Page 35 of Return of the Vengeful Quee

Tears glittered in his eyes, and he bowed low. “It’s an honor to be your subject, Your Majesty.”

When Orayn was across the ramp, her crew disengaged from the pirate vessel and then turned to her. “All of you except Lord Farragin and Reuben, to the oars. Full speed ahead.”

It took four hours to navigate their way through the warren of tunnels and back onto the open sea. Snakes rose, coiling and hissing along the tunnel ledges. Charis spent the entire time hunched over the map Orayn left for her, carefully choosing her course while Reuben worked the depth finder to keep them from running aground, and Holland remained on guard in case a snake fell onto the deck.

With only half their usual rowing crew they moved slowly, and the strain of knowing what waited for them once they cleared the cave stretched Charis’s nerves to the breaking point. She focused on the map, whispering calculations to herself as she made small adjustments based on Reuben’s depth finder. It was better to focus on one curve, one tunnel, one small turn of the helm than to think about the Rakuuna.

When at last the dim haze of the tunnels began to lighten, and the map before her showed the exit, Charis’s knees gave out. She sank to the deck in front of the helm, her body shaking as though a hurricane was trapped within.

It was impossible to think, to stand, to breathe.

There was a ringing in her ears. A pressure in her chest.

She wanted Calera. She wanted Father.

She wanted Tal.

The thought of Tal in the midst of her panic lit a fuse in the corner of her heart where she kept her rage. He’d betrayed her trust and broken her heart. He didn’t deserve to be the last person she thought about before she faced her enemy.

“Take my hand, Your Majesty.” Reuben stood beside her, hard eyes pinned to hers, his hand extended.

She pressed her lips together in a thin line. She was queen of Calera. She did not go to meet her fate huddled on the ground like a baby rabbit frightened of a hawk. She was the hawk, and the Rakuuna were her prey. They might be about to swallow her whole, but she was the poison that would kill them from the inside out.

“Your Majesty, the exit is approaching.” Reuben’s voice held the same implacable expectation of perfection that Mother’s had.

Charis was not going to face the Rakuuna looking anything less than the queen she’d been raised to be. Ignoring Reuben’s hand, she climbed to her feet, grabbed the helm with fingers as cold as the sea itself, and raised her chin.

As the bow pierced the curtain of vines that hung over the exit, Holland braced his feet, prepared for an immediate attack. Charis and Reuben did the same.

Wintery sunlight gilded the deck in a wash of pale gold as the boat nosed its way out of the cave and onto the open sea. A stiff wind snatched at the mast, filling it almost immediately. Charis squinted against the light and searched the seas around them. They were empty.

“We’ve come out the other side, Your Majesty,” Reuben said. “It’s possible the Rakuuna ship is still by the entrance.”

“It’s possible,” she said, though that made little sense. It was more likely that her enemy hadn’t been sure which gap they’d sail from as there were multiple options on every side of the mountain. “We act like all is normal. Call up the rowers. I want the masts filled while I plot a course south.”

Holland stalked the starboard side, searching the water beneath them for trouble while Reuben called the rowers to the deck.

“Anything?” Charis called to Holland.

“Not even a baby kraken.” He sounded disappointed, and for once she understood.

It was agony to wait for what they knew was coming. It was even worse to wonder if the Rakuuna would miss the bait and go for the other ship instead.

As the rowers rushed onto the deck, Holland issued orders to trim the sails and secure the rigging. They hurried to obey, though their faces were grim and their voices muted.

Charis adjusted the helm, turning the ship to catch enough wind to push them south. Maybe this was better. They could put distance between themselves and the other ship so that there was even less chance of the Rakuuna remaining near the basilisk cave once they came for Charis.

She was just making a final adjustment, fighting hard to keep the ship from drifting into the rapid current of the western sea, when Holland shouted, “Ship, ahoy!”

An instant later, something thudded against their vessel, sending Charis tumbling to her knees as the boat rocked precariously. Her crew grabbed their weapons and shouted to each other, rallying beside Holland, whose dark eyes were wild with the thrill of facing death.

Charis scrambled to her feet as a high-pitched wail pierced the air, sending an ache through her teeth and scraping against her eardrums. As the wail tapered off into a sound like dry bones tumbling across cobblestones, a long, nearly translucent hand grabbed the railing on the port side of the ship.

“Port side!” Charis yelled, abandoning the helm and drawing her sword.

Holland and her crew pivoted as a Rakuuna with long, ragged, gray-white hair, a beard that reached his waist, and gleaming black eyes leaped onto the deck. Three more immediately followed, their too-long limbs making the task of scaling the boat and flinging themselves over the railing look easy.

“How dare you trespass upon the vessel of her Royal Majesty, Queen Charis Willowthorn!” Holland bellowed, his sword aimed at the first Rakuuna who’d come aboard.

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