My chest filled with warmth, and my eyes stung with tears I refused to let fall.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The ship sat secured at the port, masts cutting against a pale sky, sails unfurled and waiting. It looked exactly like something out of Nam’s stories. Hope stopped dead at the edge of the dock, her hand tightening around mine.
“That’s a ship,” she whispered, her eyes growing bigger.
“It is.” I knelt so we were eye level. “Nobody on that ship is going to hurt you. Not ever again.”
She hugged me tight and released a long breath. My heart ached for what she had endured. For all of them.
Faith and Sunny crowded in behind her, necks craned back so far they nearly toppled. Their jaws dropped. I remembered that feeling—first time I’d seen a pirate ship, awed by the size, the different levels of deck stacked like a floating house on the sea. Though I was in awe, I was also scared because of Resse treating us cruelly.
Theron crouched until he was eye level with the children, his dark coat pooling around his boots, his shoulder-length hair flapping behind him like wings.
“Two rules,” he said, holding up a finger. “One—you listen to Fraya and Jimin if I’m not around. Two—nobody goes near the rail without an adult.” He paused, waiting until all the children nodded. “Follow those, and I’ll let you take a turn steering her from the bow.”
Hope bounced on the balls of her feet. “Steer the whole ship?”
“The whole ship.” Theron chuckled. “Captain’s orders.”
Hope grabbed my arm. “Star, did you hear that? I’m going to steer a ship.”
“I heard.” I squeezed her hand. “Don’t sink us.”
That earned a bright and unguarded laugh out of the children, and my heart swelled.
“Time to get on board.” Theron led the way, the children falling in line behind him like ducklings.
We crossed the gangplank, the children clutching the rail with both hands, wide-eyed at the drop to the water below.
Theron caught my arm gently before I could follow them across the deck. “Did you find the pure stones?”
I hesitated, then reached into the fold of cloth at my waist and drew one out, holding it flat on my palm rather than handing it over. He didn’t reach for it. He just waited, like the choice belonged to me. So I gave it to him.
The moment it touched his palm, his whole body went rigid, just for a breath, so fast I might have imagined it if I hadn’t been watching him. His jaw tightened. His eyes flicked to mine, sharp, searching, before he held the stone up to the light like he was admiring it.
Somewhere above the mast, thunder rolled once through a cloudless sky, low and distant, gone before anyone else seemed to notice it. Strange, but I dismissed it.
“So small.” He turned it once between his fingers. “Insignificant, really, for something the queen wants so badly.” He handed it back to me.
I closed my fingers around it, the cool weight settling. Insignificant. He didn’t believe that any more than I did. I said nothing. But I made a mental note to ask Minha, Jina, Ranis if they’d heard the same humming.
Maybe they’d heard it too and said nothing, the same as I had. Maybe none of us wanted to be the first to admit we’d heard a stone whisper.
On the upper deck, Jimin lifted a hand in greeting, dark braid swinging loose over one shoulder, the scar along his jaw catching what light remained.
I waved back, glad to see a familiar friendly face.
“Reel in that rope!” he barked at someone behind him, back to business before I’d even lowered my hand.
Fraya was waiting near the mast, arms already spread before we’d even crossed the deck, reddish hair loose around her shoulders, a grin splitting her face wide.
“Welcome to Yeri!” Fraya pulled Hope into a hug before the girl could even introduce herself.
It dawned on me after all this time that Theron had named his ship after the goddess. So he did believe she existed.
Then Fraya embraced Faith, Sunny, and the others, sweeping each of them up like long lost friends. Hellena and the rest of the elders got the same treatment, along with Jina and Ranis. Minha pushed back with the look she gave Fraya that dared her to try it.