Chapter Twenty-Four
When Kiva awoke, the ground was shifting.
She lurched upward and staggered out of bed, only to realize she had no idea where she was. She wasn’t in her blue bedroom. She wasn’t even in the palace. Because the view out the small, circular window in the slatted
wooden wall showed nothing but — Ocean.
The ground wasn’t shifting because of the angeldust leaving her system.
It was shifting because she was on a ship.
Kiva moaned as the floor swayed, and quickly slapped her hand over her mouth. Unthinking, she ran from the boxy cabin, darting along a short hallway and up a narrow set of stairs out into the bright sunshine, barely making across the deck before she leaned over the wooden railing and vomited.
That was how Caldon found her, with him breezily commenting, “I leave you alone for a few minutes and that’s when you choose to wake up?
Timing, Sunshine. We need to work on yours.”
Kiva retched again, releasing nothing but bile. She hadn’t eaten much the day before, but even if she had, she couldn’t remember if she’d already brought it up in the night. She couldn’t remember anything, apart from — Horror crashed into Kiva, the events following the Midnight Markets returning with searing clarity, everything she’d done, everything she’d said.
And worse, who had heard.
She might have forgotten about Jaren and Caldon in the haze of the moment, but they’d been in the blue suite the entire time she’d babbled to Cresta. And Jaren — Kiva heaved again, but it wasn’t in reaction to the angeldust.
Mortification flooded her, enough that, even when there was nothing left to expel, she still leaned over the rail, genuinely considering whether she should plunge into the water and never resurface.
“Don’t even think about it,” Caldon growled, reading her mind — or perhaps just seeing the wretched look on her face.
Turning stiffly, Kiva found him holding a damp cloth in one hand and a tumbler full of water in the other, pushing both toward her. She took the offerings, wiping her mouth before guzzling down the water, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. But then his arm shot out and he tilted her head until their gazes met.
She braced, certain he would be furious that she’d chosen the angeldust, and perhaps even more livid that she hadn’t told him about Zalindov. He was her best friend, and yet, she’d been too ashamed to tell him how far she’d fallen in those early days at the prison.
But Caldon didn’t yell at her. There wasn’t a single trace of anger on his face. Instead, all he said was, “You missed your training this morning.”
Kiva’s lips wobbled, emotion slamming into her.
“Don’t cry,” Caldon said firmly. “If you cry, I’ll cry. No one wants to see that.”
Despite his warning, tears prickled her eyes.
“What did I just tell you?” Caldon said, frowning. But then he sighed and tugged her into his arms.
She hiccupped, but managed to get control of herself before she descended into full-blown sobbing. “I’m sorry,” she said shakily. “I just need a minute.”
“Take all the time you want, Sunshine,” Caldon said, tucking her under his chin. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His soft declaration smoothed a jagged piece of her, and she was soon able to pull away and say, “I really messed up last night.”
“No more than usual.” His mouth quirked. “It’s becoming a running theme with you. At least no one got stabbed this time.”
“I feel like I did,” Kiva said, pressing a hand to her pounding head. Now that emptying her stomach wasn’t her priority, she was becoming increasingly aware of her throbbing temples and tired, achy muscles. “Are you sure we didn’t train today? I feel like I’ve been trampled.”
“Cresta says it’ll ease in a few hours,” Caldon said, nodding over Kiva’s shoulder. “But you’re going to feel rotten until then.”
Kiva followed his gaze toward the front of the ship, where she spotted the redhead sparring against both Torell and Ashlyn, the former meeting Cresta’s blade, and the latter attacking relentlessly with wind and earth magic, trying to trip them both up. Kiva marveled at their skills — not just
the two generals, but Cresta herself, who was slowly gaining the upper
hand.
She moves like a fighter.
Caldon’s words from weeks ago returned to Kiva, and she saw the truth of them now. Having had regular practice with competent opponents, there was no denying how talented Cresta was with a blade, how single-minded she was in her focus.
