“To remember her as an example of what I could’ve become, if not for the good luck of having people like you and Niffin, and especially Gideon, in my life.” Dismissing the thought with a shiver, I slipped my foot into Adeleiz’s stirrup and swung my leg over her saddle. “Let’s get to the ship. I won’t feel at ease until we’re on board and sailing away.”

Niffin snorted and tugged his cap lower. “You said your penchant for trouble would only get worse before it gets better. You were not lying, were you?”

I clicked my tongue and nudged Adaleiz. “Lying is a tricky weapon.” It was something my father had often said. “A double-edged blade. I’m just as likely to cut myself as I am my target.”

“I have never heard of an honest politician before.” He reached down, offering his hand to Malita, and helped her mount behind him. Once she was seated, we sauntered toward the waterfront and docks. “But perhaps you will be the first.”

Chapter 4

Our ship was a blend of old and new—a retrofitted, two-masted schooner. A pair of paddlewheels affixed to the starboard and port sides near the stern churned seawater into frothy foam. Crisp white sails billowed in the breeze. We stood at the deck rails, watching the Varyngan coastline shrink until it was a dark slash at the edge of the sea. A salty breeze stirred the hairs curling at my temples. I buttoned my jacket against the chill air, wishing I could wear my Thunder Cloak instead. Malita had drawn her shawl over her shoulders, and Niffin wrapped his arm around her, holding her close, sharing his warmth. If Gideon had been there, would he have offered me the same comfort?

Of course he would. He’s stoic, not callous.

His absence scraped my heart raw, especially at night when I had trouble sleeping. I missed the reassuring rhythm of his breath.

The last time I’d travelled by sea, I’d been fleeing my home on Inselgrau, chased by what I’d believed were revolutionaries and upstarts. I hadn’t been able to bear watching my country fade away, so I’d put Inselgrau to my back and gazed, instead, at the horizon. This time, my departure was less disturbing. In a roundabout way, I was starting the first leg of a journey that would eventually lead me home.

Also, the last time I’d travelled by sea, I’d been kidnapped and washed overboard during a storm. With that in mind, I kept my senses tuned, watching my fellow passengers, assessing each one for the possibility of threat. I never strayed far from my friends’ sides. My boot knife brushed my ankle when I moved, and when I reached for the storms, they responded like loyal soldiers awaiting orders from their favorite commander. If anyone attacked, I was prepared to defend myself.

As the sun drooped and the sky darkened from blue to violet, the Burya sailed toward a port on the Batiysk Sea’s opposite coastline. Once there, we exchanged a few passengers, collected more coal to feed the furnaces, and returned to the open waters. The ship’s captain promised that if we continued making good time, we’d arrive in Dreutch by dawn the morning after next.

After dinner, Niffin and Malita retired to their tiny berth. I took the compartment next door. A sliver of moonlight shone through my room’s small porthole, providing the only light besides the glow from a single flickering candle at my bedside. I cracked open the porthole, letting in a stream of fresh air, diluting the musty odors in my room. The excitement of clashing with Alyona’s gang, the use of my powers, and the strain of remaining alert and wary had drained me. My eyes felt gritty and dry as I slipped into bed. My last thoughts were of Gideon, and I prayed to my ancestors, begging them to keep him safe.

My eyes must have been closed only a moment before snapping open when sharp voices jarred me awake.

“Se iyen o da?” Niffin’s tone was indignant.

The tenor of Malita’s reply matched his. “Mi o mo!”

Tuning my ears, I listened, breath held. The ship’s thin walls might as well have been sheets of parchment. Niffin and Malita’s voices were clear, as though they stood in the room with me. They were speaking Malita’s language. I couldn’t translate their words, but I understood their tone. Terse and angry, this fight was nothing like their usual lovers’ tiffs.

Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes and debated knocking on their door to ask if everything was all right—if they might not prefer a night of separation. Before I could make up my mind to interrupt them, they fell silent, but their animosity seeped through the walls, as frigid as a winter breeze.

When I lay down for the second time, sleep didn’t come so easily. I exchanged my prayers for Gideon for ones about my friends and asked for wisdom in deciding what to do next.

***

A heavy blanket of silence covered our table as we ate breakfast—plates of eggs, dried sausages, and toast that tasted like sandpaper. Hostility coated every bite in a rancid oily flavor. Malita’s shoulders drooped, and dark circles had collected under her eyes. Niffin’s hair was spikey and disheveled, his pale complexion downright deathlike. Obviously, I wasn’t the only one who’d slept poorly.

“I hear there’s a library on board,” I said. “Board games and cards too.” We needed a distraction, something to keep our minds occupied.

Malita’s gaze flicked toward me, but she gave no signs of interest as she shoved food around her plate. Niffin ignored me altogether.

“Fine, no games,” I said. “How about I throw you both overboard for a chilly swim?”

That caught Niffin’s attention. His mouth popped open, and his eyebrows arched above his spectacle rims. A pink flush flooded his cheeks.

“How about a training lesson then?” I dropped my napkin on the table and stood. “Teach me some of those techniques you’ve taught Malita.” My request was genuine, but I could tell he suspected I wanted something more from him than training. He wasn’t wrong. “Just you and me.”

