They all shot straight up as wood slammed into wood and their ship creaked loudly, the sound rushing right through her, as another lined up with it.
Loche elegantly jumped onto their own, but it wasn’t his serious face that had her rip her hand from Merrick’s and sprint toward the other ship.
A mess of blonde hair glittered behind him, and tears flooded her eyes when Amalise’s blue ones met her own.
Lessia didn’t care about anything within her body that hurt as she sprinted right into her friend’s arms, slamming them both into the deck.
Wetness touched Amalise’s cheeks as well as she hugged Lessia, and as she pulled back, the words Lessia knew Amalise meant to be playful instead carried a sorrowful note as they came out. “You look like shit.”
Lessia forced a smile, easily picking up the jargon she and Amalise had perfected over the years to hide their pain. “Not all of us had the pleasure of hiding away in a cave with a hot man.”
She cast her eyes to Zaddock, who jumped from the other vessel to their own, seemingly very bothered by Lessia’s hurtling Amalise into the boards, judging by his dark, drawn-down brows.
Amalise’s cheeks heated, and she mumbled something incoherent before apparently gaining control of her features and pushing Lessia off her.
After getting to her feet, her friend pulled her up, although not as gently as Merrick had done before, and Lessia winced as the movement made the bandage scrape against her still open wounds.
“Sorry, sorry!” Amalise rushed out.
When Lessia waved dismissively, Amalise grinned, something mischievous glittering in her eyes.
“Well… on the topic of men. I heard quite the opposite… I heard you got yourself a very hot man. Or maybe I should say male?”
Lessia couldn’t stop her eyes from seeking out Merrick’s, and sure enough, his waited for her, love still filling them even after their argument.
“I did,” she said softly.
Amalise’s eyes widened for only a second before she pulled Lessia to her and slung an arm over her shoulder.
“Finally,” Amalise whispered, almost as if to herself, as she started steering them toward the group.
“If you’re done with all the man talk…” Raine threw them a forced smile, his eyes moving from Lessia to Merrick, worry still filling them. “What did you mean, regent?”
Cold crawled across her skin when she accidentally met Loche’s eyes, and her smile faded at what she saw in them.
Pain.
Anger.
Hurt.
Confusion.
She didn’t know which emotion in his storming grays was worse. But his turning away from her when she made to take a step toward him, moving to stand farther away, was like taking a slap to the face.
“I’ve heard from my spies in Vastala that the wyverns live near some place sacred to the Fae and your gods? The mirrors something? That you can call upon the gods there and get answers. Maybe you can ask how Lessia can do this without dying?”
Lessia swallowed at the fear that sneaked its way into Loche’s voice, and she didn’t dare look at Merrick, already sensing she’d find the same fear in his eyes.
“The Lakes of Mirrors,” Kerym mused. “No one has been there in centuries.”
“For good reason,” Thissian broke in. “The gods can’t be trusted. They may not be able to lie, but they twist the truth until you don’t know where in the world you are anymore. It’s a dangerous place.”
“But they allow us to speak to the gods?” Frelina asked, her voice not wavering, and Lessia shot her a grateful look.
“They do,” Raine responded. “At least that’s what the stories say. It’s worth a try.”
Lessia nodded, finally braving facing Merrick.