Page 58 of Ozma

“I’m fine,” he assured her.Or I will be.As soon as someone took a needle and thread to him. And gave him the largest bottle of ale available—mostly to drink, but also to disinfect the cut.

Ozma pursed her lips. “You’re a horrible liar.”

He smirked. “I’m an astounding liar, Blossom. You just know me too well.”

“I do,” she agreed and glanced over her shoulder at the ship. “Why does it still feel so far away?”

Because we’re both fucking exhausted.

But he kept rowing. If he stopped, even for a moment, he wasn’t sure that he would find the strength to start again.

“You’re alive.” Tik-Tok popped his head over the side deck when they reachedThe Wizard. “And they say there’s no such thing as a miracle.”

Fucking asshat.“Just throw us a rope or something.”

A rope ladder almost immediately fell and slapped against the side of the ship. Jack grabbed the ladder and held it steady for Ozma. She climbed ahead of him, her wings spread wide as if helping her balance, and he scrambled up behind her.

Once on the deck, Jack collapsed to his knees and sucked in the salty air.Safe. Or, relatively. Tik-Tok was still suspicious as fuck and he knew from books that the sea was fickle. No one greeted them with weapons though, so it was a good start.

“Wings, eh?” Tik-Tok leaned nonchalantly against the side of the ship, staring at Ozma. His gaze landed on the bloody cloth covering her eye for a moment before returning to the feathered wings behind her. “Interesting.”

“We’ll be taking your quarters.” Ozma’s tone brokered no room for argument.

Tik-Tok lifted one brow. “You know, the last fae to have wings likethatwas a royal.”

“Don’t act like we didn’t tell you who she was,” Jack snapped.

“Oh, please.” Tik-Tok rolled his eyes. “If I had a coin for every fae claiming to be a true heir, I could dock my ship for life. But if you were going to kill the Wizard, I didn’t give two shits who you were. Whatever allowed me to start calling my ship by her rightful name again and get the fuck away from Orkland.The Temptresssounds more pleasant to the ears thanThe Wizard, doesn’t it?”

Ozma ignored his comment about his ship’s name. “Why make that deal with me, then? For the unborn child?”

“Bad odds are still odds, Your Highness.” He tossed a key at her and gave a flourishing bow. “My rooms are yours until we reach the mainland.”

“A healer.” Jack got to his feet and stumbled slightly. “And food.”

“Is that a request?” Tik-Tok asked. He caught a brownie by the back of her shift. “Hoist the anchor.”

“A demand,” Jack clarified. “Something substantial.”

He laughed. “You’re on a pirate ship, my grungy little carrot.” Then he strode across the deck, stopping crewmembers every so often to bark out an order. “Kaliko! See to their wounds.”

An older brownie with crooked fingers hobbled over, gave them each a once over, and made a softhmmsound. “Don’t move.”

As if he had anywhere to go besides Tik-Tok’s quarters. Still, he plunked down on a large wooden barrel and waited. Ozma did the same, tucking her wings into her back. The brownie returned with a leather sack a few minutes later.

“I can’t say this won’t hurt,” he said, plunging his hand inside the sack.

“Wonderful,” Jack mumbled. Then a splash of liquid hit his wound and he clenched his jaw tight to keep himself from screaming.

Ozma wrapped her hand around his and gave a reassuring squeeze. He forced a smile for her benefit and swallowed a groan as the brownie began poking at the skin around the gash. However painful it was for him, her eye would be worse.

“You should drink this now so it starts working while I stitch this one up,” the brownie said to Ozma. He tossed a bottle at her. “It’ll numb you up.”

“I don’t get any?” Jack asked.

The brownie scowled as he resumed his painful examination. “It’s a flesh wound.”

I’ll show you a flesh wound.