Malita’s brow crumpled, and her lips turned down even farther. Before she could object, I pointed at the side table where a waiter was laying out a plate of muffins. “Why don’t you take a snack back to the room. Enjoy a little peace and quiet.” I squeezed her shoulder. “If you look in my bags, you’ll find a roll of blank parchment and a few pencils.”

Not so long ago, Malita’s drawings had been our primary means of communication. She was a talented artist. She considered my suggestion for a moment, tapping her lip as she furrowed her brow. Then she nodded, stood, and swished by us, stopping to collect muffins and tea before leaving the room.

“Well...” Niffin gnawed his bottom lip, staring at the doorway through which Malita had disappeared. “If one of the duties of a queen is to arbitrate peace, then you are well on your way to earning your crown.”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on. Let’s find a quiet place away from the crowds. I bet the other passengers won’t be too understanding if they spot me struggling to get away from you.”

We found an area on the main deck near the stern, free from onlookers. A stiff breeze from the north had brought an uncomfortable chill, and the paddlewheels threw up enough mist and raised enough clatter to discourage casual visitors. I buttoned my coat and rocked on my feet to keep my body warm and blood pumping.

Though not as tall as Gideon or as broad, Niffin still stood half a head higher than me. His lean muscles were strong and ropey like the cables of hemp coiled about the deck. At first glance, he might not have seemed intimidating, but one encounter with his subtle strength would probably make most assailants reluctant to fight him twice.

“Let us work on escaping wrist grabs.” He removed his tinted spectacles, pushed up his sleeves, and raked his dark hair off his brow. Waggling his fingers, he held out his hand, motioning for me to give him my arm. His long fingers curled around my wrist, squeezing until I gritted my teeth. “First thing is to step back and spread your feet. Get your balance.”

Once I’d followed his instructions, he continued. “Relax. The tighter your joints and muscles are, the harder it is to turn your wrist.”

Again, I complied.

“Stay loose, but quickly turn your thumb toward mine. It should force me to loosen my grip. The moment it does, try to pull free.”

We worked through the simple routine until I perfected it. Then he taught me to escape a two-handed wrist grab. We added in a knee jab to disable my attacker long enough for me to flee. Satisfied with my performance, Niffin suggested we take a break from the noise and cold breeze. I agreed, and together we strolled to the dining room.

He poured two glasses of water and passed one to me. “You were determined, and you did a good job, but...” He gazed at the mural painted on the dining room's opposite wall—a fierce sea goddess battling an aquatic monster, its tentacles rendered in such fantastic detail that it seemed alive and eager to seize an unsuspecting passenger. “I assume training was not your real reason for wanting to be alone with me, Ev—” He cleared his throat. “Liesl.”

Away from the ocean breeze, the air felt warmer, staler, thicker. I sipped my water as sweat trickled down my neck. “I might’ve had an ulterior motive.”

“You are curious about the fight you overheard last night, yes?”

“I don’t need the details. I only need to know you’re keeping the promise you gave me in that field on the outskirts of Pecia. You’re keeping Malita safe above all else, right?” I wished I could make him promise to keep her happy, too, but that was unfair to them both. Initially, Niffin was little more than an acquaintance in the periphery of my thoughts. Over the past weeks, he and his family had come to mean much more to me, and he deserved my utmost sympathy—the same sympathy I would’ve offered a brother, if I’d had one. “You’d make her happy if you could. I know it.”

“I would.” The earnestness in his purple eyes scorched me. “I would do anything.”

“I know you’re frustrated.” I rose up on my toes until we were nearly eye to eye. “But you can’t take it out on her.”

He raked his hands through his hair and let out a heavy breath. “I vow I would never do such a thing, but this whole situation has made me shorter tempered than usual. Malita’s homesickness has affected her similarly. She is a flame, I am a fuse, and together we have become rather...” He puffed out his cheeks and spread his hands like dispersing smoke. “Explosive.”

“You still love her, though?”

His jaw clenched, shoulders going rigid. His tone turned low and menacing. “Never suggest otherwise.”

Another passenger squeezed in, pouring a cup of tea from an urn on the table beside us. Flinching, Niffin seemed to remember himself, where he was, and who we were supposed to be—or more importantly, who we were not supposed to be. He slid his spectacles in place and drew me away from the refreshments table, away from prying eyes and curious ears.

“We can’t keep avoiding this issue.” I swallowed the last of my water and set my glass on an empty table. “If I had my way, I'd make you permanent residents of Inselgrau. You’re both valuable to me, but I’m afraid I’d only be making myself happy with that arrangement.”

“It is an honor to serve a queen.” He took my hand, bent his knee slightly, and pressed a dry kiss to my knuckle. “Especially if that queen is you.”

I drew my hand back, ignoring the wry grin playing on his face. “This standoff between you and Malita can’t keep going. It’s painful to watch. I can’t imagine how painful it must be to endure firsthand.” I drew in a deep breath, carefully considering my next words. “I'm afraid I have to insist, no matter what Justina said, that once we finish our business in Steinerland, you’ll take Malita home. The decision of what you should do after that is up to the both of you.”

I met his hard amethyst gaze and raised my chin. “You’re always welcome in my home, Niffin, wherever that home winds up being. I’d be honored to have you as my diplomat, but I’d give you freedom to come and go at your will. You’d never be kept away from your people, as long as you were there to help me when I needed it.”