Page 10 of Blood on the Tide
Damn her for attempting to appeal to my better nature. She should know by now that I don’t have one. “Do you really think these good crew members haven’t been murdering their way through Threshold in the meantime? The last time you saw them, they were chasing down that mother dragon and her kit. They probably killed them both.”
Her mouth tightens. “Don’t do that.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But I do. I’m being intentionally cruel. Evelyn is a realist most of the time, but every once in a while she gets these rose-tinted glasses that drive me out of my mind with frustration. People—whether they be vampire, witch, or boring old human—are inherently selfish, cruel creatures. They will always put themselves first, and they will always villainize the things they don’t understand.
Better to strike first and not give them the chance to stab you in the back the moment you turn around.
“Please, Lizzie. For me.”
She’s manipulating me. She’s not even trying hard to cover it up. Irritation flares, and I step away before she can reach out and put a hand on my arm. “Stay out of trouble after I’m gone, Evelyn. If I have to hunt you down and save you again, it’s going to put me in a mood.”
“Gods forbid.” She still has that look on her face, and it makes me want to snarl. She hasn’t gotten soft, exactly, but she’s lost an edge that I didn’t realize I craved until it was missing. Not that this woman is mine to crave any longer.
A flash of red in the corner of my eye draws my attention despite myself. The selkie watches us, her expression carefully blank. The urge to reach out and touch her with my magic is nearly overwhelming. I’ve very carefully not thought about what her vibrance would taste like, have kept myself well fed to avoid any... temptations.
I force myself to refocus on the port taking shape in front of us. Some of the islands in Threshold are so wildly different as to be on another planet. Viedna isn’t one of those. The closer we get, the more the rocks and trees and mood remind me of western Ireland. Though the houses up on the little hill just inland from the bay are different. They are domed, with bright geometric patterns on the outside that give me an instant headache. I’m not sure how I missed them before. They’re an eyesore to be certain.
Next to me, Evelyn shivers and pulls her coat tighter around her. “I definitely prefer the northern islands. This cold cuts right down to my bones.”
The cold doesn’t bother me the way it does her. I glance around to find most of the crew burrowing into heavy coats and cloaks. There are exceptions—Nox, for one, seems completely unbothered. And... the selkie. She’s in a sleeveless white dress that should make her look like a virgin sacrifice; that much white just begs for the red spill of someone’s lifeblood. She doesn’t so much as shiver in the face of the wind whipping about. Interesting.
“What do you know about Viedna?” I find myself asking.
Evelyn gives me a sharp glance but doesn’t comment on the fact that I’ve never expressed interest in any of our stops before. She worries her bottom lip. “They’re pretty neutral when it comes to the Cwn Annwn. The town leader is a big fan because of the steady trade they bring, and he does a lot of pandering to the Council. It means their ships pass through pretty regularly. Maeve’s family has owned a tavern there for a few generations, long enough to be a town staple. Anyone who comes through Viedna stops by for a drink, which makes her an invaluable asset. I’m sure Nox has mentioned that last bit a time or three.”
I’ve sailed with two crews since arriving in Threshold, and both treat ports as a vacation just for them. When my family has cause for celebration, things get... messy. But I’ve never witnessed revelry like sailors drinking to fate and fortune and a thousand other toasts to greater powers, some familiar to me and many more not. After my first experience witnessing Eyal weeping his eyes out, so deep in his cups I could barely make out his words as he confessed something to me with the utmost seriousness only the drunk and dying seem to manage, I chose not to accompany the crew on their tavern escapades.
“I see,” I finally say. Despite my best intentions, my gaze slides to Maeve again. She hasn’t been gone from home for long, but there’s still that strange blankness on her expression. She stares down the approaching village as if it’s a death sentence with her name on it.
“Lizzie.” Evelyn is painfully serious. “Leave her alone. Find another way to get to the Hag. She’s been through enough.”
“I’m surprised that, bleeding heart that you’ve become, you don’t want me to help her reclaim her pelt.”
Something like guilt blossoms in Evelyn’s green eyes. “The rebellion needs her here.”
She has truly bought into all the rebellion shit. I’ve been aware of it, of course, but every time she says something like this, it spins me for another loop. I sneer. “Worry about yourself, Evelyn. I’m not the one planning to face down the entirety of the military force that patrols this world. That’s you.” And I’m not worried about her. I certainly haven’t considered restricting her blood flow until she passes out and then hauling her to the nearest portal that seems relatively harmless to save her from what feels like an inevitable death.
I’m a member of the Bianchi family. I know what a losing fight looks like. One of the first things my mother ever taught me was not to step onto a battlefield unless I knew I could win. With my superior speed and strength, not to mention my magic, there are few fights I stand to lose.
But the one Evelyn and Nox and the others seem determined to have?
It’s impossible. No one but the Council even knows how many Cwn Annwn crews are active. Evelyn, Nox, and this rebellion are playing a game of whack-a-mole against an enemy who’s more powerful, more numerous, and not afraid to raze entire cities to the ground.
Not that I have empirical proof on the last point. I’ve simply seen how they conduct business, and it’s a logical jump to make. The only reason the rebellion has functioned for so long is because the Cwn Annwn don’t know they exist. The moment that changes, it’s all over.
I have to get out of here before then. I’d prefer to take Evelyn with me, but she’s made her choice known. She’s staying to be part of this impossible battle. She’s a vicious fighter and more than capable of protecting herself, but there are limits to her magic resources. In a battle of attrition, she’s dead in the water.
It’s not my business. Not anymore. Maybe not ever. She was never really mine. There was a moment when she might have been, when I could see a future spinning out between us, but things ended before that nebulous fantasy could be realized. There’s no going back now.
Gods, I’m becoming as morose as my brother. Wolf pretends to be chaotic so that no one looks too closely at how deeply he feels every cut. It’s not a problem I shared with him until recently. I look forward to digging this new weakness out with my bare hands at the first available opportunity.
Putting some distance between me and Evelyn is the first step.
The hardest step, perhaps.
I barely wait for the first boat to be lowered into the water before I vault over the railing and descend to it. Nox is already aboard, and they raise their eyebrows at me. “Careful there, love. Someone might accuse you of running from something.”
“Shut up and row.” I belatedly register that the selkie is also aboard. Of course she is. Nox is determined to make her someone else’s problem, which means they won’t want her to linger on the ship. The selkie and I have that in common.