THE HAND ON MY CHEST WAS NOT ONE I RECOGNIZED. ETCHED IN
blurred, blue ink that might’ve once been bold tattoos, tipped by fingernails caked in dirt, and missing half a middle finger, the hand
rose into the air and slammed down on my chest again, dislodging more water from my lungs. It was all I could do to roll over, gagging and spitting onto the grass.
“Atta girl.”
I hacked again before air flooded my lungs. Humid, and scented with plumeria and algae.
Rubbing my eyes, I pushed to stand from the wet seagrass and nearly tumbled back into the vast expanse of water beside me: a lush, clear emerald lagoon, as deep as it was sprawling, produced by misty streams of water that cascaded down the rocky ravine I had fallen from.
A bird’s squawking pulled my eyes up, past the overrun canyon of verdant green and gushing blue and into a sky smudged with a few angry purple clouds. The sun had slipped behind one, making the edges glow. I searched for the ledge I had jumped from, but the limestone amphitheater’s cliffs were all the same and I couldn’t see where the cavern had expelled me.
I glanced back to the man who had saved my life. Scruffy hair framed a kind face creased from sun and wind and dirt, with brows both overgrown and patchy. Leather draped him, as well as colorful beaded necklaces and jewelry on both ears. His wide grin was populated by few teeth.
A pirate.
I crawled backward like a crab, only to knock my tailbone against someone’s boots. I flicked my gaze up.
More men. About seven or eight of them. In tunics and pants that had once been vibrant, with hats to block out the unforgiving sun on an open sea. Some had intricate tattoos so often seen in Peridot, others obscene piercings I hadn’t ever seen before through their noses and lips.
Where had Mari ended up? Not in this rocky clearing, evidently. I could only hope she had fared better than me and wasn’t lost in the jungle somewhere.
I scrambled to my feet and said, “Don’t touch me,” with as much strength as I could manage. My head pounded.
“That’s one way to thank a fella,” the first man replied, standing as well before stalking closer.
“I’m serious, come any closer and I’ll kill you.” Half-hearted male laughter echoed against the cliffs. “Leave her, mate,” someone called.
“Don’t you think if we wanted to harm you,” the man said, inching forward slowly like I was a skittish animal, “we woulda while you was sleeping?”
Realization struck me so fiercely it was like being pulled under the water once more. I grabbed at myself, my soaking pants and shirt, but nothing seemed out of place.
“Oh, Stones, we didn’t touch you. Just saved your bloody life.”
A twinge of embarrassment tickled my spine. They didn’t hurt me. They didn’t even leave me to drown. “Thank you.”
“Look! You found your manners. I’m Studs.”
I wrung my hair out with both hands as I said, “Arwen.”
“Pleasure. You really took that leap like you wasn’t afraid to die, Arwen.” Pride must have colored my expression because he shook his head at me. “Not a flattering thing, stupidity.”
A flush worked up my neck. “I didn’t have a choice.”
Studs didn’t seem to care much either way as he walked past me and back to his men.
I swept my attention over the clearing. I had never seen any of this before. The cliffs, the rolling hills, the lagoon. I had no clue where I was, or how I would find everyone else.
“Wait!” I called to Studs and his men, who were already heading off through the jungle. “Where are you all going?”
“Back to Smuggler’s Beach,” Studs said, halting. “We sail for Rose tomorrow.”
“You’re fleeing Peridot?”
A man with a face like a bulldog snarled at me. “We ain’t fleeing.”
“The land’s gone to shit since Amber stole the throne,” another added.
“I know you don’t owe me anything,” I started. “And you already saved my life. And then I accused you of . . . But might you help me find my camp? On your way, maybe?”
Studs mulled my offer over, stroking his chin and scrunching his nose. One of the men called, “How much coin do they got on ’em?”
“Because you were dry as bone,” another added sheepishly, his too-large hat tipping over his face, which he scrambled to right.
I folded my arms and stared daggers at Studs. “So you did touch me.” “Only to search you for coin.” He shrugged. “Didn’t touch none of your
frilly bits.”
I should have known riches would be the easiest way to a pirate’s heart. “I’m traveling with a wealthy lord. He will reward you handsomely for my safe return.” I had become such an excellent liar I was nearly vain about it.
Studs’s jaw tightened, but the gleam in his fellow men’s eyes was enough to tell me I had struck gold. “Where were they last?”
“In a jungle camp outside of Frog Eye.”
Studs chuckled. “We could have you there by sundown.” “I would be so grateful.”
He turned to his men. “One last night in Frog Eye before we go?”
 |
“WHO’S THIS LORD YOU JOURNEY WITH? YOUR HUSBAND?”
Studs tramped through a muddy puddle and I swerved to avoid the backsplash as I considered his question. The journey to Frog Eye would be hours. I didn’t want to trap myself in a web of lies, nor be too honest given my fugitive status. Better to keep the focus on them than on me. “Mhm. So what do you export? Jewels?”
