Defend the Dawn (Defy the Night #2)(122)

Silence falls again.

I stand in front of them all, my hood drawn back. Fully exposed. Fully vulnerable. Torches and lanterns glow in the darkness, but so many faces stare back at me. They’re wary. They’re worried. They just want to be safe and well.

I want the same.

“You know what people like Consul Sallister will do if they’re in power,” I say. “You know what will happen if he is able to take the throne. We need to stop him.”

“So what?” someone yells. “You think you’re going to order us into battle against your own people?”

“No,” I say, feeling the pound of my heart. “I think I’m going to lead you.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Tessa

I’m soaking wet and freezing on the deck of the ship. Fog is everywhere.

I feel nothing.

Corrick is gone.

I’ve lost him again.

Lochlan is gone.

I’m sorry, Karri.

A hand touches my shoulder. “Tessa.”

Rian. I jerk away. I don’t trust my voice. I choke on a sob.

“Please.” My voice breaks. “Please go away.”

He moves closer. “Tessa, I’m—”

“Keep your distance,” Rocco says sharply. I didn’t even realize he was nearby. I turn my head a fraction and see he’s facing down Rian.

I think the captain is going to snap at the guardsman, but he doesn’t. He straightens and takes a step back. “We’ll reach Fairde before daybreak. We’re in safer waters now. I thought you should know.”

I don’t care. I want to sink the ship myself. I say nothing.

“I told you to keep your distance,” Rocco says again.

Rian inhales—but then he must think better of it, because he moves away.

“Thank you, Rocco,” I whisper.

“Yes, Miss Tessa.”

I swallow. We’ve both lost too much. “You don’t … you don’t have to guard me.”

After a moment, he sits down beside me. After another moment, he takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. It’s kind. Brotherly.

“There’s no one left to guard,” he says quietly.

I put my face in my hands. “Do you think we’ll ever be able to get back?”

“I don’t know.”

There’s something terrifyingly bleak about that.

We’ll reach Fairde before daybreak. I thought you should know.

I draw a shuddering breath, then swipe the tears off my cheeks. I’ve been too naive for too long. Too trusting of too many people. All I ever wanted to do was help the people around me, and all it’s ever led to is pain and suffering.

So I sit up straighter and I look at Rocco. “I don’t know what to expect in Fairde,” I say. “But we’re all that’s left, Rocco. We need to stick together. You and me.”

“Yes, Miss Tessa.”

I shake my head. “No Miss Tessa anymore. Just Tessa.”

He nods. “Just Erik.” He holds out a hand.

“Erik,” I whisper. I clasp his hand. His almost dwarfs mine.

For an instance the fog breaks ahead, revealing a long stretch of glittering water. Beyond, I see a few scattered lights on the water, and my heart skips, expecting another attack. But they aren’t more ships. They’re fires or lanterns or something to indicate land.

And then, as I stare, the moonlight glistens on a large structure in the distance, a castle stretching into the sky.

I feel a band of steel wrapping around my spine, chasing away all the pain that feels too overwhelming. “I need you to help me with something,” I say to Rocco—to Erik.

“Anything,” he says.

“When we get to Ostriary,” I say, “I want you to teach me to fight.”





CHAPTER FORTY

Corrick

I wake up vomiting seawater.

It’s unpleasant, but vastly preferable to getting kicked in the ribs, which is what happens next.

“I asked your name!” a man barks.

I can’t breathe. I can’t think, which is why I croak out, “What?”

“Your name.”

I try to open my eyes, but everything is dark. I move my hands, and sand grits beneath my palms. I’m facedown, and I try to rise to my knees.

Someone kicks me back down again. “Your name.”

I open my mouth to say Corrick, but I cough on a lungful of seawater that I spit all over my hands.

“I told you!” a man snaps, and it takes me a moment to place the voice. Lochlan. “He’s just one of the prince’s servants.”

“Is that true?” A boot nudges me in the side.

My breathing is ragged. One of the prince’s servants? I don’t understand. I can’t think.

“Come on, Wes,” Lochlan says, and there’s a bite of urgency to his tone. “Tell Mr. Crane your name.”

Mr. Crane.

Come on, Wes.

I shove my hand into the sand and flip over. A dozen men and women stand over me. All are heavily armed. I can smell blood on the air, and I desperately hope it isn’t mine.

One drops to a knee beside me and puts the tip of a dagger against my chin. He’s the tallest man I’ve ever seen, with a line of jagged scars from his eyebrow to his neck. “Yes,” he says. “Tell Mr. Crane your name.”