Page 97 of Daughter of the Dark Sea
“Theron’s right-hand man,” she strained as she fought to keep the memory at bay. “He didn’t believe my vagina justified me being a captain.”
Erick’s face twisted as his fist clenched near her neck. “I’ll kill him.Is he here?”
“Theron banished him into the desert.” She flinched at his curled fist so near to her face. “Callan’s gone . . . he won’t be coming back.”
“Cal-lan,” he sounded out the name slowly, “is a dead man if he crosses any of the borders.”
Kora loosened a breath as Erick stepped back, his gaze observing all of her for any further injuries. She resisted the urgeto touch her bandaged arm beneath her tunic. Maybe Callan crossing the borders would work in her favour. It would be one way to permanently silence him about her powers . . . or spark a conversation leading to her magical discovery. Her heart fluttered.
“What else happened out there? Anything I should know?” He raised a brow and tapped his foot.
“The journey was quiet out. We arrived early and met Theron and his two lackeys. There was a minor incident,” orsituation, as Blake had called it,“which resulted in Callan’s banishment.”
“That doesn’t look minor to me. Anything else?”
“Nope,” she forced a smile. “Smooth sailing.”
Blake had ordered them all to keep the exile attack under wraps, with Theron in keen agreement. It’d look poor for all of them, slaughtering that many exiles. If the empire wanted them dead, they would’ve been hanged in the first place.
She’d been surprised at the sentinel’s eagerness about the decision. Wouldn’t he want to report it? Or was he filing it away for later, ready to spring it on them in his report to the king? Targeting Aldara as a ‘problem’ island.
After an excruciating pause, Erick finally spoke. “We have a meeting soon.” He strode for the door. “Meet us in my study when you’re ready.”
Kora nodded, words eluding her as she battled her inner screaming demon at the mention of Callan, and the potential hunt for her being orchestrated.
“And Kora?” He looked back as he opened the door. “I like the hair.”
38
I’m the sailing master, and I say this is the best route.” Samuel exasperatedly pointed at the large map stretched across Erick’s mahogany desk.
“No, that’s too long. Why not go straight across towards the Sulfire Sea?” Blake traced a line across the map.
“No, no, no!” Samuel moaned, pulling on his beard.
The bickering sounds faded out as Kora hung back, leaning by the entrance to Erick’s office. It was made entirely of wood—a similar chestnut tone to his hair and eyes—and decorated with floor-to-ceiling wainscoting. Deep-green velvet drapes hung from the large, black-arched windows on the left side of the room.
“Neither route will work,” Theron’s voice cut through the grown males quibbling.
A small lit fireplace donned the rear of the room, and bookcases with glass cabinets lined the right-hand wall, filled with an impressive suite of literature and endless reports. Rightin the centre of the room, beneath a brass candle chandelier, laid the large mahogany desk.
Her attention snapped back to the group. Samuel stood near the fire, his large hands pressed on the aged, faded map of the Azarian Islands. Blake stood to his left, Theron to his right, and Erick next to him. Ivar hung in the shadows pocketing the corners of the room, his dark clothing and hair blending in.
“What did I miss?” Aryn strolled through the doorway, taking position against the wall next to her.
“Just . . . this.” She waved a hand to the males arguing over the map, pointing at which route to sail to Talmon Island.Gods spare her.
Erick had called a meeting for a debrief of their ten-day escort. After seeing the bruises on her neck, he knew all didn’t go well. Blake had given a shortened, yet tense, explanation of the voyage, expertly skimming over what happened with the exiles—not letting Erick know how many there had been . . . and what a bloodbath it’d become.
If the truth came to light, they’d be stripped of their ranks for gross misconduct. The exiles may be banished from society, but they weren’t fully-fledged criminals.
And their blood stained their hands.
It wouldn’t matter now. Their bodies would’ve become food for the wild animals lurking in the desert, perhaps the boars. Or any surviving exiles who were starved enough to taste one of their own, but there weren’t many of them left. Just like the pirates, she’d trimmed the exiles down to a scant amount. Still, the Skytors must be powerful to organise a large number like that. What kind of power had Finlay possessed in his trembling hands?
Theron had barged into the manor mid-meeting, walking with a royal’s pride as he declared he required passage to the Citadelimmediately—and he was invoking their contract as hisescorts. Most probably to ensure they didn’t blab about what happened in the desert. Whether it was the exile massacre, or Callan, she wasn’t sure. Either one would stain his royal reputation.
The relief had washed over Kora like a thunderous wave. It meant Blake had to remain employed toHell’s Serpentjust a bit longer as Theron’s escort. They hadn’t had the chance to speak of his future yet. She feared she would become utterly undone once they did. That a line would be drawn in the sand that neither of them would be able to cross again.
