Page 102 of Fearless

“Silver Savior!”

“Silver Savior!”

And I might have liked the sound of it.

I’ve never been so relieved to set foot in Ilya.

Mostly because I’m looking forward to standing on something solid without the worry of it caving in beneath my feet.

The ship is in ruin, and it has been for the last two days. Only by the strength of Elites has it managed to reach Ilya’s dock. With nearly half the crew lost to the sea and the beast dwelling within it, surviving this final stretch of the Shallows was no simple task. Teles worked in shifts to hold the most vital pieces of the ship together with their minds while Gusts blew a constant stream of air into the torn sails. Any excess weight was thrown overboard in an attempt to help keep us afloat, leaving only bread and water to fill our stomachs.

I lean against one of the only remaining chunks of railing, readying to spring out of the way if the boards beneath my feet give way—which they have done on several terrifying occasions. The hull groans in agony against the waves, as though begging for a swift sinking into the sea. Even theReckoningpleads for rest.

I keep my gaze on the approaching dock even as Kai comes to stand beside me. My voice is quiet. “Do you think he’s down there?”

Kai’s gray gaze falls to the cluster of bodies awaiting us on the rickety moor, their faces blurry from this distance. “Kitt?”

I nod coolly.

A shake of his head. “I hope not. It’s dangerous for him to be so exposed without me. But”—his sigh is weary—“he probably is.”

Thoughts spill from my mouth. “I don’t think he wants to be looked after.”

“He should be grateful that someone cares enough to do so,” Kai retorts stiffly. “Not all of us had that luxury.”

I turn toward him, taking in the stony expression he now wears. “Why did your father treat you two so differently?”

The question seems to surprise him. “We had very different roles in life.”

“I know, but…” I grapple for the right words and try again. “He could have tutored Kitt with the same callousness and hate that he trained you with. I mean, that is why your brother still cares for the king you hated.” My eyes wander back to the approaching dock. “You knew different versions of the same man.”

“That is exactly why Kitt never fully understood my disdain for Father,” Kai adds quietly. “Why he lived to please him while I lived to spite him.”

I smile slightly. “Is that why you chose to spend so much time with me during the Trials? To spite him?”

He seems to weigh his words carefully. “Among many other reasons.” I roll my eyes before he adds, “Although, I always thought it was odd how boldly Kitt befriended you. Father hated that I was associated with you, so for Kitt to go against the king’s wishes because of you…” He shakes his head. “It was unexpected.”

“And now he’s marrying the Ordinary your father hated,” I murmur. “The same one that killed him.”

Kai takes a deep breath. “Kitt has always feared failing our father. But I think… I think he also fears turning into the one I hated. Along with that letter Kitt found, your fight with the king may have helped him see reason.” He shrugs slightly. “The king came after you out of hatred for what you are not.”

I glance over at him. “And you believe me about that?”

“After that battle at the Bowl, the Sight who witnessed your fightmet with Kitt and me privately.” He looks over at me, grief in his gaze. “We watched some of what happened. With the rain, we couldn’t make out what was being said, and Kitt couldn’t bear to watch more than a minute of it.”

It is then that I see his grief is not for the king I killed. But for me and everything I endured by his hand. I blink, bewildered by this new information. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You still killed the king,” Kai answers evenly. “Kitt was still angry. So was the kingdom. At the end of the day, you were still a murderer.” His eyes flick over me. “And I wanted to hear your side of the story, because we still didn’t know what really happened.”

I’ve now buried that vicious fight in the darkest depths of my mind. It sits among the bloody pool in which my father lies, right next to an image of too-short curly bangs and the unseeing hazel eyes beneath.

Unanswered questions swirl near that dark corner, drifting in and out of my thoughts. One belongs to the true identity of my parents while another lies within that battle against the king—his motives and confessions equally confusing. Adena’s presence in that final Trial never fails to keep me up at night, mocking me in my dreams with ways I might have saved her.

I swallow. “He all but told me that the Ordinaries’ disease was a lie, you know.”

There is a long pause filled only with the sound of a slapping sea. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Would you have believed me?” I counter.

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