Page 37 of Return of the Vengeful Quee

The Rakuuna blinked, and Charis gritted her teeth. How much of that had he understood?

“She means if you kill us, the rebellion gets bad.” Reuben stepped forward, his wiry body somehow managing to look threatening even in the face of the monster before him.

“Rebellion bad?” The Rakuuna looked at the group and then chittered to the others in their language.

“King Alaric won’t give you what you want if you kill his family,” Grim said, the boldness of his words somewhat marred by the shakiness in his voice.

The Rakuuna spoke rapidly among themselves for a moment, and then the leader said, “We take all and sink the ship. Go.”

Before any of them could react, each Rakuuna grabbed the humans closest to them and flung them over the railing and into the sea. The bearded Rakuuna wrapped his chilly webbed fingers around Charis’s arms, lifted her as though she was a feather, and dove into the water with her in his grasp.

The shock of the icy water stole the breath in her lungs, and then she was plunging forward beneath the waves, dragged at incredible speed by the lead Rakuuna. In his other hand, he held Holland’s wrist.

She needed air. Desperately. Fighting the Rakuuna’s grip on her, she kicked and flailed, straining for the surface. The male turned his head, translucent skin glowing beneath the waves, dark eyes evaluating her struggles. Finally he soared upward, breaking the surface with a splash and pulling Charis and Holland up with him. They were beside a gray-green, barnacle-encrusted hull.

She choked on sea water, coughing and retching until she was hoarse. Before she could properly catch her breath or look to see if the rest of her crew had avoided drowning, she was hauled unceremoniously up the side of the ship and dumped onto the deck.

In seconds, Holland was dumped beside her. All around, she heard thuds as other crew members were tossed onto the ship. She drew in a ragged breath, coughed again, and then turned to make sure Holland was in one piece. His black hair was plastered to his face, and he was coughing violently, but he was alive.

A tremendous crack split the air, and she clambered to her feet, her clothes sticking to her, rivulets of water pouring out of her hair. In the distance, her little smuggler’s ship rocked violently. The main mast was slowly falling toward the sea, still tangled in the rigging. As she watched, a swarm of pale bodies climbed out of the sea and up the sides, tearing chunks out of the boards and tossing them into the water.

Her eyes stung and a lump formed in her throat as the boat listed hard to port and began to sink.

“We go to Calera now,” the bearded Rakuuna spoke from behind her. “You and other royals stay in rooms. Go this hallway, the deck, and the dining hall, but nowhere else. Try nothing against us, or die.”

She watched her boat sink until all that remained was a constellation of debris floating on the swells, and then slowly turned to face her captor. He smiled again, and she returned his smile as viciously as she knew how.

His smile disappeared. “To the rooms.”

Latching on to her arm, he reached for Holland as well and dragged them both down the stairs and into a long corridor with a mess hall at one end and twelve cabin doors staggered at regular intervals. “You and your heir live here.” He flung open the first door, as other Rakuuna dumped her crew members into adjacent cabins.

“I stay with my queen—with my niece,” Reuben said firmly.

The Rakuuna who held his arm ignored him, shoving him into the cabin beside Charis’s. She and Holland tumbled into the room, and the door slammed shut behind them.

Shut but not locked. As the Rakuuna had said—they were free to wander about the ship. What did it matter? The Rakuuna believed they had no reason to fear the humans. They’d even left them with their weapons.

She pressed her arm against her belt, where her small satchel of moriarthy dust hung limply.

The Rakuuna didn’t know it yet, but they had plenty of reason to fear her.

A whisper of sound behind her had her spinning to face the inside of the cabin. The world tilted, and her breath seemed to scorch her lungs as Tal walked into view.

Fourteen

TIME STOOD STILL for seconds, minutes, years.

He looked thinner, and his blond hair was long enough to brush past his shoulders now, but he was alive, and the punch of relief she felt was a bitter pill to swallow.

Tal made a sound as though someone had knocked the air out of his lungs.

A tremor shook Charis, sending an ache through her veins that throbbed in her fingertips. She wanted to cry. To throw herself into his arms. To strike him hard enough that he would know some fraction of the pain she was feeling. To scream her rage until her throat was raw. How could grief, anger, and love become such a tangled knot, impossible to separate?

He’d read it on her face. He always had. And she’d rather be dragged beneath the water by a Rakuuna than appear vulnerable to him.

Desperately, she reached for some semblance of control. Pressing her lips together in a thin, firm line, she met his brown eyes as though the sight of him meant nothing.

Less than nothing.

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