All the Stars and Teeth(52)
The moment I’m at the door, Blarthe and the others lunge. I take a sharp breath through my nose, then spit the rum into the fire of my torch, breathing it like a dragon onto his skin. Around him, the other men stumble back and scatter.
I may not kill Blarthe tonight, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t suffer for his crimes until I return for him.
When his skin chars and distressed screams fill the night, I drop the torch and run.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Pain stabs my calves as my feet slap against the cracking pavement. When my boots catch a stray rock and I roll my ankle, I bite through the searing pain, catch my balance, and push myself at full speed after the other three.
Vataea is surprisingly nimble on her feet. She and Ferrick lead the way through the winding alleys and mud. Bastian’s a few steps behind. He keeps looking over his shoulder at me, then past me. His grimace is enough to tell me I need to run faster.
Bastian reaches his hand back and I lurch forward to take it. He yanks me beside him with a grunt. The pain in my ankle swells deeper. Every step feels like a thousand needles stabbing into my flesh, but the bruises along Vataea’s back and the rags she wears assure me there’s no option but to run.
Bastian must sense something’s wrong because his grip tightens on my hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t let them touch you.”
I believe him. There’s something in his voice that fills the words with truth. Something in the way his touch sends shock waves through my body. I wrap my fingers tight around his hand and keep running.
Something swooshes through the air and nicks my ear. I gasp, the pain hot and searing. Three men close in behind us.
One of them sneers, chucking another rock toward me. I duck just in time, but the next one hits Bastian on the shoulder. His muscles seize and he grunts, but there’s nothing we can do. If we turn and fight, more men will join these three within minutes.
The ground softens beneath my feet as we reach the wet pebble shore, each step more slippery and more painful than the last. The stench of brine and seaweed fills the moist air.
Ferrick is already helping Vataea onto a dinghy. She looks back at us with a grimace and yells something indecipherable at Ferrick, pointing to the ties securing our boat to the land. He undoes them but stands with one foot on the pebbles and the other in the boat, holding it in place.
Bastian shoves me forward and I nearly fall face-first into Ferrick, who pulls me onto the dinghy. He gives it a firm kick into the water before falling into place beside me.
Bastian’s still running. One stone hits our boat while another smacks him in the head. He sways, and the men behind him draw their swords.
“Bastian, run!” I scream. He pushes forward as best he can. The ocean is to his knees by the time he reaches the dinghy and drags himself onto the cramped space. The dinghy rocks, threatening to tip us over, but I silently beg the ocean for its help.
Just this once, it listens.
Ferrick and I are quick to grab the two oars, but the men have followed us into the water. There’s still enough time for them to grab on to the dinghy and yank us back.
I spin to Vataea, who snarls at the approaching men. Her breaths are quick and feral.
“Do something!” I growl, pounding the oar into the water. I use every bit of strength left in me to propel us forward, away from the approaching men. Ferrick does the same, but the water is so shallow it’s hard to gain headway. The men lurch forward, trying to grab the edge of the dinghy. “You’ve a song that can control the sea, don’t you? Give us a wave or something!”
She jerks her focus to me, though her eyes slip to the water. They fill with longing as her breaths steady.
She’s going to leave us.
I want to reach for the cursed necklace in my boot to use on one of our pursuers, but I can’t tear myself away from rowing long enough to grab it. It’s useless in this fight.
A thin man with a scar over his eye dives forward and grabs on to the edge. He’s got a solid grip, but I whack the oar down on his hand with all my strength. The man draws it back with a hiss of breath.
“Please,” I beg Vataea through gritted teeth. “This kingdom needs us so much more than you know. Please, help us.”
She squares her shoulders and furrows her brows, never turning away from the ocean. My heart drops when she throws herself over the dinghy.
The moment she hits the water, the sea flashes an iridescent gold. The men following us curse. All but one throw themselves from our boat and bolt to the shore.
I catch a flash of tail fin beneath murky green water as the gold fades. Her fin is a startling rose gold; the tips shimmer bright as jewels, like a shining trinket I’m tempted to reach into the water and take. If not for the need to defend myself from the remaining pursuer, I might have followed after that fin.
“She’s leaving?” Ferrick asks breathily. “I thought we had a deal!”
While I fend off the men and their storm of rocks and hungry hands, he’s still rowing the other oar with everything in him. The water is less shallow by the second. It’s looking like we’re about to escape free and clear when the thin man throws himself at us again. I whack his hand once more, but this time he only grunts.
He reaches for my cape, latching onto it and trying to tip us into the water. I grab the dagger at my side, but Bastian has already drawn his blade. Ferrick, sickly and green, digs his oar through the waves and does his best to steady us.