Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Judging by his state of undress, I’m not sure if by winning he actually means losing.
The captain jumps off the barrel and puts on a flamboyant jacket embroidered with a pattern of spider crabs in black and red. As I step on the pier, I’m secretly glad to see she’s no taller than me. Well, maybe if it wasn’t for her hat.
“I am sorry to disturb you, but I come with an urgent matter. My name is Prince Sylvan Goldweed, and I have been told you used to work for my mother.”
Lepearl squints at me. Her eyes are like two rubies surrounded by kohl dust. “With, not ‘for’. So what can a banished prince want from me? You do know there’s a bounty on your head, right?” she asks, but does glance at Hawk next. If news of Hawk and what we’ve done at The Burning Corpse has traveled, people might assume we’re more dangerous than we are.
I clear my throat. “Passage to Ravanzia. As I said, urgently. My mother will pay.” I’m bluffing, but my family name is the only bargaining chip I have left, unless the bag of fresh raspberries attached to my belt counts.
Lepearl sighs and grabs an apple from a golden bowl. She doesn’t bite into it though, almost as if the fruit is a wax prop. “How much is her blood worth to her?” she asks while the two men relax. One of them pulls out a pipe and packs it with dried adora, which explains the herby, sweet scent lingering in the air. The other puts down the crossbow with a deep sigh. Is he upset he doesn’t get to use it?
“Everything,” I say without missing a beat. Another useful thing my mother taught me. Don’t hesitate when lying. “I am her only remaining son.”
When the man behind Lepearl lights his pipe, I get a good look at his blank eyes. They have no pupils, just empty sclera in a watery shade, and it hits me where I’ve seen a gaze like his before. The royal coachman at the Nocturne Court, and every single kelpie in his care have eyes like that . But how can these two stay in elven form? Who enchanted them? And how does Lepearl keep them disciplined when kelpie are known to be rowdy and violent creatures with a knack for cruel games?
The captain taps her pale lips. “Let’s say I agree—”
“No!” One of the kelpie gets up and spreads his arms. “We just got back yesterday!”
I frown. “I am speaking with your captain.”
Lepearl cocks her head at me. “Kick and Bite will be the ones making sure we have a safe journey, so you don’t want to disrespect them, and if they say they’re tired, then we’re not going anywhere until tomorrow.”
Kick and Bite? Seriously? I glare at the glorified horses, but when I take a deep breath to speak again, Hawk steps in front of me.
“Listen, lady. We don’t have the time. His mother will pay, and we will be the best passengers you’ve ever had. Hell, I can row if you want. But we need to leave now.”
She glares at him, buttoning her coat, as if to let him know this is not a game. “My crew said no. You can stay in the cave until tomorrow, but don’t push your luck.”
Hawk steps farther onto the pier, and I follow him, unsure how I should act in order to calm the situation. “You can’t be serious! You’ll get paid extra if we go now.”
“I have enough money,” Lepearl says, her face growing colder. “You’re welcome to swim on your own, though I wouldn’t recommend it.”
Hawk lets out a growl. He takes another step forward and some of the dried seaweed falls off him. “You need to get him on that ship, and to Ravanzia or I will rip you all to shreds! That’s the deal!”
My stomach plummets, and I want to pull him back, but it’s too late. I have no idea why he’s being like this when we could just wait until tomorrow.
I don’t know whether it’s Kick or Bite, but one of the kelpie steps in front of Lepearl and shifts in front of our eyes. Within seconds, his pale body turns tar-black, only the head remaining bone-white since it’s a skull. The imposing horse beast stomps its hoofs on the creaking pier. This must be Bite after all, because he lunges forward, teeth-first, but Hawk doesn’t fall back.
He punches the kelpie right on its bony muzzle.
“No!” I yell, because this mess is about to get even messier.
Bite collapses to the wooden floor, making the pier creak in warning, but as he falls, so does Hawk. He shrieks in panic, grabs Bite’s neck with his unprotected hand, and his fingers get stuck to the kelpie’s coat. The need for clothing made out of octopus leather meant to prevent situations like this has been drilled into me before my first kelpie-riding lesson. But Hawk is ignorant to what’s going on and drags Bite over the pier in an attempt to get free.