Sea Witch(34)

I laugh. “Sandy tarts always are.”

“Odd bit of cuisine, you Havnestaders.”

“Eat up. Nik will expect you at full strength tomorrow,” I say.

Iker raises a brow, mischief on his lips. “What if I told him I was saving my strength for you?”

I push him away from me and stand, my back to him, arms crossed.

“I was kidding,” he pleads. “Are all the games tomorrow?”

I nod, dusting myself off while he still lies in the sand.

“Does this mean tomorrow is when you will shimmy across a log?”

When I don’t respond, he stands and wraps his arms around me from behind, trailing two fingers across my navel, having them mimic a stiff jog.

“As promised, my prince,” I say, laughing a little. Why do I always give in?

“Yes—”

A scream cuts off Iker’s answer. Annemette. Both Iker and I whip our heads toward Annemette and Nik. They are closer to the crowd, Annemette crouching in the sand, Nik staggering a bit before falling to his knees, clutching his stomach. Standing before both of them is Malvina, hands in front of her body as if they’d just released a dagger.

Iker stiffens, his whole body suddenly rigid with tension. “Cousin?”

Nik staggers to a stand and raises a hand to wave him off, turning toward us. His white shirt and dazzling royal coat are a mess of black, like the tears I’ve cried twice before.

Iker takes a step toward the scene, fists forming.

But then Nik points toward his boots. Toward the pie plate lying facedown in the sand.

“Urda has been quite generous with Malvina’s blueberry pie. The goddess must have decided that my wardrobe and the beach were in particular need of nourishment.” With that, Nik begins to laugh.

Immediately, Iker joins him, and I catch Annemette’s eye as she rises from her crouch. A little chuckle bubbles from her lips, growing into a full laugh when her attention turns to Nik’s doubled-over form. I’m almost too shocked to laugh, having been holding my breath this whole time, but then I join in too.

The only one not finding humor in all this is Malvina, embarrassment but not regret in the set of her jaw. She doesn’t apologize as she storms past Annemette—clearly her intended target—and snatches the pie plate from the sand at Nik’s feet.

She stands to face him. Nik attempts to compose himself enough to look her in the eye but fails miserably, laughter still wryly present in his features as he lets the blueberry glop and sugar crust slide off his gold-threaded coat and onto the beach.

“I hope you will enjoy this gift in the name of Urda,” Malvina announces, nose in the air, before pivoting on her heel as best as she can in beach sand, blond hair flying.

When she’s gone, we gather around him and survey the damage. The shirt, coat and even his pants are all unsalvageable.

But true to his nature, Nik just grins and presents his sopping clothes.

“Pie, ladies? Urda does insist.”





16


I WAKE WITH THE SUN THE FOLLOWING MORNING, STILL warm with feelings of belonging from the night before. Yesterday was a daydream from start to end, and I wanted to never wake up. But in the white morning light, reality becomes stark and my mood shifts quickly.

Annemette is still fast asleep, toes stretching toward the ceiling, arms thrown above her head, tangled within her waves. I lie there for a moment and listen to the gulls before I realize my opportunity. I know a way I can do some real good today.

On silent feet, I head to the wardrobe and tug it open. The first dress on the right is one I wore two days ago when I met Annemette. I can’t believe that’s all the time that’s passed, but in the same breath, I can’t believe so much of our time has vanished. Today and tomorrow until midnight, and then it could all be over in the most horrific way possible—or it might be the happiest ending of all.

Annemette still seems confident, and I’m obeying her request that I not intervene, at least not magically, but the thought of losing another friend to the sea is almost unbearable. First Anna, then nearly Nik, and now Annemette, who’s only been in my life for a short while, but who’s helped open my world in ways I’d never imagined. She’s the friend Anna never could be to me, that Nik can’t be, either. She’s the only one who knows my secrets. Well, most of them.

I’ve been pushing these feelings down, telling myself this is her decision, that I should instead try to appreciate the life around me, as I’m sure she is, but I don’t know how much longer I can feel so helpless.

At least I can still use my magic for one thing. I fish through my dress pocket. My fingers brush past the vial of ink from the other day and curl around the little amethyst, safe and sound where I left it. I can only hope that my morning away from the docks led to just one day of poor fishing, or maybe none at all—the magic is new enough that I don’t know what happens if I don’t do it.

I dress quickly, and, minutes later, I make it to the docks without seeing a soul. The cobblestones are littered with dew-covered crumbs, orphaned the night before, and so far neglected by the ?resund birds.

The docks are quiet too, no ships coming or going, though that will change in a few hours. Today is the favorite among the festivalgoers. The gluttony of the previous nights draws some, the final day of sailing and dancing attracts others, but not nearly as many as those lining up to participate or watch the games today.