But Kiva didn’t keep her eyes on the trio for long. Instead, she nervously scanned the rest of the deck, seeing Eidran and Naari sitting in the shade of the foremast, cleaning their weapons, while Tipp was standing with Galdric on a higher deck at the back of the ship, pointing up at the sails, which were straining against an unnatural amount of wind. It was then that Kiva realized they were gliding through the water much faster than was surely normal, making her wonder if Galdric was using his magic to propel them forward.
Delaying the one question she was most anxious about — that being, where Jaren was — Kiva asked, somewhat stupidly, “Why are we on a ship?”
Caldon pulled an apple from his pocket and handed it over. He waited for her to take a tentative nibble before answering, “The others didn’t have any luck with the anomalies, but they realized while they were gone that, given how far Lyras is from Ersa, we’d make better time by sailing — especially with two wind elementals among us.”
So Kiva had been right: Galdric was using his magic to quicken their journey.
“This is one of Sibley’s vessels,” Caldon said, patting the railing. “His crew, too, but they mostly keep to themselves — aside from when they’re gawking at our magic. To them, we’re like something out of a legend.” He shook his head, amused, then went on, “There’s a cook, which means no travel rations for a few days, and there’s also a groom, who’s keeping the horses calm — they’re in stalls down below, in case you’re worried about that beast of yours.” He arched an eyebrow, before adding, “And since I know you’re desperate to ask but afraid of the answer, Jaren’s with the captain right now, so you can stop looking terrified that he’s going to appear out of nowhere.”
Kiva acted as if she had no idea what he was talking about. Caldon chuckled, but his humor faded quickly, turning into concern as he said, “It’s
a small ship, Sweet Cheeks. We’ll be crammed together for another few days before we’re close enough to windfunnel the rest of the way. You won’t be able to avoid him. And I think, after what he heard last night —”
“Please, don’t,” Kiva interrupted hoarsely. The small bite of apple wasn’t sitting well, but she was unsure if that was because of her angeldust detox, or their conversation. “I’d really like to forget that happened.”
“You can forget all you want,” Caldon said, “but that doesn’t mean he will.”
Kiva closed her eyes briefly before turning to stare out at the ocean. In a trembling whisper, she asked, “Do the others know about last night?”
Caldon snorted. “Do you think your brother would be sparring right now if he had any idea? We told him you weren’t feeling well, and you took a moradine tonic to sleep it off. He didn’t bat an eyelash when Jaren carried you onto the ship.”
Kiva swiftly repressed that image. “What about Tipp? I know Naari won’t say anything, but Tipp . . .”
“Jaren told him you wouldn’t want Tor knowing what happened,”
Caldon said, “so Tipp promised to keep quiet. But be warned, he’s probably going to be clingy for the next few days. He didn’t like seeing you like that.” Caldon nudged her shoulder. “None of us did.”
Kiva attempted a weak smile. “You should have seen me in Zalindov.”
Caldon’s face darkened, and she instantly regretted her words.
To keep his mind off what she’d gone through at the prison, she quickly said, “I’ve never been on a boat before. Is there anything I need to know?
Or do?”
“For today, you just need to rest,” Caldon said. “When you’re not at risk of puking your guts up, we’ll make the most of our time and train as much as we can until Galdric magics us to Lyras. We won’t have many more chances after that, since Lyras and Arden are close enough for us to windfunnel directly between them. And after Arden . . .”
“We head back to Vallenia,” Kiva said, her insides churning at the thought of confronting her sister.
“Hey, don’t jump ahead,” Caldon said, nudging her again. “One day at a time.”
“But I still have so much to learn,” she said, rubbing her temples as the throbbing intensified. “What if I can’t —”
Caldon interrupted, “There’s no point living in what-ifs. Don’t waste energy fearing problems that don’t yet exist.”
“But Zuleeka does exist.”
“Yes, but you don’t have to face her today.”
Kiva still couldn’t let it go. “And Navok exists, too.”
“Navok’s not your problem,” Caldon said firmly.
“I’m sorry, did you miss the part where I almost had to marry him?”
Kiva spluttered.
“I’ll rephrase: Navok’s not exclusively your problem,” Caldon said.
