Page 39 of Seaborn and the Seven Seas

Barron’s hand scrabbled uselessly at Theron’s arm. “I didn’t—wait—”

“I told you and the crew. Nobody touches what belongs to me. The sea doesn’t forgive. Neither do I. Choose your next words carefully.”

Barron’s throat worked. “I-I—”

Thunder cracked somewhere above deck, sharp and sudden. I flinched. The sound rolled through the hull, a storm coming in, maybe. My heart pounded too hard to think about anything but what was about to happen.

“Wrong answer.” Theron snapped Barron’s neck.

His body thumped against the floor.

Barron’s eyes were opened, his neck twisted at an angle that proved he was dead. Who was he? Had he always seen me as a target, even while toasting to my name?

My stomach turned, but I didn’t look away. I’d seen death before. This wasn’t the part that scared me. What scared me was how easily Theron had snapped his neck. No hesitation.

What scared me even more was some small, ugly part of me was glad he was dead. What would Fraya and Jimin think of Barron? Or were they in on it too?

I rose, careful not to touch the blue blood. Whatever was inside the crate had finally gone still.

“Is Barron working alone?” I picked up my dagger and placed it back.

“I don’t know,” he said, voice flat. “Don’t speak a word of this to anyone.” He sighed, raking his hair back. “Can you at least do that?”

I nodded.

“You shouldn’t have come down here.” He turned, giving me his back.

“Can you at least check if he was working alone? Ask the crew.” My voice came out steadier than I felt.

He glanced back at me. He hadn’t asked how I knew to fight. Hadn’t asked for the dagger, or the blood that had sealed itself shut on my collarbone unless he didn’t notice.

“I’ll handle it,” he said and walked away, exhaustion weighing on him, the kind that came from betrayal and not sleep.

This is not your fault. But why did I feel guilty?

I would keep tonight to myself. Jina and Ranis didn’t need this weight added to everything else they were already carrying. And Theron would speak to his crew in the morning.

A low growl came from the crate, then a whimper.

“I’m sorry,” I said, even knowing it couldn’t understand me. “You’re dangerous to us all.”

A mournful sound came again. Then silence.

I must be out of my mind, thinking it had answered me. I needed sleep, but how could I after everything that had just happened? I turned and made my way back through the passage, leaving the crate and its secrets behind in the dark.

Chapter Thirteen

Morning came too fast.

I hadn’t slept. Every creak of the hull, every distant thump, had me bolting upright, certain it was the crate again, certain a creature had broken free in the night. By the time sunlight crept through the small window, I gave up.

Beside me on the mattress, Jina groaned and pressed both hands against her temples. Ranis’s blanket on the floor was empty. He must have gotten up early.

“Why does my head hurt this much?” Her voice came out muffled against the pillow. “Did someone hit me?”

“No one hit you.” I sat upright. “That’s the ale from last night.”

“The ale did this?” She cracked one eye open. “Ugh. I’m never drinking again.” Jina groaned and pulled the blanket over her face. “I’m not getting up. Tell everyone I died peacefully in my sleep.”