Page 33 of From the Myths of Kings

Rook ducked under the pinned-back flap of Joya’s medical tent and ushered in the three Merfolk he’d found that morning. Joya’s apron was stained with blood and her short curly hair was pulled into a haphazard bun. Sweat beaded on her brow as she placed glowing hands on an injured Mer in the far corner of the tent. The golden light faded once she’d mended their torn flesh, and she rose from her chair to meet Rook at the entrance. While her magic was powerful, the constant use of took a toll on her. Dark shadows swept under her eyes and her normally bright gaze was dulled with fatigue.

“Welcome,” she said as the three refugees staggered into the tent. “You may find a cot.” She turned her focus back toward Rook once they’d settled. “How is the pain today?”

“Manageable,” he replied honestly. Truthfully, his exhaustion had dulled his senses. A small mercy all things considered.

“You look like you’re about to collapse.” Her Healer’s eyes roved over him, taking in his haggard appearance. “You should rest.”

“Agreed,” came another voice from the tent entrance. Sune Kreston stood in the doorway, a tight-lipped frown adorning his face as he surveyed Rook. As usual, Sune’s back was rod-like, and his eyes flashed with calculations. “You’ve hardly slept these last few days.”

“You haven’t either,” Rook countered.

Sune grimaced. “But I’m not the one with a cursed stab wound that won’t fully heal.” He gestured for Rook to follow him out of the tent, not bothering to look back to make sure he followed. His arrogance was still ever-present.

With a fleeting glance over his shoulder at a sympathetic-looking Joya, Rook followed Sune out. The humid air felt like walking into a blanket. Though the Mer captain stood a few inches shorter than Rook, his snobbery more than made up for it. But despite his straight-laced attitude, Rook had to admit he admired Sune’s unwavering scruples and devotion to his people.

“I mean it, you should rest.” They stopped under the shade of a palm tree, taking in the tide as it lapped up the beach.

“But there are still more refugees out there yet to be found. Besides, we’re not going to be here much longer. I want to help as long as I can.”

Sune leveled bright green eyes at Rook. “Let me put it this way. You’re not going to be of any use to us half-dead. You’ll need your strength when you and Aurelia rejoin Saoirse at Raj’s Point tomorrow. And there will be plenty of time to make yourself useful after you’ve been fully healed at the Forge.”

Rook chewed on the inside of his mouth and crossed his arms restlessly. A gust of salty air swept through his hair. “If I am fully healed. We don’t know if it’s even possible. This could be it for me. What if this is my last chance to be useful?”

Sune was quiet for a long, loaded moment. A gull cried overhead as the tide went out. “Saoirse believes the Northern Wastes are rich with ancient magic that can heal you,” he finally said. “I would choose to have hope if I were in your position. You cannot afford to think otherwise.”

Rook leaned back against the palm tree, finally allowing the bone-weary exhaustion he’d been holding at bay to surface. He was terrified of hope. The possibility of failure and unfulfilled hope was the source of his constant unease. He blew out a breath.

“You’re right. I’ll be no use to you half-dead.” He wouldn’t admit to being afraid to hope in front of Sune, but he could admit that running himself ragged would only hinder their mission.

“We’ve established a good system here,” Sune observed, sweeping his gaze over the encampment sprawled across the white-sanded beach. “We’ve supplied them with all the tools and resources they’ll need to continue the Mer relocation efforts. And we now have many Mer volunteers who have decided to stay and assist with the rebellion’s rescue missions. Our numbers will only continue to grow.” A hint of pride flared in his voice. “Our people are a hearty, determined folk.”

“I wish I could spare more time here,” Rook said honestly, surprising himself. He’d grown accustomed to the long days and stream of new faces. For the first time in his life, he actually had autonomy over his actions. He hadn’t been ushered into a sham captain’s position at the guidance of his sister. He was on the ground, doing real work. He felt like he was really making a difference here.

“We’ll stay afloat here once you’ve taken your leave tomorrow morning,” Sune replied with a curt nod. “I’ll make sure that we continue expanding our rescue operation. Thank you for all your help. I know the main reason you came was because of the diversion. But your help has been valuable even so.”

“No,” Rook said quietly. “That’s not the main reason anymore. I would’ve come regardless of the diversion. The war has begun, even if there hasn’t been a true battle yet. I made my choice to fight.”

For a moment, something like admiration gleamed in Sune’s eyes as he surveyed Rook. Apparently, he was surprised by Rook’s endurance and enthusiasm. Rook privately relished the fact that he’d proven the Mer captain’s expectations wrong and showed himself worthy of being in the rebellion. Not a spineless, spoiled Auran prince after all?

“It has been an honor to have you. We didn’t get to know each other during the Tournament, did we?” Sune offered somewhat awkwardly, surprising Rook. He clasped his shoulder. “I’m glad that we understand each other a bit better now.”

Rook felt a warm feeling in his chest. They weren’t exactly friends, but he could feel a bridge of mutual respect forming between them. It made him feel proud. Less alone, even.

“But Saoirse and Hasana need you. If everything has gone to plan, they should be reaching Terradrin’s shores any moment now. Aurelia has been a ball of anxiety without Saoirse, counting down every minute until they’re reunited,” Sune chuckled. Some of his cold, uptight profile melted at the mention of Aurelia, and Rook found himself smirking. “No doubt she’ll be up before dawn tomorrow morning, ready to travel to Raj’s Point before you’re even awake.”

Tomorrow morning.

Rook was hit with a wave of shock. They’d been here for three days already? In the flurry of activity, he’d hardly spared a thought for his meeting with Raven. He took in the faint flush of pink and orange blooming along the horizon. Hel’s Teeth. The sun was already setting.

“You and Aurelia make a remarkable team,” Rook said hastily. “You should be proud of all the lives saved because of your efforts here.” He pushed off the palm tree and flexed his wings. “I’ll take your advice and rest while I can.”

Before Sune could respond, Rook launched himself into the sky. He pumped his wings against the briny wind and climbed through tendrils of clouds until the tents below were dotted along the shore like distant seashells on the beach.

15

ROOK

Rook’s pulse fluttered in his throat as Widow’s Cove came into view. The sheltered inlet was obscured by a thick wall of towering trees that framed a rocky shoreline. Unlike many of the inlets that carved into the Isles of Mythos, Widow’s Cove did not have a beach. Instead, the claw-shaped shoreline was composed of steep cliffs that abruptly dropped off into a solid wall of stone. Unruly waves crashed upon the rock face, shattering stray pieces of driftwood in the process. Teeth-like rocks jutted out of the thrashing water, lying in wait to impale passing ships. The lethal cove had made widows of many sailors’ wives after their ships were wrecked by its turbulent currents. At the center of the cove’s reservoir, a mass of splintered ships had accumulated to form a veritable island of its own

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