The Glittering Court (14 page)

As soon as I brushed his lips with my fingertips I felt my pulse quicken and a flush of heat sweep over me. Unable to resist, I traced the edges of his lips, suddenly wondering if they would taste just as sweet as the honey.

Cedric took hold of my hand and laced his fingers with mine. The heat in his gaze made me heady, its intensity burning right through me. He didn't let go, and I felt as though the world around us was slowing down. I finally managed to ask, “What about me? Am I your friend?”

He closed his eyes briefly, wrestling with some great dilemma, and then exhaled. “You are—”

Before he could finish answering, the door to the cargo hold suddenly opened. Both of us jumped. A sailor appeared in the doorway, an older man with a shaved head and a slanted scar across his cheek. I was also pretty sure he was missing two fingers on his left hand. He seemed equally astonished to see us, and Cedric immediately straightened up, angling himself between me and the door. He put one arm protectively around me and rested his other hand on the pocket of his coat. The painting at least wasn't in view of the door.

“What are you doing here?” the sailor demanded. Before either of us could answer, a smirk suddenly crossed the man's face. “Oh. I see how it is. Getting a little alone time, eh? I guess Thorn's blushing beauties aren't so innocent after all.”

It took me a moment to understand, and then I realized how it must look. Cedric's proximity and arm around me made it look as though, at the very least, we'd been cuddling. Understanding the implications, I did, indeed, blush.

“We're not—”

“She's having second thoughts about marrying in Adoria,” said Cedric, interrupting my outrage. “She wants to turn around and go back to Osfrid. If my father finds out,
I'll
be the one who gets in trouble.”

I slipped into the act and crossed my arms over my chest. Nerves would be a lot easier to explain to Jasper than a slur on my virtue. “I told you! There's nothing you can say to change my mind.”

Cedric sighed dramatically. “Why won't you just listen to reason?”

The sailor's eyes shifted between the two of us, and I didn't like the way he looked at me. I also didn't think he believed us.

Cedric removed his hand from his pocket and reached for the opposite one, producing a small bag. He withdrew three silver coins from it and held them out to the sailor. “I'm sure you understand the need for discretion until I can talk her out of this. No need for anyone else to know.”

The sailor didn't hesitate to snatch up the coins. I'd been right about the fingers. “Yes, sir. I certainly do. I'm as discreet as they come. You can trust Old Lefty, that you can. I won't tell anyone about your, uh, doubts.”

He bobbed his head deferentially and then picked up a small crate before retreating. He gave us one last leer and then exited, closing the door behind him.

I groaned and sank back against the wall. “Great, just great. I knew it was only a matter of time before this all fell apart.”

“It did nothing of the sort,” Cedric replied. “He didn't see the painting, and he's not going to talk anyway.”

“Really? You think so? I'm sorry, but I can't feel that confident about trusting our fate to someone called Old Lefty.” I paused. “And why is he called that if that's the hand missing the fingers? Why not take a positive spin and go with ‘Old Righty'?”

“He's not going to talk,” Cedric reiterated. “The silver will ensure that—and future silver, seeing as I'm sure he'll approach me later wanting a bonus to further his ‘discretion.'”

I raised an eyebrow. “I wasn't aware you had all that much silver to just throw around.”

“I don't . . . but some expenses are necessary. And if all of this works out, it won't matter.”

“Let's hope so.” My gaze fell on the pocket of his coat. “What's there? Why'd you reach for it?”

Cedric hesitated and then produced a gleaming dagger. The hilt
was silver, engraved with an intricate tree pattern. “A ritual blade. The angel Ozhiel's blade. That's the Tree of Life that connects all living things in this world to the next.”

I was too surprised to even make a joke about him worshipping trees after all. “You were . . . going to attack him with that?”

“If that's what it took. I didn't know his intentions.” Cedric grew thoughtful a few moments and then held out the dagger to me. “Here.”

“It's beautiful, but I don't really want some pagan knife.”

“Forget the religious implications. Keep it in case you find yourself in a situation where you need it.”

