Page 28 of Sustaining
“It’s just down here.” I motion for him to follow, and he keeps a good distance between us as he trails after me.
Chaos, Rime, and Sinister keep an even closer distance to the Prince as we make our way toward the shore. The sound of the sea is gentle this morning, less roaring and more of a calming sound that makes me believe everything will be okay.
After only a few feet, I slow my gait, second-guessing where we left the massive naval ship last night. It’s hundreds of feet long. Why is this so hard to spot right now? Little sail boats and small fishing vessels line the work area at the coast. The war ship we built near the steam rooms is nowhere to be seen.
A clattering sound beats against the underside of the wooden dock. Men linger around us, and it takes me a moment to notice they’re pulling large chunks of lumber from the lapping white waves.
Brenton’s shirt is saturated, and he passes board after board to the workers behind him.
“What are you doing?” My hand shakes at my side, and I fold my arms over my chest to stop the nerves from settling in my fingertips.
Brenton hands over another curving board to the men, and they carry it up the dock to the work shed.
“Someone set off an explosion early this morning just after dawn. We’re on cleanup and trying to salvage what we can.”
“An explosion?” Rime’s gaze holds on the man kneeling at our feet, raking the ocean water for the broken remains of…my ship.
“That’s my ship.” I stare at the stained boards, doing the math as I realize we were the only ones working on a project that size.
Molly’s warning that she is not the only one whispering about me drifts sickly through my thoughts.
“Yeah, luckily the vandals only took out the one. We had to do some cleanup on the other boats, but they were mostly unharmed.” The next board he pulls out of the water is a clean slab, but fresh, dark stain mars the wood with dripping words slashed across it.
It readsBat Bitchin smeared letters.
“Someone destroyed my ship.” Pain stings through my jaw as I clinch it tightly closed.
“I’m so sorry, Arlow.” Linden lifts his hands, but there’s absolutely nothing he can do.
I was so worried about being a target. I put effort into making sure we’d taken our time and didn’t stand out in this fucking place.
And it didn’t even matter.
When the profanity-etched board is passed back, Rime glares down at the hateful words written across it. A cold chill slips into the salty air, and the sound of boots thundering hard over an old dock shakes through the silence.
“Fuck.” Chaos storms after his friend.
Linden prattles on and I hear his voice but not his words as I watch Chaos slam into Rime right before he opens the big steam room door. His hands push up and down the ice shifter’s forearms, and I can’t hear them, but whatever calming thing Chaos is saying to Rime isn’t changing the rage in those cold, blue eyes.
The moisture stinging my eyes pisses me off even more. I breathe out the urge to burst into tears right now over how much work was wasted and how easily I fucked up here.
In only a matter of days.
A new record for Arlow Winters.
“I’ll come back next week. It’s no rush, Arlow. Don’t cry.” The Prince’s gentle words snap me out of my sinking pity hole I was shoved into.
“No, it’s no problem. A minor setback. I’ll finish up your ships in two days.” I clench my jaw, exhaling all the reckless anger spinning around inside myself.
“Two days?” Linden’s words hang, but he doesn’t seem to find anything else to say to that.
“Yep. My friends and I are—”
“Master boat builders,” Sinister says, giving us a ridiculous title that’s lacking a whole lot of professionalism.
“We’re fast workers.” I nod and I’m already considering tossing magic-made ships into the sea right this very moment.
And that’s just what I’ll do tomorrow night before I leave a final time.
