Page 49 of Realm of Thieves

Then he straightens up and looks around my cabin, his expression becoming more stern. “You should probably get changed into your armor and be ready to go in about ten minutes. Once we get through the wards, the ship will drop us off as close to the shore as possible. I know Toombs doesn’t want to anchor the boat within the wards—he’s paranoid about dragons roasting the mast and setting the ship on fire.”

I hadn’t even thought about that.

Andor leaves the cabin and it’s only when he’s shut the door that I let out a whimper and curl up into a ball on the berth again. I let myself deal with the pain and breathe through it for a few minutes, using breathing techniques Ellestra taught me, and try to stay focused on the real task at hand, which is getting back to her.

Even if Andor keeps his word, I can’t rely on that. From what I’ve learned about him over the last month, I don’t think he means me any harm, nor would he purposely let any harm come to me. But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t use me for his own endeavors. His father has a strong hold on him, whether Andor knows it or not, and I’m just some girl he took to give his family a better hold on the black market. He’s driven, despite his nonchalant attitude, and I think he will do everything he can to succeed.

So I have to think about this egg raid in entirely different terms. I’ll help Andor get his eggs. But then Lemi and I will need to escape. Somehow. Maybe I can get my hands on the tranquilizing serum that Steiner made for the dragons. It saved us the last time. I just have to figure out how much to inject Andor with so that it either knocks him out or makes him easier to manipulate, and to do it somewhere where I’m not putting his life in danger. I want to be free, but if I can avoid killing him, I will.

Or…I could just leave him to the blooddrages. I’m sure he’d be able to fight them off eventually. We could use the opportunity to escape. Head back to the rowboat and start rowing along the coast. If the weather cooperates we could stay hidden in the volcanic fog, shielded from the sight of the dragons inside the wardsandthe ship outside the wards.

That’s as good a plan as any.

I get dressed in my armor—a formerly tedious process made much more efficient by all the hidden straps, ties, and buttons engineered by Steiner—then start strapping on the sheaths that go on my back. I braid my hair back tightly and knot it at the nape of my neck, then grab my ash-glass swords and slide them there. Then finally I pull on my leather breeches and boots. I know I should feel more powerful than I do in my new armor, but I don’t. If anything I’m slightly self-conscious over how my stomach is accentuated at the moment thanks to the war going on inside my womb, and the pain still throbs in the forefront, no matter how hard I try to ignore it.

Lemi looks at me, ears askew, and I attempt a smile.

“Silly things to be worried about,” I tell him. “I’ll be okay. I just need to be strong. I’ve done this before.”

At that I stand up, grab my overnight pack, and start taking what I might need for the journey back to the Dark City. I eye the dresses that the Kolbecks’ seamstress made for me and wish I could take them along, but I would stand out like a sore thumb in them. The high life was just a temporary world. All I really need is what I’m wearing, the poppy resin, and some food.

I leave my cabin and head into the galley without managing to see anyone. I go through the pantry, taking the lightest but most nutrient-rich food: almonds, dried sliced beef and strips of salted cod, and dried apples, and fill my canteen with water from the jug. Then I grab some fresh fish that was left on the counter and toss it to Lemi for good measure. He wolfs it down in seconds flat, leaving no evidence except fishy dog breath.

By the time I head up the stairs to the deck, we’re just passing through the wards, the familiar prickling sensation making the hair at the back of my neck stand on end. My mouth goes dry as adrenaline surges through me, my pulse quickening, my stomach doing flips. Even Lemi gives an impatient whine, his tail wagging at the prospect of doing his job again.

It’s hard to tell the time because of the glow from the volcanoes perpetually lighting up the sky while the fog and ash smoke darkens it. I know it should be the late afternoon but it could be the middle of the night for all I see. Though I’ve been to this part of the Midlands a few times before, it seems foreign this time. Probably because I’m not alone.

While Toombs is back at the helm, the rest of the crew are all gathered at the bow as we head into the harbor, with Kirney at the base of the ship’s bolt thrower. The giant crossbow was crafted specially to defend against incoming dragon attacks, with spears and arrows big enough to take down a flying beast. It’s an intimidating weapon and one that will safeguard the ship until we get ashore. For the first time, I feel like House Kolbeck knows what they’re doing.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Andor says, patting the gigantic crossbow with affection as he walks over to me. With the breeze blowing his dark hair back and the sparks and embers in the air behind him, he looks like he’s in his element, like he was born here on in this wild, inhospitable land and somehow survived—and thrived.

Just like earlier, a strange fluttering sensation happens in my chest, like I’ve forgotten to breathe for a moment.

I swallow it down and force a smile.

“She’s very dangerous looking,” I tell him. “I hope you won’t have to use it.”

After hearing Torsten blather on and on about the house and their history of dragon hunting, I know that killing the beasts is in Andor’s nature, even if it’s just out of survival, but there’s always been something about it that rubs me the wrong way. I fear dragons. I’ve escaped death many times. And yet all those times I did what I could to not kill them. Killing them out of anything but absolute necessity feels wrong, like killing a dog.

“Me too,” he says. He looks down at Lemi, and then his eye pauses at the pack I have on my shoulder. Something dark comes over hisgaze for a moment, then vanishes before he looks back to me, his eyes seeming to glow in the firelight. “Are we ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

He nods and yells for the boys to get the rowboat ready.

They work fast and in no time, Andor, Lemi, and I and our gear are lowered to the sea. The waves are still rolling in, but at least we’re far enough from the shore that they’re not breaking over us.

Then we’re set loose from the ship and Andor starts rowing us to shore.

“Are you nervous?” he asks.

“I always get nervous before a raid,” I tell him. “Don’t you?”

“Every time. But then again, there’s nothing else quite like it. Nothing else that makes you feel so damn alive.” He pauses, his mouth curving up. “Other than sex, of course.”

He’s joking, so I laugh and ignore the heat flooding my cheeks. I blame it on the wind that’s blowing the fires off the distant volcanoes. “Other than that,” I tell him, staring at the artistic way that the lava flows have sculpted the shoreline and not at the heat in his own eyes. The last thing I need right now on top of everything I’m feeling and everything I have planned is to start thinking about sex. And especially not sex with Andor, someone I hopefully won’t see again after tonight.

I cough and pull up the extra fabric that’s sewn into the neck of my armor, having forgotten what it’s like to breathe the Midlands air. “So,” I say, my voice muffled by the cloth. “I suppose House Dalgaard has one of those bolt throwers too. And what about House Haugen?”

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