widen, and I find my hand going to my sword hilt for comfort. For comfort, or because I worry any nearby undead may start attacking him if they managed to catch his words?
“Why not?” I ask, anger seeping into my voice, but I keep my tone at a whisper to match his.
“Because no man, immortal or not, tells me what to do. I only take orders from one person, and she’s standing right in front of me.”
“And should I order you to agree to his terms?”
“Can’t, Captain. I made you a promise that I would never lie to you.”
I try to swallow, but my mouth has gone dry. Does he mean—
What does he mean?
“Then don’t lie to me,” I find myself whispering. “Lie to him. Right now for all the undead to hear.”
Kearan’s head tilts slightly, and I lose my breath when his eyes dip down to my lips.
He blinks once, slowly. Before stepping back and laughing.
“Aye, Captain,” he says loudly. “I’ll be keeping these hands to myself. Just as I’ve always intended. You just do the same so this fool doesn’t come after me, aye?”
I glare at him to make the ruse more believable. “That won’t be a problem.”
“Thought not.” He scoffs dramatically before walking back toward camp.
I stare after him, taking in the shape of his strong shoulders, which are bunched tighter than I’ve ever seen them. He walks with a slight hunch, as though he feels defeated, but his steps never waver.
What. Just. Happened?
And what does it mean?
Chapter 20
AS I STAGGER BACK into camp, I can’t look away from Kearan. He retrieves the wood he dropped, places it near the closest fire, and brushes wood chips from his gloves and clothes. He lays the ax to the side methodically, as though he’s being extra careful with his movements. As if he knows I’m watching him.
And not just me.
But Threydan, too, through the eyes of the undead.
After a moment of stillness, Kearan takes off toward the other end of camp.
“Kearan?” Enwen asks. “What’s wrong?”
Kearan doesn’t answer as he leaves, barreling into the woods and out of sight. Enwen follows after him, calling his name as he goes.
Is he angry? Is he angry with me?
What is happening?
I’m torn between following and staying right where I am. I want to follow, to demand answers of him, but if Threydan is watching, that is the last thing I should do.
I try to distract myself by focusing on what’s in front of me. The girls are integrating with the crew of the Wanderer, getting to know them.
Shura hugs Visylla. They must have known each other before, and the two are immediately swept into conversation. Dimella tries to get a word out of Captain Warran, but he won’t even look at her. He stands by another one of the fires to warm his hands, glowering at anyone who dares come near.
“Captain Warran, you will be civil to my crew, or I will ensure that you remain on this island forever,” I snap, showing a burst of anger that is uncommon for me. “Is that understood?”
His eyes land on me, and something he sees there has his posture relaxing. “Aye, Captain.”
“Good.”
Now where did Roslyn go off to? I need someone who isn’t confusing as hell to be around.
I RISE IN THE wee hours of dawn, having gone to bed supremely early. I gather snow into a pot and set it by one of the fires. Once it’s melted, I wash myself as best I can with a rag and don fresh clothes. I stay close to the flames, watching them flicker. I may not feel the heat or cold, but I have no interest in letting my wet hair freeze to my skin again. I keep my damp locks positioned near the fire while I wait for everyone else to wake.
I need to have a plan ready for them. My return, as well as the presence of the missing crew we were sent to find, has bolstered their spirits. But my victories feel … cheapened.
For it wasn’t me who found Alosa’s crew. Threydan did with his undead. He only handed them over to me because he wants something from me. It was a show of good faith. Something that he can retract at any moment with his hordes of undead. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was in the process of growing his numbers by causing fights with the Drifta. What else has he to occupy himself with in that lonely stone house? Thoughts of revenge do not keep a body idle. They demand movement. Preparation. I well know this.
We need to leave before we’re even more outnumbered. Otherwise, we won’t last until Alosa arrives. Not without me agreeing to Threydan’s terms. And if Alosa arrives, some of her pirates will surely die and join the undead before we manage to put Threydan back to sleep. Her voice alone will not be enough. She is but half siren. We need a full siren to keep him asleep for a significant amount of time. She will have to call on aid from her mother, and who knows how long that will take?
I cannot allow us to wait. It is not enough to constantly move camp and do nothing. Besides, we cannot stay hidden long. Not with hundreds of undead able to scour the wilderness without need of food or rest. Threydan will catch me.
Yet what other choice do we have? We have no ship. A large crew. Angry Drifta. Untiring undead. And one immortal man with powers over life and death.
I feel so small. So … insufficient.
And then I remember—
At the barest sound of movement behind me, I turn, expecting the worst.
And it is the worst. Kearan stomps into camp. He makes it clear to the fire I’m occupying before he notices me. Normally, I swear he senses me, but he is clearly distracted right now.
“Were you out all night?” I ask him.
“Aye.”
“Where’s Enwen?”
“He turned in with everyone else. I wanted time alone.”