To Kill a Kingdom(57)

We continue on that way, swords arcing through the air, our breath ragged. Soon there’s sun in the distance, or perhaps even moonlight. Everything is muted and as Lira swoops her blade down on mine once more, I let it all fall away. My mission, my kingdom. The world. They exist somewhere other than in this moment, and now there is only this. Me, my ship, and a girl with oceans in her eyes.





24


Lira


I HUM IN SYNC with the ocean, one hand hitched to the empty sword loop on my waist and the other closing over the edge of the Saad. Night quilts the sky with stars sown like the uneven stitching of my jacket.

A new land lies somewhere in reach – the next plotted point in Elian’s quest – and the crew sleeps peacefully below while we sail toward it. Above where I linger, the ship’s wheel stands firm, twitching ever so slightly to steer the Saad onward. Even without a pirate awake to command it, Elian’s mighty vessel navigates knowingly along his chosen course.

I fasten my jacket over my chest as the wind picks up speed and quicken my song to match the pace. It’s an odd sensation to be able to sing and have nobody suffer a consequence for it. To use my voice in the complete opposite way it was intended, with neither death nor sorrow in its wake. Leaving behind nothing but a melody.

I feel at peace.

There’s something about the easy routine of the Saad that settles the awful parts holding true inside my heart. Nights are spent taking in the uncanny tranquility of the ocean, far from my mother’s wrath, and the crew – even Kye, who isn’t at all afraid to be entirely unwelcoming – offers a unique comfort. The easy rapport they share reminds me of home. Of Kahlia. They look at Elian the same way my cousin looks at me: with devotion that isn’t offered in blind fidelity, but earned through something far deeper. Trust. Friendship. Maybe even love. At the very least, I can pretend not to be my mother’s daughter. Live like I’ve never killed, and spend hours of a day without worrying that everything I do might be used against me.

I can almost see why Elian chose to abandon his birthright in favor of such a nomadic life. Though I plan to return to the Diávolos Sea and take my mother’s place, I can’t deny the appeal of a life spent far from the weight of kingdoms. It definitely isn’t the worst idea the prince has had. Most likely. At least he knows what he wants.

My mother’s voice boomerangs inside my mind, commanding me to give up the hope of trying to overthrow her and just take Elian’s heart before it’s too late. If I fail at getting the Second Eye of Keto, then not only will I die, but I’ll die a traitor to the ocean. But what’s the alternative? Bowing and praying that one day she gives me the throne, all the while watching Kahlia wince in her presence? If I follow my mother’s orders, then I’m condemning Kahlia and the rest of the ocean to her rule. But if I don’t follow them, if I dare to go through with my plot, then I risk proving just how defective I really am.

I grip the ship more tightly, inhaling the slick salt in the air.

If only my quest were as simple as Elian’s, singularly focused on being the savior of humanity. It might seem like a big undertaking, but it’s not like it requires him to betray everything he’s ever known. If he succeeds, his mother might be proud. If I succeed, mine might die.

Thinking of Elian makes the night seem colder. I know whichever plan I go with will lead to his death. Either I try to kill him now, or I wait to kill him after, but there’s no path I’ve mapped out for myself that doesn’t end alongside his life.

Every action will betray. Every choice will slaughter. Despite what my mother says, I seem to be the exact kind of monster she wanted.

The very moment I think that, a soft melody slips through the air. A distant lullaby, too far to make out, but familiar all the same. It’s drowsing and seductive. So much so that it takes me a few moments to realize the ship is quaking. It’s like the ocean hears the treachery of my thoughts and sends a mighty force crashing into the side of the Saad. I hurl forward and my hands slam over the edge of the ship’s body.

I barely stop myself from plummeting overboard. I hold back a scream and look down at the peaceful ocean below. There’s not a wave in sight, or the slow bubble of froth that comes after such a powerful surge. But there is a shadow.

I blink.

It lingers in the pooling darkness, half-swallowed by water and gripping firmly on to the Saad. I squint, leaning farther over the edge to get a closer look.

From the darkness, a skeleton claw rises.

The shadow scrambles toward me, scurrying up the side of the Saad with nefarious speed. I jump back just in time for the creature to pounce onto the deck and shake the sails.

Ridges crisscross down its body like scars, patched by motes of gray that seep into its flesh. Each of its fins are set apart in razors, and its large torso is carved into endless folds, leading to arms that end in inky talons. Half-shark, half something far more demonic.

The Flesh-Eater.

I drop to my knees and my mother’s monster roars. He skitters toward me, reaching out with slick palms to drag a hand down my cheek.

“Pórni mou,” he gnarls.

I don’t react to the possessive claim, or the repulsive way he phrases it, his claws scraped against my skin in warning. I was wary of the Flesh-Eater even when I was a siren, but now that I’m human, he could easily tear through me. Perhaps that’s why my mother sent him. I wonder why Elian and his crew haven’t come running. Is it possible they didn’t feel the ship lurch? I focus again on that familiar lullaby gliding through the wind, making my eyes heavier with each verse.