Page 70 of Hijack the Seas: Seismic

Yes, I did! Which only made it worse. If they hadn’t been so dead set on taking me down, that little stunt would have gotten him killed! And it wouldn’t have even helped me and—

And then I was hitting him, which didn’t make much of an impact as I was currently as weak as a kitten. And found my wrists captured after a second anyway, which only increased my fury. “You could have died!”

“So could you.” The green eyes were practically neon, never a good sign. “And as you said once to me, why is it all right for you to risk your life every moment of the day, but I can’t risk mine to save you?”

“There were three dozen fey! You weren’t going to save me! You were going to die alongside me!”

“And you think I wouldn’t prefer that?” I abruptly found myself on my back, with an angry war mage on top of me. And, okay, I couldn’t complain about sleepiness now. Pritkin looked like he had when he’d burst into that kitchen, having tracked me down after our last fight.

And yeah.

We hadn’t had a chance to talk that out, had we?

“You think a crown means a damn to me if you aren’t there to share it?” he demanded. “What do you think I’d do if you die? Have you ever considered that? What do you think I’d do?”

“You’d finish this,” I said, staring up at him, my anger dissipating in the force of the heat coming off him.

Pritkin said a very bad word. And I guessed it felt good because he chased it with a few more. “We are through with this, do you understand? I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, even talking to Bodil. As if she could somehow protect us!”

“I don’t think that’s too likely after the impression I made,” I confessed. “I’m sorry; I should have listened—”

But he was already shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. I had time to think about it while you were out, something this place didn’t afford me before. And we’re not going to be her champion; we’re not going to be anything. When we get out of here—if we get out—we’re done. We’re packing up and—”

“We are not—”

At which point I didn’t get hit back, but I did get shaken hard. Which wasn’t much better as the back of my head impacted the floor a few times before he noticed, grabbed me up, and cradled the bruised item in one strong hand while hauling me against his chest. Which was going a mile a minute because Somnolence or not, remembering that awful moment in the watery death trap had woken him up.

And set his resolve.

“Pritkin,” I began after a moment as he rocked us back and forth, but apparently, it wasn’t my time to talk.

“Do you think I care about any of this?” he whispered against my hair. “Crowns and thrones and power and wealth—” he spat another curse. “That’s what my father lives for. Not me!”

“But you’re a war mage. You took an oath—”

“To protect the Pythia, which is what I’ve damned well been trying to do!”

“It’s a little more comprehensive than that,” I said softly, but he wasn’t listening.

“And I used to be a war mage. Something I took on after my wife died to give some meaning to my existence. The Corps was hemorrhaging mages whenever they faced a demon, so I stepped in to help, and maybe I did. Or maybe that was a lie I told myself since what else was there to live for?”

His voice grew rough. “The fey were right. I never should have been born. But I was and can do one good thing with my life. I can get you out of here!”

Somehow, I didn’t think he meant out of the cell.

“And go where?” I asked.

“The hells.”

That had been a rhetorical question, so I hadn’t expected an answer. Especially not that one. “What?”

“The answer is the hells.” He pulled back to look at me. “We can go there, Cassie—”

“But . . . you hate the hells—”

“I hate most of them; there are a few exceptions. And they make up an entire universe, which even the council doesn’t know the full extent of! We could travel for years, centuries, and never see everything.

“And maybe, somewhere, find a place for us. Something beautiful in its way, and strange and different, possibly enough to accept a couple of vagabonds without too much fuss. . .”

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