Page 39 of Ozma

Ozma twisted her hands together. “Wait until we get on the boat, and I’ll explain everything.”

Jack clenched his jaw and nodded. What were a few more hours when he probably didn’t want to know anyway?

Chapter Seventeen

Ozma

Ozma and Jack trekked through the forest until midday. With each step, the map in her veins pulsed, pointing her toward the sea, her destination. Hours ago, they’d crossed into Hiland, but it seemed no different than Loland, only more dips and even taller trees covered in leaves the size of Ozma’s head.

She hadn’t spoken to Jack, and he hadn’t spoken to her. The silence between them was tangible, and she knew he had questions. But he wasn’t the only one—she did too. The night before flashed in her head—his mouth on hers, her body pressed to his, her attempting to use his true name to forget.

How could she have done that? But it would have been for him. Perhaps it was unfair for her to have even tried that, but she loved him enough to let him go.

Now he knew who she was, though. She should have known it couldn’t be kept a secret forever. And he’d been right about one thing. If she’d truly wanted him to be free, then why had she come back for him? Why hadn’t she realized it would’ve been better to let him be? Either way, she’d always known she had to free him from Mombi. She’d spent the last two years thinking about her reunion with Jack. A childish dream.

The quiet—his quiet, her quiet—spread and spread around her until it became too much. She opened her mouth to finally speak when he grasped her arm, pulling her to a stop.

“I hear it,” Jack said, biting his lip as he stared ahead.

“Hear what?” She drew out her dagger from her hip and lifted it. They were so close to the shore and she didn’t want to be slowed down again.

“The ocean.” Jack released her arm and took a step forward. “Do you hear it too?”

She tilted her head and perked her ears. When an almost magical sound floated around her, she lowered her dagger. The lapping of water against shore, sea birds cawing, the wind singing. “It’s beautiful.”

A smile spread across Jack’s cheeks, reminding her of how he’d been before she’d gone to the dark place. “Remember when we talked about seeing the sea one day?” he asked.

“One day we’ll visit the sea, and I’ll worship your body in it until you’ve come as many times as you wish, not caring who sees us fuck.”

Tip felt his cheeks heat. “I hope that’s a promise.”

“Oh, it’s more than that,” Jack said, swiping his tongue against the glistening pearl at the head of Tip’s cock, then placing his lips around the length.

Ozma swallowed hard, the memory drawing a warmth in her like it did back then. “Did you still plan on coming here?”

“No…” The smile fell from his face. And she knew it was because he hadn’t wanted to go alone, without her.

Something about seeing that broken expression made her heart hurt. She was here now, and they would look upon the sea together. Perhaps not worship each other’s bodies there, at least not this time.

“Well”—Ozma shoved him playfully—“looks like I’ll be seeing it first.”

His lips parted and his eyes widened. With a laugh, she took off at a heavy sprint, just as she used to do when they would race to the lake.

“You’re such a cheat!” Jack yelled.

She threw her head back and laughed again when a few curses flew from his lips. Clumped branches decorating the ground slowed her pace. As she was about to regain her lead, Jack’s strong arms gripped her waist, lifting and whirling her around. After setting her down, he took off, chuckling.

“You!” she screamed, skirting around trees and ducking under branches, until she finally caught up with him.

Ozma yanked him to her by the back of his tunic, and they both stopped when voices echoed ahead.

“The port,” she said, heading in the direction of the sounds, shoving aside shrubbery blooming with fragrant red and black berries.

The world before her opened to a silver sea, reflecting the sun’s rays, and a gasp escaped her mouth. It was nothing like she’d imagined and more amazing than she could have believed. Ships and rafts of all colors lined the sparkling water, the soft swells bobbing them in a rhythmic motion. Glittery golds, sparkling blues, shimmery pinks. All with bright white sails flapping in the wind. Numerous fae carrying crates or barrels loaded up their ships for travel. Other fae delivered their supplies by foot, stag, or wagon.

“We have to find out which ship is heading for Orkland and sneak on board.” She surveyed the area, reading the names on the sides of several green ships flecked with yellow.

“Not a raft.” Jack squinted and pointed straight ahead. “I think that’s our prize.”

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