Fireblood (Frostblood Saga #2)(31)
I tried to maintain my skepticism, but it was hard. I suddenly wanted to meet the queen more than anything. “How do you even know her?”
He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “My parents are… I suppose in Tempesian, the closest words are ‘prince’ and ‘princess.’”
“You’re related to the queen?”
“No, it’s not like that. Each island is a principality, though the queen rules above all. My father is the prince of a small island.”
“So why did she send you?”
“Because I’ve sailed the Vast Sea, I speak excellent Tempesian, and I have experience handling conflicts with Frostblood ships.”
“I wasn’t aware we were officially at war with Sudesia,” I said doubtfully.
“We aren’t. The conflicts have been more… opportunistic in nature. Merchant ships on their way back from the Coral Isles that were too heavy with cargo for their own good. I did them the favor of lightening their loads.”
My mouth fell open. “You’re a pirate!”
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “It’s not piracy if it’s sanctioned by one’s own queen. ‘Privateer’ is the correct term, but I prefer to think of it as commerce. Unfortunately, the Tempesian navy has caught on and has made things rather difficult lately. All the merchant ships are heavily guarded now.”
“Have you killed people?” I asked, trying to decide what I thought about this revelation. “If they resist?”
“Tempesian captains are surprisingly cooperative when their ships are threatened with fire.” He moved to the door. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow I’ll have one of my crew start teaching you Sudesian. It’s time for you to learn your native tongue.”
If he hadn’t sounded so condescending, I would have admitted I’d been learning Sudesian for weeks with Brother Thistle. As it was, his tone put me on the defensive. “My native tongue is Tempesian.”
He made a clicking sound of disappointment. “A Fireblood who speaks Tempesian is like a barking cat. A curiosity and perhaps rather amusing, but somewhat ridiculous.”
“You’re speaking Tempesian right now.” I gave him a sweet smile.
“But like so many things, I do it exceptionally well.” He eyed me with a suggestively raised brow. “Good night, little bird.”
The world was tilting.
Dipping and rising and twisting in every direction.
And I was sliding off.
I grabbed at tufts of grass, my fingers burning as I tried desperately to hang on. Then the land froze under my palms, flat and smooth—merciless perfection without a single flaw or crack to hold on to. Above me, a velvet black sky.
Then the darkness of the sky shaped itself, forming pointed shoulders and a wickedly sharp crown. Shadow arms spread out to the sides, as if the night itself stood ready to embrace me—or devour me. I scrabbled at the icy ground until my fingers bled, which made the surface slicker, my slide faster. I could only watch as the world rose up and crashed down, the ground heaving to tip me right into the gaping maw of the monster.
A voice called my name. The scene in my mind faded as warm arms slid around my waist. Rain drove into my back like a thousand freezing needles. I opened my eyes and rubbed away the streaming rain. I was leaning over a railing while green-black water churned below.
It took a moment for my mind to clear. I’d been dreaming. Somehow I’d found my way on deck. And it had seemed as if I’d been about to throw myself over the side. I shivered violently.
Kai yanked me away from the railing as the whole world shook like a rattle in an infant’s furious grip, everything creaking and groaning in protest. Another violent heave sent us both sliding along the main deck.
Bursts of lightning crawled across a midnight-blue sky befouled by a haze of sickly green at the horizon. The sails were furled but for one that juddered in the wind.
The ship rode up the incline of a wave in a long, ponderous slide, then perched atop the crest for a brief eternity before tipping over the edge, careening nose down to plow into the trough. I screamed as a mountain of water crashed over the bow and sluiced the deck, slamming into us so hard we hit the side of a raised deck. If not for that barrier, the water would have taken us with it as it swept over the edge.
As I wiped my streaming eyes, I saw that Kai held a rope in one hand, which I let him tie around my waist, his fingers slipping on the wet strands. He finished just in time for another slam of our bow into another nightmarish trough, another sweep of choking green water.
“Jaro looks tired. I need to take the helm!” Kai said before disappearing up the steps.
I turned to watch him approach the sailor who held the wheel. Lightning illuminated Kai as he relieved Jaro, his sodden white shirt glowing, his hair slicked against his skull and gleaming like polished mahogany, his normally bronzed skin bleached of color. The wheel bucked in his hands like a prize bull as we reached the crest of another wave. The lean muscles of his arms strained to keep it under control.
Another dive, another sluicing, another climb, and the older sailor who had been at the wheel appeared next to me. He had a broad face and thinning black hair sprinkled with silver; it was tied with a cord at the nape of his neck. His shirt and breeches had patches upon patches, all heavy and soaked. He pointed emphatically. “Go back in the cabin!”