Page 31 of The Queens and the Kings
The sea owned him.
Powerfully.
No,he thought.I don’t belong to you. Only to her.
Pedr leaned back against the wheel, staring at the watery cast of moonlight on sea, when Himmel’s vapors appeared. They strengthened, forming in horizontal stacks that merged into theform of a wide-hipped woman with full lips and a haze of coarse black hair on top of her head. Her smoky eyes held all her true glory. They sparkled like starlight. Himmel captured his breath.
Every time.
“Himmel.”
The haze solidified into her rounded and glorious body. She came no closer, hovering barefoot over his deck. She couldn’t step on the Arcanist of the Sea’s space, but the Arcanist of Sky didn’t need a platform.
“Your ship is so colorful these days it’s garish.” She granted a wan smile that grew wider with every word. “A veritable rainbow, you are.”
Pedr held out his hands to the side with an unapologetic shrug. Himmel tipped her head back, studying him through spreading, thick lashes. Her sharp gaze missed nothing.
“So . . . a wyvern at your home island.”
“Indeed.”
“Certainly, a strange surprise.”
“Do you have opinions?” he asked.
She chortled. “Many, but I doubt you’ll want to hear them.”
He flashed a smile. “Try me.”
“Your charm doesn’t work on me, Arcanist of the Sea.” She propped a hand on her hip, but didn’t lose her humorous luster. “Fortunately, I’m in the mood to assuage you, because I have questions as well. Me first, you second.”
“Always my rule,” he murmured.
She harrumphed, sent him a quelling look that earned a laugh, and proceeded when he motioned for her to do so.
“My main opinion about your large, flying friend is that the wyverns are away from the mainland for more reasons than a potential attack. What’s your home island called again?”
“Kapurnick.”
“That’s right. Well, I believe there’s more to it than hungry human power.”
He sobered. Her view was exactly what he feared. “Then why was the wyvern there? They shouldn’t be able to fly that far.”
“Why do you think, Pedr?”
Her soft-spoken question stirred up the first hint of hope he’d allowed himself to feel in years. Quick as it came, he closed it back down. He couldn’t afford the distraction.
Not yet.
Not without confirmation.
Pedr licked his lips, wrestling memories of soft skin, dark curls, a giggling whisper. Hoarse, he countered with his own question.
“How many years has it been since the Wyvern Kings were forced into exile?”
“I’ve been the Arcanist of the Sky for four hundred and eighty seven years. When I came into my position, the Wyvern Kings were already banished to the mainland, and The Isles were created in their current form.”
“By how many years?”