“That night I got the holly, you told me to drop my knife before I hurt someone.”

“Well, I was worried you'd hurt
me
. But anyone else? They're fair game.”

“I don't really know how to use this,” I said, taking the weapon in spite of myself.

“You'll figure it out—you've always been good at defending yourself. But here's a tip to get you started: If someone attacks you, just point the blade away from you and start hacking.”

“I see. I didn't know you had a second job as a weapons master.”

The strongest wave we'd hit so far tumbled us into each other. A few items nearby shifted violently, and I nearly stabbed Cedric. “Probably not a good idea to have that out with all these waves,” he said.

I tucked the blade away, knowing I'd have to conceal it carefully among my belongings lest I be caught with an Alanzan artifact. I glanced around us as the ship swayed. “Is it just a few waves? We got into this because the captain went to take the wheel, remember?”

I could see Cedric considering this, that maybe we should've paid more attention to why the stateroom we'd raided had been abandoned in the first place. “I'm sure it's—” Another jolt sent us reeling, and a crate fell, smashing beside us. “I think we should go,” he said.

I followed him out of the cargo room as wave after powerful wave rocked us. With no formalities or care for who saw, he hurried me
quickly down the corridor, taking me to the Glittering Court's common room. Just before we entered, I pulled him back.

“Cedric . . . you never told me. What am I to you?”

“You are . . .” He started to lift a hand to my face and then dropped it. “Out of my reach.”

I closed my eyes for a heartbeat as I let those words burn through me. My world swayed, and not because of the storm outside. I turned away, scared to meet his eyes, and entered the room. There, a pale-faced Miss Bradley paced, surrounded in the rest of our girls.

“Thank Uros you're here,” she said, upon seeing us. “I just heard from Master Jasper—we're in some kind of storm. The captain said it came out of nowhere. We're ordered to stay below.”

“I need to go back out,” Cedric said.

I'd been about to sit and shot back up. “What? It's dangerous! Now isn't the time to do something stupid.”

“Adelaide,” scolded Miss Bradley, obviously not aware of the informality between Cedric and me.

“No more stupid than usual,” he replied and disappeared out the door.

I looked around the room, assessing my cohorts. Some stood alone, fighting their fear in their own stoic way. Others huddled in groups, crying and wailing. I did a quick head count and noticed we were one short.

“Mira! Where's Mira?”

Miss Bradley shook her head, clearly distracted by her own panic. “I don't know. We'll just have to hope she took refuge in some other room.”

A sickening feeling—intensified by the almost constant rolling and rocking of the ship—welled up within me. Mira wasn't in some other room, I was certain of it. She'd probably been on one of her illicit above-deck excursions. She was resourceful—but would she be able to get below in time?

I strode to the door, my gait unsteady. “I have to find her. I have to
make sure she's safe.” I struggled to make my voice heard above the creaking of the ship and wind wailing outside, both of which seemed to be increasing by the minute.

“Adelaide!” exclaimed Miss Bradley. “You will most certainly not!” She took a step toward me, but a wave threw her off-balance. I moved out the door, not looking back.

Getting through the corridor was a terrifying ordeal. The lurching of the ship kept slamming me into the walls, and my progress was slow. My whole world was disordered, and I became more aware than ever that I was in a great expanse of water in a small enclosure of wood. I'd never, ever felt such fear—not even when sneaking out of Osfro. Then, I'd risked the punishment of man. This was the wrath of nature.

I finally reached one of the hatches that allowed access above. I climbed upward and was entirely unprepared for the mighty wind that slammed into me. It pushed me back, sharp and cold with stinging sleet. The sky above us was a sickly greenish-gray, and everything around me was in motion. Sailors ran, following the barked orders of the captain and first mate, grabbing lines and securing loose items. I was soaked in an instant, pushed into a post by another blast of wind. A wave that seemed to reach up to the sky rolled into us, nearly turning the ship on its side. My grip on the pole held me steady, but I saw many sure-footed sailors tossed about, screaming and desperately seeking to hold on to something—anything.