“Yes, fine, we all know he’s desperate to get his hands on you and your magic, but the larger picture is, Navok is a problem for all of us, in the sense that he wants to take over the world. And with an anomaly army, he could probably do that. But that’s why we’re on this ridiculous quest — to stop that from happening. We’re already doing everything we can, Sunshine, so let go of your worries and trust the process.”
Kiva mulled over Caldon’s words, her gaze dropping to where Sarana’s second ring still encircled her finger. Her mind skipped from one thought to the next, before she finally asked, “Now that we have two of the rings, should we just leave the others where they are? Even if Navok finds the final two on his own, he’ll still need the ones we have.” She’d barely started speaking before realizing there were too many unknowns for them to leave it to chance. Ashlyn had once wondered if they were playing into Navok’s hands by retrieving the rings, and Jaren had agreed that they probably were, but at least the Hand would be safe in their possession — and they could use it against Navok. Never mind that Kiva’s main reason for getting the rings hadn’t changed, that being to return Jaren’s magic. Maybe then she’d be able to rid herself of her allconsuming guilt and finally move on from everything she felt toward him. Gods knew that was something she desperately needed, now more than ever after the humiliating events of last night.
“Judging by the look on your face, you figured out your own answer,”
Caldon said, tipping his head toward the sun and closing his eyes, his golden hair shifting in the breeze. “But to confirm, it’s too risky. If we have all the rings, we have all the power. And we can use that power to make our own anomalies to combat his, should he move on Evalon.”
“We’d only use the Hand on willing people though, right?” Kiva said carefully. “Those who actually want magic and volunteer to fight?”
Caldon turned back to her, frowning. “I can’t believe you just asked that.”
Kiva felt instant remorse. She knew that wasn’t the Vallentis way, to force someone into something they didn’t want. “Sorry. I just —”
Her mouth snapped shut, but not because of Caldon’s indignant expression; it was because two new people had appeared on the deck, one wearing a feathered captain’s hat, and the other — Jaren.
He did a double take when he saw her, and said something quickly to the short, dark-skinned captain, before heading straight for where she and Caldon stood.
Kiva made an alarmed sound and blurted out a nonsensical, “Headache.
Sleep. Now. Later.” Then she ran from Caldon, ignoring his frustrated voice calling after her. All she knew was that she couldn’t face Jaren. Not yet. So she hurriedly retraced her steps from earlier, almost tumbling back down the narrow stairs before somehow finding the boxy cabin she’d awoken in.
More alert now, she realized there were two small beds, not one, but she didn’t spare a thought to who her bunkmate was, slamming the door and locking it, then sliding down with her back resting against the wood.
A moment later, there was a loud knock, followed by the sound of the
handle rattling.
“Kiva, let me in.”
Jaren’s command caused her racing heart to stutter. She was frozen, unable to think of anything but the previous night and everything she’d said while under the influence of the angeldust.
“Please, Kiva,” he said, his voice muffled by the wood. “We need to talk.”
But Kiva didn’t want to talk. She knew why he was there — because he was Jaren. Last night, she’d shared too much, and now he knew exactly what she was feeling.
Knowing he wants nothing to do with me kills me. Every time I look at him, I feel like I can’t breathe.
Kiva closed her eyes as renewed embarrassment swept over her.
I’m in love with him, can you believe it?
She covered her face and drew her knees up to her chest, wishing she could go back in time, wishing she could forget.
But wishes were for fools. So Kiva just sat there, waiting until she heard a quiet sigh and then his footsteps moving away. Only then did her tension fade, her shoulders slumping as her adrenaline fled, the pain in her temples now shrieking. But she didn’t move, didn’t try to get more comfortable.
Instead, she attempted to piece together her heart, knowing it was impossible — because it had just walked away.
Kiva spent the rest of the day locked in her cabin, but she didn’t waste it sulking or fretting. It took a few hours for her stomach to settle, and a few more for her headache and muscle pains to ease as the last of the angeldust was purged from her body, but she used that time to think, to strategize.
Yes, she’d made a fool of herself the previous night. Yes, she’d said things she wished no one — especially Jaren — had ever heard. But she couldn’t change the past, so now she just had to live with it.
