Page 17 of Of the Stars and Sea

And still I stand here. Unmoving.

“One more word from you and two more of your crew will die tonight.” Grayson’s face is cold as stone as the men behind Blythe shift on their feet, looking nervously at their captain. “You may revel in the shadows of this world, Blythe Quint, but even shadows cower in the face of true darkness.” Grayson’s lips curl up in a snarl. “The kind of darkness I will unleash on this world should you make one more move to separate me from my prize.”

A true fool, Blythe’s lips part with unspoken words, and just the movement itself sends Grayson’s hand signaling to his mate behind him.

The promise kept, two more of Blythe’s men go down. Two small silver throwing knives protrude from each of their throats. A perfect mark.

My mouth goes dry and my tongue darts out between my lips to wet them.

Red splotches appear on Blythe’s cheeks and neck as his head shakes with fear. He knows he’s cornered. That Grayson’s men not only outnumber him and his crew, but he is outmatched in skill.

A shark being met with a kraken.

I almost smile as Blythe concedes by taking a step back and bowing his head. Not a single mutter of breath leaves his lips this time as he and his crew shuffle away with their tails between their legs. The portrait of defeat.

Though, I know better. The one thing Blythe cannot stand is to have his pride injured. He may walk away for now, but Grayson will have a nuisance at his back the moment Blythe rallies his crew.

Grayson dips his hands into his pockets and watches them go. Then his otherworldly eyes shift back to me.

“You have it?” he asks, and I know he means the Serpent’s Key.

I do nothing. Wondering if there is any way I might get out of this with my life intact.

He steps so close to me my chest almost brushes against him and then he leans down, the smell of salt and something more tickles my nose. I try not to breathe him in. Try not to close my eyes as the gentle breeze brushes tendrils of his hair against my cheek. Goosebumps rise along my flesh.

“Careful, Little Pearl. No one who has ever defied me continues to carry breath in their lungs.” His words are hot against my ear and when he pulls back, he smiles at me. The crease of his scar deepens and I find myself wanting to reach out to touch it—the threat of danger luring me in.

“Always chasing after trouble,” my mother used to say.“You’re just like your father.”

And now my father is dead.

I look into Grayson’s dancing irises, noticing the stars amongst the moving tide and whatever darkness he possesses calls to me. Like a flame lit in the night, beckoning me toward the shore after being lost for years at sea. A longing I’ve never known—as deadly as a siren’s call.

Then it breaks, like a shattering glass fallen to the floor. A thousand little pieces shoot out in all directions and I’m left feeling empty.

“I have it,” I finally whisper. Peering down at the pocket of my coat, I place an open palm over the right side, feeling the hard brunt of metal underneath.

“Show it to me,” he breathes. There’s an edge of urgency to his words, but his face is a stone of secrecy. Not even a flutter to give away what he’s thinking.

Glancing back to Amara and Wells, they both shake their heads at me. Both of them stand there—Amara with her hand on her pistol and Wells’s hand on his sword—ready to fight for the one chance we have at freedom.

But what choice doIhave?

Three against Grayson’s entire crew? We wouldn’t stand a chance.

Knowing our freedom from Red Beard and the consequences of my father’s indiscretions hangs in the balance, I reach into my coat and retrieve the Serpent’s Key. The gold box feels heavy in my hands as I extend the shiny trinket toward Grayson. He rolls his shoulders back, his nostrils flare, but he makes no move to take it from me.

“Is this not what you killed Blythe’s men for? Is this not the Serpent’s Key?” I ask, the defeat in my voice a cold reminder of everything my crew and I have lost tonight.

Grayson doesn’t take his eyes off it. Emotion flits across his face, but I cannot read it. Frustration licks up my spine the longer he stares at the trinket and the heavier the weight of it grows against my hand, snaking up to my wounded shoulder.

But I don’t dare retreat my open palm. Instead, I take stock of the golden box. Legends of old have told us a great many things about the key to Thaeto’s treasure. None of them, however, mentioned that the key wasn’t a key at all, but a small rectangular box made of solid gold. Along the sides are small lines that dart out in all directions—crevices really. On the top of the box is a depiction of the Divine Trinity constellation.

Olayra and her husband Viryon were Goddess and God of the Heavens. Olayra’s star has a halo surrounding it, representing her rule over the moon. While Viryon’s star has tiny lines emerging all the way around it, indicating his rule over the sun. Below them, their children are represented by two distinct stars. Thaeto, God of the Sea. And his younger brother, Ujun, God of the Land.

Along the top edge is a long script written in the old language. The letters are etched into the gold. I turn the box over and run my finger across them. “One is made of salt and water.One is made of earth and fire. Together, they could have ruled a thousand lifetimes. Apart, the world lies in ruin.”

When I look up, Grayson eyes me with curiosity. “You can read the old language.”

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