Page 55 of Return of the Vengeful Quee

The captain’s black eyes stared unblinkingly at Reuben, and then he said, “Eat.”

Charis bit her tongue and shot Holland a look as the captain raised the satchel to Reuben’s mouth. She had no idea if moriarthy dust was safe for humans to eat. If it wasn’t, Reuben was about to die a horrible death, and her plan to poison the Rakuuna invaders would be revealed.

The satchel met Reuben’s lips. He clenched his fists but slowly opened his mouth. The powder spilled across his tongue, and he grimaced, though Charis couldn’t tell if it was from pain or from the taste.

The entire room seemed to hold its breath as Reuben struggled to swallow the gritty dust. Finally he opened his mouth for the captain to see that the powder had gone down harmlessly. Charis slowly unclenched her hands, relieved. It didn’t affect humans the way it affected the Rakuuna. That gave Nalani more options for the barrels of poison Orayn was bringing her.

Slowly the captain swung his face from Reuben to Charis. His head swiveled to the side as he studied her for a long moment. She kept her hands open and her expression neutral, though her mind was racing.

He wasn’t convinced.

“Search other rooms,” he said to his crew.

Behind him, Ayve made an awful gurgling noise in the back of her throat and slumped against the floor.

“May we tend our wounded?” Tal asked in the soft, nonthreatening voice he’d used to lure Hildy from her hiding place in the orchard where he and Charis had found her.

The captain shifted his focus to Tal. “That one touch stew.” He pointed to Ayve.

“She was helping in the kitchen this morning,” Tal said. “But you’ve seen for yourself that we have no way to hurt you—”

“Hurt!” The Rakuuna grabbed Tal’s chin and wrenched his face toward the sight of the two now-dead Rakuuna with their throats still oozing black blood. “Never before.”

“Can we help?” Dec asked. His voice was as quiet and controlled as always, but there was a tension in his body Charis had never seen before.

He was scared the captain was going to kill the prince he was supposed to protect.

“Two dead Rakuuna,” the captain said in a voice as vicious as Charis at her best. “Two dead human. Same.”

“Same,” Tal agreed.

The other Rakuuna returned to the room and spoke in their own language to the captain. Abruptly, the captain released Tal and turned back to Charis.

“No more up here. Live below.”

Before she could respond, the Rakuuna grabbed them and hauled them into the corridor where her other crew members were already lined up waiting. In moments, they’d all been dragged into the belly of the ship and locked in the brig.

Twenty-One

DAYS TURNED INTO weeks as the ship sailed south with the Calerans trapped in its belly. It was hard to keep track of time in the brig. There were no windows in the long, rectangular cage that spanned half the length of the ship. Moldy mattresses and thin, rough blankets were scattered about, and there was a privy pail and a small table with two chairs bolted to the floor.

Charis estimated they’d been down there for nearly three weeks. They had to be getting close to making port in Calera, and the chasm that had opened within her the night of the invasion felt large enough to swallow her whole. Every hour that passed seemed to tighten the pressure in her chest, until her heartbeat was frantic, feverish.

She would see her kingdom again.

And then she would die.

At least she’d be with her parents again soon. But before that happened, she had to be sure Nalani had the information about what the Rakuuna were after and why, and about how to use the poison. And, seers curse him, the only person in the brig she was sure the Rakuuna queen didn’t plan to kill was Tal.

King Alaric might not have rescued his youngest son, but even the Rakuuna must understand that murdering the son of the man you hope to extort jewels from was a poor strategic decision.

That meant that Charis and Tal needed to have a conversation, something she’d been avoiding at all costs. However, ignoring him because she didn’t want to appear vulnerable was one thing. Refusing to talk to him when he could help her keep her promises to her people would be foolish.

As most of the crew settled onto their mattresses for yet another period of rest—they had no idea if it was dark outside—Charis forced herself to approach Tal and say quietly, “Would you join me at the table?”

Instantly he was on his feet and moving toward the small table, where an assortment of discarded objects were strewn. Bits of fishing net, wire hooks, torn burlap sacks, and a few rusted tools—nothing helpful. The satchel Reuben had returned to her with its small amount of moriarthy dust was the only useful weapon in the entire brig.

She settled into a chair, expecting Tal to sit opposite her. Instead he leaned against the table itself, just to her left.

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