A Poison Dark and Drowning (Kingdom on Fire #2)(13)
“You’re here?” Blackwood sounded exasperated already.
“I am, Blacky, though I appreciate the philosophy of the question. After all, are we any of us here? Can existence be truly proven? You’ve given me much to think about.” Magnus sketched me a short bow. “Howel. A pleasure.”
“Yes,” I said stiffly. Magnus wore a tightly fitted blue naval coat with tan breeches. Looking more closely, I noticed his hair sported streaks of gold. His tan face had reddened a bit at the tip of his nose and the sharp lines of his cheeks; his body had grown leaner. Perhaps he had changed in the months we’d been apart. The boy I’d known in Agrippa’s house had experienced only the briefest moments of combat. He’d been far busier helping me train, showing me the city, and growing closer than I should have allowed. He’d kissed me one night, quickly reminding me that I could only ever be a toy for him—he was already engaged, after all.
True, Magnus had come to aid me in the final battle against Korozoth, and I’d wanted us to start over as friends. But the last time I’d seen him, he’d held my hand and whispered that he couldn’t let me go. I’d walked away and hadn’t seen him since.
I’d been perfectly comfortable with that.
“Oh, Mr. Magnus,” Eliza cooed, extending her hand. “I’d no idea you’d be here.” The over-the-top way she said it indicated that she’d perhaps had an inkling. Her insistence on coming to see us off made a great deal more sense now. Blackwood’s whole face seemed to contract as Magnus kissed Eliza’s hand.
“My lady, you are more charming than ever. Is it possible you’re still not sixteen?” He tsked. “Inconceivable.”
Eliza giggled. “We’re planning a splendid party for my birthday. I hope you’ll be one of the guests?”
Blackwood and I exchanged a look. As if this expedition weren’t stressful enough.
“How could I refuse such an invitation?” He all but winked at her. Right. He hadn’t changed at all.
“Come along,” Blackwood muttered, taking Eliza’s arm and practically dragging her back to the coach.
“Goodbye, Eliza.” I waved to her.
“Goodbye!” She smiled at me, and then, “Farewell!” she cried to Magnus. I wondered if she’d toss him her handkerchief as a keepsake. Magnus kept grinning roguishly. Bloody fool.
“Don’t worry, Howel,” he said, turning to me. “You get me all to yourself on the boat.”
I wanted to strangle him.
“How is Miss Winslow?” I asked. At the mention of his fiancée, Magnus’s face fell, but only slightly.
“She’s well. And Rook?” The humor vanished from his voice. He knew about Rook’s “condition.” Granted, he didn’t know everything. Part of me wanted to tell him what was happening, to tell someone.
But I only replied, “He’s wonderful.” He was going to be. I was going to make damned sure of it. I walked hastily up the plank, wobbling a little bit, and gripped the ship’s railing. Cornwall. We only had to sail to Cornwall. Less than three hundred miles; surely they would fly by. Magnus’s hand brushed my back to steady me, and I practically jumped.
“What’s the matter?” Magnus looked rather surprised. “I thought we were friends.”
I can’t let you go. His last words to me, and he wondered why I was nervous? Did I not understand men at all?
Blackwood stumbled up the walkway, cursing under his breath. Magnus couldn’t resist. “You’ll get your sea legs yet, Blacky.”
“Tell me you’re not taking us to Strangewayes’s.” Blackwood didn’t bother to conceal his hostility. Unfortunately, that was the sort of thing Magnus relished.
“I would, but I hate to lie to you.” Magnus clapped Blackwood on the shoulder. “Just think. We’ll be as close as we ever were.” Blackwood looked as though he might commit murder. Granted, that was as close as they’d ever been.
“Howel. Blackwood.” A man dressed in the blue coat of a naval officer approached us. His long brown hair was tied back from his face. The only thing that marked him as a sorcerer was the stave by his hip. “Captain Ambrose, of Her Majesty’s navy. So. We’re to sail to Cornwall on the Order’s business? Then there’s no time to lose.”
The salt breeze chilled me as I clung to the railing and stared into the waves lapping against the side of the ship. The world tilted with every lurch. Everything I’d read in stories suggested that sailing was supposed to be relaxing, filled with lemonade and laughing people in attractive outfits. Frankly, I thought I was going to vomit up everything I’d eaten this morning, and maybe everything I’d ever eaten after that.
Behind me, men climbed the ropes, adjusted the sails, and kept a lookout high above. There were seven sorcerers aboard, excluding Blackwood and myself. Several of them hovered near, what was it, the crow’s nest? They watched the coastline and the open sea, in case Nemneris, the Water Spider, attacked.
“I don’t care if there is a party of Ancients waiting for us when we land,” Blackwood muttered as he came up next to me. “I will be so bloody happy to get off this ship.” His handsome face was tinged as green as I felt.
“We’re land creatures, I’d say. How is Magnus doing so well?” I sighed as, speak of the devil, Magnus clapped his hands and called attention to himself. We all watched as he flew up, up to the, ah, oh hell, some other mast and fixed a line of rope, then somersaulted back down to land on the deck. He accepted the men’s cheers the way a cat laps up cream.