Sea Witch(56)

“So, yes. I want to know everything about you, Friherrinde Mette. Starting with how you came here—and why you arrived ahead of all the other invitees. And just as much as I want to know those things, I want to know even more how you knew to befriend Evie to get access to Nik.”

I wince. Because he’s right. But I’m too afraid to open my eyes and see Annemette’s reaction. Both to his drunken questioning and to my cowardly silence.

“Thank you for your concern, Cousin.” My eyes fly open, and Nik is awake and straightening himself from sleep. Annemette huddles against him while Iker’s teeth are bared in something of a smile—but the intent is much fiercer. “But interrogating our guest isn’t the way to go about it.”

“She hasn’t been properly vetted.”

“Who are you, my mother? When did we stop taking people at their word?”

“You never have that option.”

Iker shoots to his feet, and Nik is right after him. They lean into each other, jaws tense and features reddening.

“You are the sole heir to the jewel of the ?resund Kingdoms, the richest fishing village in the strait,” Iker spits. “You can’t just go throwing your future at a stranger.”

“How is that worse than what you do? Throwing your pole in every corner of the ocean, tossing back any girl you catch?”

“If I’m so horrible, why in the name of all the gods would you let me be sweet on someone you love?”

My heart flutters at the word love, though there really isn’t a better word for our friendship. Nik stares at Iker for a long time before he answers. “I thought Evie would be enough to settle you down. And, considering you’re planning on taking her whaling in the morning, I think she’s succeeded.”

My eyes shoot to Annemette’s. There’s surprise in them—as much as I imagine in mine at Nik knowing our plans. There’s something else there too, but I can’t look long because the boys start up again, hands balled at their sides, color in their cheeks, faces an inch apart.

“This isn’t about Evie. This is about the fact that you are so blinded by that thing in your chest that you can’t see this girl for what she is—a complete and total stranger with no proof that she is who she says.” Iker takes Nik’s shoulders with a firm grip. “Her story is thin and her credentials are nonexistent—that makes her motives suspect. I have met many people in my travels and—”

“The fact that you are well-traveled does not make me na?ve.” Nik shrugs off Iker and takes a step back, out of easy reach. “And I’d rather be ruled by the thing in my chest than the thing in my trousers—”

A peal of thunder rips through the sky, loud enough to kill the words and anger on Nik’s lips. All four of us tense and wrench around in the direction of the sound, to the northeast. A cloud so big and black it appears like night with no end is heavy on the horizon. Just like on Nik’s birthday, this storm has come out of nowhere—so sudden it’s strange.

But it’s a storm, and the three of us know exactly what to do.

Without another word, the boys and I are in motion, working around Annemette, who cowers against the mainmast pole as the boat begins to rock at a heavy clip.

There are far too many ships in the harbor, and we’re just beyond it, in the strait and nearly out to sea—much farther out than we were the night of the party, and on a much smaller boat.

The three of us get the ship turned, the food and drink put away, the long oars at the ready. Finally, there is nothing more we can do other than hunker down and row forward—just what every other boat in the strait is doing at the same moment. Well, save for the king’s steamer, which is puffing merrily toward the dock, cutting a path through slower-moving vessels.

Ships clog the harbor, and where progress is slow on the water, it’s quick in the sky. The storm beats at our backs, wind blowing in the right general direction, but also serving as a warning call. The stronger the wind, the closer the storm.

“Evie!” Nik calls between heavy breaths as he and Iker row for it. “Help Mette.”

I leave my spot at the wheel and slog to the mainmast post, where Annemette is huddled, hanging on for dear life. I sink down beside her and press my bodice against her back, shielding her from the storm as much as I can.

The rain begins to pound down, and I feel her shudder beneath me.

“I just want to go home.”

“I know, Anna—Mette. Mette, I know.”

She doesn’t react to my stumble. She just repeats herself. Over and over.

As lightning flashes, something hard and biting thwacks me on the back of the head. I shake it off and turn to where the object has fallen to the ground.

Hail.

My heart drops and I raise my head. White chunks are flying through the air, plunging into the harbor in a deluge, rocks falling as fast and knitted together as fat raindrops.

I scan the horizon. We’re at least four hundred yards out, and more than two dozen boats stand in our way of safety. We’re small enough to cut around the bigger ships, but even with the boys rowing at full strength, I’m not convinced we’re agile enough to not get crushed in the process.

I glance to the left. To the cove—the natural shelter. It’s completely open, no ships there.

“The cove! Can we land in the cove?”