Two men laughed like I was very naive and I cocked my head to Studs in silent question.
“We seem rich to you?”
I shook my head and hoped that was the least offensive way to answer. “Mainly spirits. Sometimes furs and pelts to the colder regions.”
A man in front of us with a knotted white beard scoffed. “That’s why we’re still working in our old age.”
“Settle down, Gage.”
“There are more lucrative endeavors is all I’m saying.” “It’s all you’re ever saying.”
I tilted my head. “Like what?”
“Nothing you should worry your pretty little head over.”
Gage barked another laugh at his captain. “You afraid the lass’ll faint?
Or squeal?”
All eyes fell to me, and a prickly sweat broke out across my back. There were only a few exports I could think of that would produce anything close to a squeal. I braced myself, even as I said, “Try me.”
Studs leaned in close, his breath hot and stale on the shell of my ear even in the jungle humidity, and said, “You ever heard of Faerie lighte?”
Horror swamped me. “No.”
“Course you haven’t. It’s not your fault. They don’t teach it in the fair lady classes I reckon you took.”
“What is it?” I asked, finding my voice as we climbed over the wide roots of a kapok tree.
“Type of witch called a Fae. Their power isn’t magic, but something they can pour right out like you and I piss. Sells for more coin than you could dream of in Smuggler’s Beach. Even more in the black markets of Rose and Garnet.”
Hadn’t Kane told me about this? The memories were fuzzy and saturated with spirit, but I remembered him explaining it to me once, in his wine cellar.
“It could be bottled and sold, used to fuel anything. It could heal, build, destroy.”
“But you don’t sell it, even though Gage wants you to?”
“Doesn’t seem right. Like selling blood. Men have to live by some kind of code, don’t they?”
“How do those that do even get it? From the witches called the Fae?”
“Curious little badger, aren’t you?” Studs said, mussing my hair roughly. “There are other men that hunt the Fae down. It’s a specific skill, the harvesting. And a perilous one. Those Fae are powerful things.”
Whatever harvesting was, it didn’t sound pleasant. My veins itched at the mental image of having my lighte drawn out of me against my will.
“So why don’t they—the harvesters—just sell the lighte themselves?
Keep all the profits?”
Studs made a clucking noise and I noticed a sparkle of silver there, embedded in his tongue. “You have to be known here in Smuggler’s Beach. Any old harvester can’t just walk up and sell their wares. Too many try to sell fake goods. My pop was a runner and seafarer, and his pop before him. I’ve built a booming business for myself with this crew. We run a tight ship
—get it?”
My answering laugh was surprisingly genuine. “Well, then, thank you again, for changing your schedule to accommodate me.”
“It’s no trouble at all. I like to take the slower route when I can. Spend another day in the jungle, in Frog Eye. Who knows how many days any of us got left? I like to look at the iguanas and things. See the pretty women. Drink the ale.”
“Why do you say that? Because Peridot is more dangerous now, you fear for your life?”
Studs’s laugh was a hard braying noise. “Stones, no. In our line of work, it’s always one wrong step and you’re missing an appendage.”
“And yet, you could be doing anything else, and you choose to smuggle.
Because it was your father’s business?”
“If I was a goatherd instead, then I’d be afraid of losing one of my goats. There’s always something to fear. That’s the price of doing anything worth doing.”
“That’s . . .” I smiled as I searched for the words. “Pretty poignant, Studs.”
Studs turned to face me as we rounded a banana tree. “And here you were thinking we were just a bunch of—”
A silver arrowhead flew through Studs’s eye, and warm, red blood splattered my face. Copper landed on my tongue. I spat at the ground over and over in shock—pure, horrifying shock—as the kind pirate crumpled to the grass beneath us.
Dead.
Ice cut through my veins at the sight.
The single arrow lodged in his skull. His still, slack mouth, mid- sentence.
Shouts of pain pulled my eyes from Studs—
The rest of the men had scattered, running for the mossy hills, the trees, the limestone cliffs—swords drawn, knives at the ready—but the hail of arrows rained down on most of them, wilting the men like roses in heat.
I could barely hear their screams over the ringing in my ears. I whirled into an armored breastplate, and my mind, my bones, shuddered. I knew it like my own leathers. The golden stone detailing, the rust-colored, intricate filigree.
Amber armor.
The soldier grabbed my shoulders and threw me to the ground, mud and pain blurring my vision as my head smacked the grass.
“We have to stop running into each other like this, Arwen.”
The voice registered so strangely in my heart. Like a comfort, warped by twisted, recurring nightmares. His boots strolled toward my face, which was held against the ground by another soldier above me. He crouched until I could see that white-blond hair.
“Halden?”
