Defend the Dawn (Defy the Night #2)(108)

“Why?” I demand. “You said yourself that you were a boy. Your father put you in this position. You owe them nothing.”

His eyes snap to mine, but he snorts. “Just like your father put you in this position.”

I stare right back at him. I remember the day we met, when I asked about his father.

Dead. The same as yours.

“What happened to him?” I say. “You said he died in their war. You’d think that would make you more loyal to Kandala. Not less.”

He drops to a crouch and looks me right in the eye. “I’m not loyal to Kandala. I never was.”

He says it so plainly that the words hit me like a blow.

Then he leaves me bound there and moves away.

There are too many variables here. I can’t quite piece any of them together. I wanted access to that room because I was seeking proof that Rian was lying about something—and I guess I got it.

I just didn’t expect it to be in the form of an unconscious girl who looks like she hasn’t eaten in weeks.

But I can’t do anything for her. I can hardly do anything for us.

I blink in the early sunlight and take stock of our situation.

It’s not good.

I look over at the girl. Her wheezing is worse than Harristan when he has a coughing fit. Tessa seems unharmed, which is good, but Captain Blakemore isn’t stupid. She’s on the other end of the deck. I hope she has the good sense to be compliant. Despite everything, she has the best chance at being released.

Rocco is on his knees, bound to the mast between us. I don’t know if he was struck by a bolt from a crossbow or if he took a blade, but he’s a bit slumped, as if his bindings are all that’s holding him upright. I’m concerned about the amount of blood on his livery.

No Silas. No Lochlan. I don’t know what they’ve done with them—if anything.

I swallow again. My throat is thick.

I glance out at the water. One brigantine is closer, but I doubt they’re close enough to see that we’re held captive on deck, even with a spyglass. If they’re here at my brother’s order, I wouldn’t mind the assistance, but it’s not like Rian can’t slit my throat if they start firing cannons. The only leverage I have is that he’ll want me alive if he intends to use me against Harristan—but that clearly doesn’t mean I’ll be kept in comfort.

But if that ship is here for nefarious purposes, I don’t want to face it with my hands lashed to a wooden beam.

Not that I have a choice. Knowing my luck, they’ll fire on the Dawn Chaser and we’ll all drown.

More of the crew have come up on deck now, and it’s obvious they’ve heard what happened—but you’d think we weren’t even here. They begin going about their morning duties, barely glancing at any of us. Rian has retired to his stateroom, but he’s not far from the window. I can see him watching all of us. Gwyn isn’t far either. She stands at the helm. Sablo and Marchon are at the other end.

The crew might be working, but the key players are stressed. I might be able to use that to my advantage.

Maybe? Possibly?

I don’t know who I think I’m fooling.

I test my bonds. The ropes don’t give an inch. I’m on my knees, but I’m tied too tightly to sit fully. My hands are already tingling, so I shift to try to slacken the pressure. It doesn’t help.

Panic threatens to bubble up in my chest, but I force it back down. I’ve been bound before. I’ve been captured before. I survived that, I can survive this.

I don’t know what will happen if we try to talk to each other, but it’s not like things can get much worse.

“Rocco,” I say.

He blinks and looks up, and it takes a second longer than it should. “Your Highness.”

“You’re injured.”

“A blade caught me under my ribs. It’s not too deep.” His breathing seems shallow, contradicting his words.

“Do you know what happened to Silas?”

“They could have confined him to his quarters.”

I hear what he’s not saying. Or he could be dead.

Even if we somehow get free, there would be three of us against Rian’s entire crew. Unarmed and injured.

If Silas survived, that only makes four.

“Lochlan was on deck with us,” I say. “What happened to him?”

“I don’t know.” He pauses. “Possibly confined to his quarters as well.”

“Your boy’s down in the galley,” calls one of the crewmen. Tor, I think. “Dabriel’s got him shelling the crabs.”

Down in the galley. Like he’s one of the crew. I scowl.

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.

Rocco winces, then shifts his weight. A bloom of sweat glistens on his forehead. I should ask if he’s more injured than he’s letting on—but I probably don’t want the answer. It’s no secret that he’s hurt and in pain—but Gwyn was calling for Rian to shoot him. I’m sure he worries that being seen as a liability would not improve his position.

I draw a long breath and try to think of a plan.

I have nothing.

Instead, I think of my brother.

That’s no better.

Harristan. I failed. I’m sorry.

I swallow thickly, and I try to freeze my thoughts before emotion gets the better of me while I’m bound here on the deck. We’re definitely moving into more tumultuous waters, because the ship rocks and sways. I clench my eyes closed and tug at the ropes.