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“Yes, James, that’s where you are needed,” she says. “This isn’t like hunting a half-frozen ice dragon. If I die, the other noble houses will swoop in like vultures to claim our castle. You must be alive to protect our legacy so that your children may inherit it one day.”
“Is that supposed to be a worthy consolation prize for your dying?”
“It would be a worthwhile sacrifice for House of Cinder, yes,” she says. “The high priestess would make sure to commemorate our deaths.”
“You are so hard-headed,” he mumbles as he walks off.
I’m inclined to agree with his assessment. Bijou wasn’t exaggerating when she said Darcy could be single-minded.
Her investment in hunting down the rune-locked monsters borders on obsession.
“The title is the only thing my parents left me,” she says, as if she senses my judgement. “Aunt Nell and Uncle Malcolm created the wealth that kept our house from collapsing. Everything I do is to protect our hunting legacy. This is what I was made for; I was never meant to spend my days trading cargo.”
She stalks down to the beach where Zephyr is standing with their arms folded over their chest, their skin pale and coated in a layer of sweat. They’ve changed their clothes, but I smelled blood and alcohol on their breath when they first appeared.
I thought we were both having fun in bed earlier. I hope I didn’t push them into something they now regret.
They lift the hand resting on their tricep to acknowledge my presence, but they don’t make eye contact.
Rubbing my elbows, I join the crew at the bonfire as the lone survivor of the kraken attack recounts his version of the events.
“Everything was calm, and then we felt a slight drop,” he says, forming a bowl with his arms. “And the ocean began to swirl like a cauldron, pulling us in.”
“How do you know it was the kraken?” a woman asks, sharpening her knife.
“Because long, crimson tentacles shot out of the vortex and began pulling men from the boat,” he says, shoving his sleeve up to show everyone the red suction cup marks on his arm. “The beast only slapped me back, but it was strong enough to leave these. It smashed our vessel to pieces. Not many creatures out there are capable of that.”
Zephyr’s eyes don’t leave the welts. “How did you get back?”
“Found a broken board and clung to it.” He scratches his thick, brown beard. “Prayed to the Moon Goddess, the Sea Gods—whoever was listening—to bring me home.”
“We’re so glad you made it back,” I say, and Darcy slips her hand down to mine.
Now Zephyr’s eyes decide to leave the fisherman’s arm.
They blink at our interlaced fingers, then shift their gaze to the sky.
“You’ll be rewarded for leading us to the beast, of course,” Darcy says. “We’ll make sure you get your revenge.”
The fisherman shakes his head. “Revenge? No, I’m going back home to my family in the morning.”
One of the divers stands up, pouring his mug out in the sand. “I think I’ll sit this one out too. I came here ready to dredge up a frozen dragon, not fight a damn kraken.”
Others begin to air their complaints.
“We haven’t gotten any rest.”
“Can’t pay me enough to go looking for that sort of trouble.”
“What’s a kraken doing this far north anyhow?”
Darcy tries to slip my grip, but I squeeze her hand, forcing her to listen to them without losing her temper. She needs to hear their concerns before steering them into danger.
“I understand your hesitation,” she says, her voice booming over their arguments once they become loud and garbled. “But my family has trained for situations like these. We have the necessary tools to stop the beast.”
“Like iron harpoons,” Zephyr says, picking up the weapon from the stockpile. ‘The kraken is a fae creature, trapped inside our realm. It should only take one good shot to stun the beast.”
My jaw drops. That’s not a phrase I’d ever expect to hear them say.