Between the haze of the blowing sleet and the stinging of my eyes, I could barely see. But then, across the deck, I caught sight of a familiar form. Mira sat on the deck, pinned by a large, broken beam that had fallen across her. She was dangerously close to the ship's edge, giving me a sudden sense of déjà vu to all the times I'd worried about her standing by it. Without hesitation, I hurried to her—as much as I could hurry in such conditions. Most sailors didn't even notice me in their frantic scrambling, but I got a second glance when I passed Old Lefty.

“What are you doing, girl?” he shouted. “Get below!”

I pointed to Mira. “Get help! You have to get it off her.”

“
You
get it off her,” he snapped back. “We've got to keep this ship from sinking.”

He left, and I moved swiftly to Mira's side. Fine. If it was up to me to move it, I would do it. I knelt and tried to pull the beam away from her but couldn't budge it. “It's too heavy,” she yelled to me. “Leave me, and get back below.”

“Never,” I shot back, tugging and pulling more. Splinters dug into my fingers, and my muscles burned. I managed to shift it slightly, but I was nowhere near setting her free. If it was so immobile, I supposed that meant Mira wasn't going to fly off the ship anytime soon, but I'd feel better if she were below with everyone else. Steeling myself, I strained again, swearing I'd get it off her no matter the cost to myself. Nearing tears, I was startled when another set of hands suddenly joined me. It was Grant Elliott. I hadn't seen him throughout most of the voyage. He'd made a couple more attempts to talk to me during our first week aboard, and after that, he'd all but disappeared.

“Pull with me,” he barked, in a tone much different than the genteel one he'd used on me. He glowered when the beam remained obstinate. “Damn it, are you even trying, girl?”

“Of course I am!” I yelled back.

“You both need to go—” attempted Mira.

“Be quiet,” Grant snapped to her. To me, he said, “We'll do it on the count of three. Put all the strength you've got into it, and then dig up some you didn't even know you had. One—two—three!”

We pulled, and I did what he'd ordered, digging deep into my reserves. I felt like my own arms were going to get ripped off, but Grant and I finally lifted the beam just enough for Mira to slide out her leg and free herself. He helped her unsteadily to her feet. “Can you walk?”

She gave a shaky nod, but as she moved forward, it was obvious her ankle was slowing her down. Grant and I each took one of her arms and helped her, making our coordination that much more difficult in the treacherous conditions. Winds wailed around us, mingling with
the sailors' cries. More than one yelled at us to get below, but most rushed past, uncaring if we fell overboard.

We finally made it across the rolling deck to one of the entrances below. As we were about to enter, Mira pointed and cried, “Adelaide.”

I followed where she indicated. It took a moment to see what she was pointing to, since nearly everything was a blur from the storm. But then, far out on the dark waters, in the haze of the tempest, I could make out what her sharp eyes had seen. The
Gray Gull.
It was a little farther out than it usually was from us, and from this distance, it appeared to be tossed about on the waves like a child's toy, rocking precariously back and forth. Sometimes it tipped so far right or left that I was certain there was no way it could right itself.

Tamsin. Tamsin was aboard it.

Did we look the same to them? Were we flailing that much? I had no time to give it much thought. “Stop gaping! Go!” Grant ordered us. “Hurry!”

We made it below, but all we gained was a reprieve from the sleet and wind; the ship still pitched frightfully. Grant saw us back to the Glittering Court's common room and turned around. “Where are you going?” Mira asked.

He barely glanced back. “To see if any other fools need help.”

Mira watched him dash away, her eyes smoldering with anger. “Men get to do everything.”

“You want to go back out there?”

“I'd rather do something useful than sit around and worry about my dress being wet.”

Miss Bradley caught sight of us in the doorway. “Girls! Get in here! Thank Uros you're safe.”

A number of the girls were praying to the god. A few others had gotten sick, but that was a small thing, compared to everything else going on. Mira and I found a corner and sat down, wrapping our arms around each other.

“Are you sure you're okay?” I asked.