Page 13 of Daughter of the Dark Sea
“Let’s head back before the crew suspect something. I don’t want them getting any ideas about us.”
“I’ll give them something to be suspicious about tonight,” he whispered against her ear, and her toes curled in her boots at the dangerous promise. It was her lucky day, indeed.
6
The prisoners had refused to talk, eat, or drink for three agonisingly slow days. Kora didn’t mind the latter, it meant more rations could be spread amongst the crew, but it was infuriating they’d not been able to break the prisoners out of their stony silence.
She sat, with her legs crossed before her, on the ebony main deck, aggressively polishing her dual-sabre daggers. The briny wind of the Shaurock Sea whipped against her short, now curling hair, tickling the nape of her neck and curve of her ears.
Galen and Peril Cove had faded into the western horizon, and endless, glittering-blue ocean surrounded them, greeting sunset orange skies. It was heavenly.
Blake had taken a temporary reprieve of interrogating the prisoners and stood at the helm. His body tense, and his face thunderous, steering them home. Kora knew better than to approach him when he was in one of hismoods, and she’d sent Finlay down to the prisoners to coax them into drinking water. They couldn’t die before they reached Stormkeep Fortress. She wouldnotarrive empty-handed. Her reputation depended on it.
Exhaling a long sigh, she poured her frustrations into polishing a single speck on her gleaming silver daggers. Stormkeep Fortress was four days away if the winds remained on their side. They were making good time, and would likely see the dusty maroon coast of Scarlet Bay once again in a day’s journey.
The mighty fortress—the beating heart of Aldara—had been Kora’s home for the past ten years since Erick rescued her. Yet, the thought of being on land for too long made her feel trapped, her skin crawling with reluctance at returning. She didn’t know where her real home was, orwhoshe was, and it fuelled her eternal rage from having her life ripped away.
Even Erick wasn’t sure,seeingas he’d discovered her, half-dead on a piece of floating driftwood in the Shaurock Sea. He’d said it had happened around the time Galen had vanished from the world, causing pirates to grow bold with the absence of the ruthless barbarians. They began attacking more vessels—including the one Kora and her presumed family had been sailing on.
Erick had assured her they’d scouted every inch of the vast Shaurock Sea for survivors, to unify Kora with her lost ones. But the ocean was wicked, endless, and deadly. One wrong move, and sailors succumbed to its dark depths, their lives snared by currents of death.
It was the sea she intended to tame. To make hers to command—and that would start with working her way up in the empire. Even if it meant accepting she was an outsider in this god-forsaken world.
But Admiral Kora Cadell had a nice ring to it.
“I don’t think they can get any shinier.”
A tall, lean shadow appeared by her side, interrupting her thoughts, and Kora suspended her polishing as Finlay plopped down beside her, his back resting against the railing. His bonyshoulder brushed hers, and he wiped his hand across his sweaty brow, smearing dirt across his face. The healer had removed his bandage, and the wound to his forehead was knitting together, forming a pink and scabbed scar.
“Any luck?” Kora quietly murmured, placing her daggers down gently beside her, beams of dazzling sunset bouncing off the shining metal.
Finlay nodded, taking a swig from his waterskin before offering it to her. “They eventually caved.”
She patted his knee in appreciation, the water blissfully quenching her parched throat. “Good. I need them alive.”
The azure ocean drew her gaze. She’d not heard her comforting, windful voice since destroyingDemon Sea Sirenthree days ago and she kept finding herself repeatedly gazing towards the west, as if her soul longed to venture towards the Mist.
But that couldn’t be true. No one longed for the Mist. She was just tired, that was all.
“He’s not been the same sinceDemon Sea Siren.” Finlay inclined his head towards Blake. Sailors kept a wide berth around him as he handed the helm over to Kora’s best sailing masterandstrode towards them like a walking black thundercloud.
“You could say that,” she muttered, bumping his bony shoulder back.
Blake hadn’t fulfilled his promise the night they’d returned toHell’s Serpent. He’d been focused on interrogating the prisoners around the clock, to Kora’s chagrin. In fact, since they’d set sail from Peril Cove, Blake had frequently found other things moreimportantto handle, and she was sure he was avoiding her. He’d even stopped sharing their bed.
Her core ached with longing and loneliness, and it pained her whenever his dazzling charm evaporated, replaced with acrushing dark weight on his shoulders. Blake’s mood swings were an intermittent dilemma in their dynamic, and whenever she probed, he’d lash out and storm off to release his pained past in physical combat.
Whether that was sparring, or barrelling his knuckles into the faces of their enemies.
To distract herself, she’d spent more time with Finlay, training him to wield his family’s broadsword. His grip was always slack, the sword tumbling from his hand, and sometimes he’d flat out drop it, nearly severing his toes. Finlay had been hesitant at training, pain consuming his face whenever he gripped the broadsword. But recently, that pain had hardened into strength.
Blake’s large leather boots stomped to a halt in front of them, unlike his usual silent predatory grace. “What do you think you’re doing?” he snapped at Finlay with a glare. Annoyance sliced through Kora, heat rising to her cheeks.
“I-er, I was just updating Captain Cadell on the prisoners.” Finlay heaved himself up to address Blake face-to-face, black eyes narrowing. His dark, blonde hair gleamed in the afternoon sun, absorbing the orange tones painting the sky.
“You can get to work. We don’t pay you to sit around.” Blake clapped his shoulder, sending Finlay scurrying away. Kora threw Finlay an apologetic glance as he headed towards the lancers scrubbing the main deck and organising the recently stocked artillery.
“Blake,” Kora sighed again, lightly rubbing the sore scar by her temple. She gripped the thick railing, swiftly rising, and sheathed her daggers into the scabbard attached to her back. “Don’t speak to him like that!”
