All the Stars and Teeth(19)
“If you’re no Valukan, then where are you from?”
Though his face darkens, he slackens his body and lifts his chin. “That’s the reason I lied.” His words are quiet but confident, daring me to challenge him. “I’m from Zudoh, and my people need your help.”
The words cause my blade to go slack. I withdraw it from his throat and take a quick step back.
“Tell me why I should help a banished island.” I try to keep the fear from my voice when I ask. If Bastian notices, he doesn’t let on.
“Because it’s not just about Zudoh. Kaven wants to destroy the entire kingdom. And if you don’t come with me right now, he’s going to succeed.”
There’s that name, again. Kaven.
It’s like fire to my throat and lead in my stomach; a name that, deep in my gut, I know is somehow wrong. Bastian has the answers that Father won’t give me. Answers that I’ll need if I’m to properly rule Visidia.
Bastian may not be telling me the whole truth, but he’s not lying about this. And for now, with the voices of the guards growing closer and the future of Visidia on the line, that’s enough.
I sheathe my dagger and nod to the switchback that carves our way down the cliffside. “Keep close, and get me to your ship.”
CHAPTER SIX
When we make it to the sand, breathless and dripping with sweat, there isn’t one ship in the bay that’s manned. I search for Bastian’s crew, but they’ve likely all been given leave to view my performance and enjoy Arida’s festivities; if Bastian plans to sail us away, we won’t get far without them. Yet he doesn’t stop moving. A rope ladder dangles from the side of a brigantine and he latches onto it, ascending with ease.
It’s a ship that snatches my breath, smaller than Father’s, but far from simple. While our ships are made from oak, this one is a magnificent shade of white I’ve never before seen—made from aspen or birch wood, perhaps—and outlined with rich gold trim. Older, it reeks of charm and adventure.
At the bow, a brilliant figurehead of a sea serpent stares back at me, its forked tongue out like it’s hissing. Half its face and whiskers are covered in sculpted barnacles, which make it look as though it’s just emerged from the depths of the sea. The sight of it quickens my heart and makes my throat thick with desire. It’s the loveliest ship I’ve ever seen, and though part of me knows that this is far from what I should be feeling in the midst of fleeing my home, I can’t ignore the surge of excitement that heats my blood as I clutch the fraying ladder and pull myself up after Bastian.
By the time I throw my legs over the side of the ship, he’s already got his sleeves rolled up, halfway through hauling up the anchors.
“Welcome aboard Keel Haul!” he grunts. “Make yourself useful and help me get this thing up.”
“What does it matter if we’ve no crew to sail us?”
Bastian rolls his eyes. “I’m afraid we don’t accept pessimism aboard this ship, Princess. Come help!”
I wipe the sweat from my brow and move to join him, wishing my dress wasn’t half as heavy or nearly so tight as I help him raise the anchors, surprised by how easily they move with just the two of us. But I’m half distracted as I help, squinting my eyes shut to hone my magic and see what other souls it can sense.
Even below deck, Bastian’s is the only soul I can feel. I drop my hold on the anchors at once, ignoring the pirate’s exasperated sigh.
“Who is this we?” I demand. “The two of us are the only ones on this ship, and there’s no way we’ll be able to sail it on our own.”
“Now what did I say about pessimism?” Bastian chides. “If you don’t trust me, then feel free to jump off the plank and swim back to your kingdom right now.”
“Well, I wouldn’t really have to swim, now would I? Considering we can’t sail.”
Bastian’s lips quirk as he finishes reeling in the anchors. “Oh? You sure about that?”
I follow Bastian’s finger as he points behind me, and I’m dizzy again. I swear I’ve been here for no more than two minutes, yet the shores of Arida are at least a hundred feet away. When I turn back to Bastian, he takes a seat on the deck and pats the space in front of him.
“Before we get into specifics,” he says, “I need you to tell me something—did you truly have no idea what was happening with the Kers? Not even a suspicion?”
“Of course not!” I slam my hand down onto the deck, and he frowns in offense at the spot I’ve hit. “How dare you even imply—”
“Why wouldn’t I imply it?” Bastian argues. “The majority of the kingdom knows.”
The words are claws to my soul, tearing its lining to shreds. If Bastian’s telling the truth, then just how much has Father managed to keep hidden from me?
“Yeah, well, I didn’t. If I’d known they were suffering, I wouldn’t have stayed silent. I would have found a way to help.” The words don’t feel like enough. They’re quiet and painful, but they’re all I have to offer. “I swear it.”
I can’t be sure Bastian even blinks when he stares at me. His face is so stern and assessing, as if waiting for me to flinch under the pressure. When I don’t, he leans back on his palms, the hard lines of his face eventually softening with belief.