It was that realization that had her leaving the small cabin that night and venturing onto the deck once more, following the rowdy sounds of voices until she reached an open door toward the back of the boat, beneath where Tipp and Galdric had been standing on the higher deck that morning. It was the captain’s quarters, Kiva realized once she edged closer, and inside he was dining with her friends and what must have been most of his very boisterous crew at a large wooden table loaded with steaming food. Her stomach made a gurgling noise as the scents of cooked meat and fresh bread hit her, and she pressed a hand to her middle, uncertain if she was hungry or still nauseous. But she didn’t feel the urge to run toward the railing again, so she inched forward, her nerves thrumming as she spotted Jaren sitting at the crowded table beside Tipp and Torell, the three of them laughing at whatever the young boy had just said.
The image knocked the breath out of Kiva, and she must have made a jerking motion, because Jaren looked up and saw her, something shifting over his face that she couldn’t read. She didn’t turn away this time, only moved further into the room, relieved that the captain and his crew had engaged the rest of her companions enough that they didn’t notice her sneaking in and claiming the empty seat beside Caldon.
“It’s good to know my training’s paying off,” he said, passing her a basket of warm rolls.
“Sorry?” Kiva asked, busy trying to calm her nerves.
“I’ve never seen you run as fast as you did today.”
Kiva grimaced and turned to him with an apology on her tongue, only to see the laughter in his eyes. She pulled a face, causing him to chuckle.
“Are you good?” he asked. “Or should we anticipate another mad dash?”
“I’m good,” she promised, taking a cautious bite and nearly moaning at the soft, buttery flavor of the dough. “I may have . . . overreacted, earlier today.”
Caldon held up his thumb and forefinger, pressing them together. “Just a
smidge.”
“In my defense —”
“No defense needed,” he said, loading her plate with food. “You panicked. It happens to the best of us. Now eat up, because we can still fit in some training tonight. And just so you know, Cresta’s been waiting all day for you to feel better so she can scream at you without feeling guilty about it. My guess is, you don’t want to face that on an empty stomach.”
Kiva winced and didn’t dare look toward where the redhead was talking with Naari, Ashlyn, and the captain, knowing she deserved whatever the ex- quarrier was going to say. Instead, she scanned the unfamiliar faces of the crew and asked, “Where’s Galdric? And Eidran?”
“Galdric’s resting.” Caldon took a sip from his wooden tumbler. “He’s been using magic for most of the day, and he has to be careful not to deplete it entirely or he won’t be able to windfunnel us once we’re close enough to Valorn. Ash will be taking over for him tonight, with the two of them sharing the load for the next few days.”
“And Eidran?”
“Poor bugger is seasick,” Caldon said, but there was humor in his voice.
“It hit him just after lunch. I’m not sure who had the worse day: you or him.”
Concerned, Kiva asked, “Why didn’t someone come and get me?”
Caldon sipped his drink again. “Does your magic work on seasickness?”
“I don’t know, but even if it doesn’t, I’m still a healer,” she said. “I could have helped him some other way.”
“Perhaps. But that would have required you unlocking your door,” he returned dryly.
That caused Kiva’s cheeks to heat. “I needed time to think.”
“And did that time do you any good?”
While Caldon was speaking, Jaren stood, and, after nodding to Torell and ruffling Tipp’s hair, he left the table, smiling politely to the crew members he passed on his way toward the door.
Kiva’s mouth turned dry and her pulse kicked up speed, but she quickly answered Caldon’s question. “I’m about to find out.”
And then she pushed back her seat and hurried after the crown prince before she could change her mind.
Jaren was already halfway across the deck by the time she exited the captain’s quarters, moving swiftly enough that she had to call his name, prompting him to turn with clear surprise.
Kiva approached slowly. The night was dark, but the ship was lit by luminium lanterns that cast a soft glow across the wood, with moonlight reflecting off the white sails overhead. It was absurdly romantic, but she quashed that thought and concentrated on the speech she’d spent all day memorizing.
When she was only a few feet away, she stopped to gather herself, unconsciously taking in how his dark leathery armor fit him perfectly and highlighted his strong muscles and his — No! Kiva scolded herself sharply, knowing now was not the time to be admiring how good he looked. This was already going to be hard enough for her.
