Page 77 of Starchaser
“Leo, you can’t—”
“I wouldn’t dare!” She places her hand over her heart, her expression gravely serious. “Your secret’s safe with me,” she says, holding out her little finger. “Promise.”
I flick a glance at her outstretched digit. “What are you doing?”
She doesn’t budge. “You’re supposed to give me yours,” she says, nodding encouragingly. “We lock fingers, and it represents a solemn, unbreakable vow of trust between us.”
Trust.Why must everyone insist on asking me to trust them?
I think of the humans Leo told me about—think of the dungeons awaiting them if we don’t rescue them first—and realize I don’t have much of a choice.
I twine my little finger with hers, and Leo grins again.
“Right,” she says, releasing my hand to gesture at the water once more. “Shall we?”
I blink once—twice. “You expect me toswimus across?” I balk, motioning at the length of water between the island of Castle Grim and the shores of Jade.
“Of course not!” Leo giggles. “Follow me,” she adds with a mischievous grin. “You’re going to love this.”
Entering Castle Grim’s private indoor harbor feels like stepping into another world entirely.
“Keep your head down,” Leo says, her hood casting shadows over her face as we climb up from the rocky shore and onto one of the long wooden piers that leads into the massive mouth of the cavern. Inside, illuminated by thousands of gilded lanterns, ships from all over the Known World rock idly as hundreds of dockworkers, servants, and soldiers bustle to and fro, loading and unloading crates. “Look like you belong,” she adds, picking up a small barrel of fruit, and I do the same, towing a basket of fragrant spices from Kane.
When we reach the end of a long pier, Leo throws her barrel into the water, checking over my shoulder before grabbing my arm and dragging me a few steps to the left, where I’m concealed by the aft of an empty galleon.
“Wait here,” she says, then disappears around the other side of the ship.
I pretend to inspect the contents of my basket as a group of fourBloodknights pass, but my shoulders ease at the sound of their raucous laughter. When I realize they’re more concerned with whatever drunken song they’re attempting to sing, my casual perusal of ingredients turns into something more.
I recognize a few of the spices, but most have names I’ve never heard of—ground Kalmarian root, Yog pepper, smoked Romilly, Tarron sprigs—and I’m struck with the sudden urge to stash them away in my pockets at the chance I might get to cook with them one day. But it’s as if the moment the thought crosses my mind, a sour taste coats my mouth, and I drop the basket, the spices spilling onto the dock and disappearing through the gaps in the wooden planks.
I think of Father’s compass, hidden safely in my room, and the words he wrote on its face.There is still time to chase another star. I would like to believe I have all the time in the world—that there’ll be more dishes to cook, more adventures to be had. But time is slipping through my fingers like the spices sifting into the water below.
I look over my shoulder, searching the docks for any sign of Leo, when a sparkle of gold catches my eye and I stumble back a step, my stomach twisting.
MERRYWAYis written in gold letters along the side of a ship. It’s the same one that attacked my family’s vessel, theLightbringer. It’s the same ship that brought us to the Eerie. The name I swore to remember should I ever get the chance to seek justice for what was done to Owen, my family, and me. I thought the next time I saw this ship I would be here to kill the Nightweaver who took me from the sea, not because I came to Castle Grim to save his life.
A whistle cuts through the chaos of the harbor, and my head spins as I attempt to locate the source of the sound, as if it came from directly beneath me. I peer over the side of the dock to findLeo rowing a small, strange-looking skiff with a single crimson sail and barely enough room for two people to stand.
She waves at me as she steers the skiff parallel to the lower pier that runs below the dock, and I don’t hesitate to jump down. The planks creak underfoot as I jog a few paces and hop onto the skiff beside her.
“Now what?” I ask, my breath fogging the air. “What even is this thing?”
She grins, her face bright. “It’s called a skipper,” she says. “Bloodletters use them to get across the water quickly. And we’ll move much faster if you…” She gestures at the sail, then at the entrance of the harbor, where, in the distance, the lights of Jade glitter like fireflies.
“But I don’t know how—”
“Nonsense,” she says with a dismissive wave. “Just think about where you want the water to take you, and the skipper will do the rest.”
We stare at each other for a long moment. My brow creases, but she just nods encouragingly.
“Go on, give it a try!” she says.
I remember what Titus taught me earlier this evening—the language of the sea. A rush of emotion rises up at the thought of him, but I push down the feeling and focus on the waves lapping at the sides of the skiff. After what feels like too long to be drifting at the docks, I almost tell Leo the truth—that I don’t yet know how to control my affinity—but then I hear it.
A faint, melodic hum that tells a story of joy, and thrills, and unbridled excitement. Only this time the song comes from within, and it’s as if the waves calm for the span of a heartbeat, listening.…
The skipper takes off at a dizzying speed, bouncing over the surface of the water, and I barely have time to grab hold of the sail.
