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Jarin rubbed his tattooed hands together. “It was worth a try. Come, let’s return to camp.”
They walked together in silence as the sun dipped lower in the sky, Riella trying in vain to ignore her broken heart. The sirens had dispensed with her. The rejection hurt in a very deep and essential way.
Jarin cleared his throat and spoke once they neared the camp. His words were the first good news she’d received that day.
CHAPTER 22
“The Pandora’s ready to sail.”
Riella’s heart leaped. “We can go to the Black Cliffs?”
He nodded. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll set off. We can’t dock in the bay of the Black Cliffs, because it’s far too shallow, but we’ll get as close as we can and travel by horseback the rest of the way.”
He and Riella sat on tree stumps on the edge of the clearing, their conversation masked by the crackling and spitting of the growing bonfire.
Inky darkness fell across the island like a cloak. Ulyss helped Kohara and the children prepare food, as the rest of the crew drank and talked and cast grudging looks at Riella.
“And your crew?” she asked doubtfully. “They’re willing to assist a siren?”
“Once we dock, they’re going to plunder the inland armory of a slaver, to fortify ourselves against Artus. A showdown with him is inevitable, and we need weapons. To the crew’s knowledge, that is why we are sailing tomorrow. Meanwhile, I’ll go to the Black Cliffs with you. We’ll be more stealthy with just the two of us.”
Riella nodded, mulling this over. “Yes, that’s wise. Polinth has an excellent vantage point from his workshop on the cliffs. And I’m sure he uses magic to defend his territory.” The siren allowed herself a brief glimmer of hope. At least she’d have the chance to face the sorcerer. “I look forward to killing him.”
“And I look forward to watching you do it.”
They smiled at each other. Even if she had no chance of attaining the amulet, she could stop Polinth and Artus the old-fashioned way. She could disembowel them.
But right now, it was a balmy evening on a tropical island, and she had naught to do except wait until the morning.
The pirates became steadily drunk, their jibes and insults about Riella traveling across the fire to her ears. Perhaps she ought to get rotten drunk, too. That might dissolve some of her painful thoughts about her friends and Seraphine.
“Want to go see the best place on the island?” asked Jarin, eyeing her.
She nodded gratefully and stood. “Very much so.”
He led her to a steep rock formation in a quiet pocket of the island. Vines covered the path and she had to walk with care to avoid tripping. The canopy blocked out the moon and the only light was the darting flame of the torch Jarin carried.
But once they climbed to the top of the formation, the canopy of the jungle spread at their feet like a green velvet carpet. The dark sea and distant horizon lay beyond. The surface at the summit was flat, and the stone was still warm from the now-absent sun. A light breeze teased at the hem of Riella’s dress, which was now quite worn and ragged.
“This is where I sleep most of the time, when I don’t have a siren to look after. No one else knows about this spot.”
Riella tilted her head. “Look after me? Is that what you’ve been doing?”
Chuckling, he wedged the torch in a crevice and sat on the rock overlooking the emerald canopy. She sat next to him.
“Yes, looking after you. You’ve survived, haven’t you?”
She made a noise in her throat. “For now.”
He touched her arm. “It’s not like a siren to give up.”
“Well, lots of things about me are not like a siren anymore.”
“Hey.” He lay on the rock, putting his hands behind his head. “Lie back and get a load of the view.”
She did as he said. The cloudless night sky filled her vision completely and took her breath away. Stars were packed densely into every bit of darkness, sparkling white and pink and blue and yellow. She’d gazed at the night sky before, of course, but never while lying high on a hilltop like this.
She ignored the waxing moon—the celestial time-keeper for Riella’s mortality.