Summoning every ounce of her courage, she looked over his shoulder at the ocean and recited, “I want to apologize for what happened last night — for what I did, and for what I said.” She slid the topaz ring from her finger and handed it to him, careful not to touch his skin as she dropped it into his palm. “I know that must have been uncomfortable for you, not just the angeldust part because of everything with your mother — and just to say, I — well — you now know I’ve had some problems with it in my recent past” — she hugged her elbows awkwardly — “but I didn’t choose it because I wanted to choose it. As I said last night, the Mystican saw it was one of my greatest fears, and she exploited that.” Kiva winced at the unspoken mention of what her other greatest fear was, and hurried to add, “So to clarify, it’s not something I’m tempted to partake of willingly in the future, in case that’s a concern.”
Aware that she was flubbing her speech, she quickly went on, knowing the next part would be even more challenging. “As for everything I said about you, I think it’s best if we both try to forget, um, all of that.” She
winced again at her poor articulation, before making herself meet his gaze.
In the back of her mind, she noted that his face wasn’t blank and emotionless like it had been for most of their journey, but she couldn’t afford to think about that, and only said, with bald honesty, “Drugged or not, it wasn’t fair for me to heap that on you. You’ve made your feelings clear, and I fully respect what you told me. The last thing I want is your pity, so please don’t —” Her voice cracked, but she coughed and continued, stronger now, “I just think it’s best if we put it behind us, and move forward as if it never happened.” She took a fortifying breath and finished, repeating some of what Caldon had said earlier that day. “It’s a small ship, and even once we’re on dry land again, we still have to be near each other until this is all over. But I promise that once we have the rings, and Zuleeka and Navok are out of the picture, you’ll get your wish and never have to see me again.”
Kiva staunchly ignored the ache in her heart as she said the words, revealing nothing outwardly, even if she was weeping on the inside. She wouldn’t break down in front of him — she’d already experienced enough humiliation in his presence to last a lifetime.
With her speech done, she waited for his response, part of her wanting to flee before he could speak, but the other part aware that it was time for her to face her problems rather than run from them.
As luck would have it, Tipp chose that moment to bound out of the captain’s quarters, with the rest of their friends following more sedately behind. He skipped right over to Kiva and nestled into her side, looking up at her with worried eyes as he asked, “Are you f-feeling better?”
Emotion flooded her and she drew him closer. “Yeah, buddy. Thanks.”
It was true — and not just about her physical state. She felt lighter now that she’d confronted Jaren, even if he hadn’t had a chance to reply before they’d been interrupted. Perhaps it was better this way, she told herself.
They each knew where the other stood, with her having made it clear that she wanted to ignore what had happened and move on. He would respect that; he would probably even appreciate that.
But even so, Kiva still intended to avoid him as much as possible until the day came when they could finally part ways. It was the only way she knew how to protect herself — from him.
With their conversation disrupted as the group pulled Jaren into a discussion about their sleeping arrangements and plans for the next day, Kiva felt no guilt in allowing Caldon to draw her away to train for the next
few hours. They could have continued longer, but Cresta finally lost patience and dragged Kiva back to what was apparently their shared cabin.
The redhead then proceeded to yell loudly — and at length — before forcing a promise from Kiva that she would never, ever take angeldust again. Only then did Cresta yank her into a rough hug, before flopping onto the second bed, rolling over, and promptly falling asleep.
Having rested for most of the day, Kiva struggled to do the same, remaining awake as the boat rocked beneath her. In an effort not to think about Jaren, she turned her mind to their quest for the rings, considering everything she knew about Sarana Vallentis while unconsciously fiddling with the amulet around her neck, her fingers running over the jewels in the crest. There was something about the Hand of the Gods that had begun to bother her of late, but every time she tried to figure out what it was, it eluded her, like an itch she couldn’t quite scratch. That night was no different, and no matter how hard she sought for clarity, none came. But her attempt helped calm her mind enough that she eventually felt the pull of sleep, and she didn’t resist when it finally claimed her.
