Page 45 of Pearls of Salt and Sacrifice

Reva eyed her ensemble with no small amount of envy. Cassandra would have a cow if Reva ever tried to wear something like this outside of her bedchamber…however, it looked excessively practical for physical activity.

Then, the girl tossed her head back with a laugh and bounced to her feet, waving at Belen.

“Did you see that?” She jogged toward them, dodging around her companions to reach the edge of the sandpit. “I smashed that landing.”

Belen laughed as the girl stopped in front of them, bouncing up and down on her toes. “Yes, I saw. Stop jiggling for a moment, will you? I want you to meet someone.”

The girl rolled her eyes but planted her feet firmly in the sand, hands on her bony hips, and looked impatiently at Reva. After only a moment, however, her piercing blue eyes widened. “Wait. Is this her? She’s the human, isn’t she?”

“Princess Reva Morrigan,” Belen said, motioning first to Reva and then to the young girl, “meet my youngest sister, Damaris. Watch out for this one: she bites.”

Damaris clacked her teeth and flashed a savage smile at Reva. “Don’t listen to her: I’m an angel.”

“With horns and a tail,” Belen muttered under her breath.

Damaris and Reva laughed in unison. The angel princess hooted and performed a perfectly poised backflip, kicking sand into the air around her. She landed with a thump and threw her arms high in a gesture of triumph.

Reva loved her instantly, this wild child who didn’t hide herself behind downcast eyes and meekly folded hands. She saw herself as she was three years ago—a girl with no father or mother, only a stepmother she didn’t like and a kingdom waiting for her to grow up and become the queen they needed her to be. A girl who wasn’t afraid of bloody knees and bruised knuckles. A girl who would rather walk the decks of ships than read about them.

She clapped her hands in approval and couldn’t restrain the raw admiration and kinship she already felt for this elf girl. “I think you and I will be wonderful friends.”

Damaris grinned back. Then she pursed her lips and swept a critical gaze over Reva. “What do you like? Acrobatics? Knife throwing? Bow and arrows?”

“Damaris,” Belen said around a groan.

“Swords.” Reva didn’t even have to think about it. “I’m also not half bad with the knife throwing, but my aim could use improvement.”

Damaris’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, I do like you.” She turned to the side and cupped her hands over her mouth, bellowing: “Charis, bring me some swords!”

“Absolutely not!” Belen grabbed Reva by the arm and tugged her away from the sandpit. “Jareth would murder me. You two can compare your swords later.”

Swallowing her disappointment, Reva cast Damaris an apologetic look over her shoulder. But Damaris just grinned and waved merrily before diving back into the jumping, tumbling throng of elf children.

“I like her,” Reva said as Belen ushered her across the courtyard.

Belen laughed and rolled her eyes. “Jareth does too. I can see why he chose you.”

The warmth drained from Reva’s body, overshadowed by the ever-present anxiety. Perhaps Belen had meant her words to be complimentary, but they felt more like barbs.

Had there ever been any choice?

Jareth had clearly chosen the only eligible princess on the market—and he’d tried to seal her fate with a kiss she hadn’t asked for. Then, instead of freeing her from the Andromeda, he’d dragged her to a new prison.

“Ah, here we are.” Belen’s soothing voice dragged her back to the present. They’d entered a small grotto lit by several orbs, filled with fish, that hung from the ceiling. “There are clothes in the wardrobe. Help yourself to anything you find. If you’re tired, I can let you rest—or I can bring you something to eat?”

“I’d like to see Jareth, please,” Reva said without hesitation.

Belen’s smile faltered, and her posture stiffened as she turned from the wardrobe she’d begun to open. “I think he needs some time—”

“Time is something neither of us have.” When Belen flinched, Reva did as well. “I’m sorry to be harsh, but your brother brought this on himself. He brought me here, and now he must deal with me. Please, find him and inform him that I will be expecting an audience in half an hour.”

Belen hesitated but then turned to retrieve something from the wardrobe. She padded across the twisted seaweed rug and held out a blanket. “You can use this to dry off,” she said quietly. “I’ll go find Jareth.”

“Thank you.” Reva accepted the thick blanket, burying her chilled fingers in the fabric. While a little rough to the touch, it warmed her skin.

Belen dipped her chin and slipped past Reva toward the door. She hesitated, however, and turned back, one hand on the seashell handle. “If I may, Your Highness,” she said, pausing to purse her lips. “I know what my brother did is unforgivable. But try to remember—your kingdom isn’t the only one at risk. Please. That’s all I ask.”

Reva flinched, the faces of Ophelia the artist and Damaris the wild girl flashing through her thoughts. The door closed and left her alone, yet she felt haunted by the faces of girls…girls whose lives hung in the balance.

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