Page 12 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

“What’s the big rush to get off the boat, anyway?” Tyree calls out.

“He’s right. Given what we saw in Cirilea, we’re safer at sea,” Captain Aron adds.

“Surely, we are not.” The sirens are not a tall tale meant to keep people from these waters. He, of all people, should know that.

The captain studies my ruined dress. “If it is blood you require, I would be willing to barter mine for a price. I did not take any poison.”

I turn away, not to hide my disgust at the proposition, though it is vile—he is a filthy, hairy brute with pocked skin and yellowed teeth—but to hide my panic. Given the circumstances, I should be happy I am no longer desperate. But I don’t like not having answers.

Why do I no longer crave blood? Hudem’s moon flares and the need is suddenly gone? Just like that? Is it only me who is afflicted in this way? And what has happened to make this possible? All these questions I need answers to, and I will not get them in Westport. If we even make it there.

But from Northmost, I could travel to Bellcross and to Lord Rengard. Theon will know what is happening. He might also have a way to contact Zander. They have been friends since childhood. He would choose Zander over Atticus, that much is certain.

“Your not-companion will have a better chance of surviving his injuries through Westport, into Ybaris, where there are healers,” Captain Aron says, as if that might sway my mood.

“She is the one who stabbed me in the first place!” Tyree’s bellow of laughter carries. “I assure you, Annika will wait until I am too weak to stand and then put me in a wagon and slit my throat.”

“And then I will take my dagger back from your corpse,” I muse.

“See? At least she is honest.” Tyree smiles. “From Westport, she will run to Shadowhelm and beg for safe haven from the king and queen—”

“I do not beg,” I snap.

He goes on, ignoring me. “Given Annika was once betrothed to their human son, they may grant it.”

“I still am betrothed to him.” Technically, anyway. Mother made the arrangements, and no one has officially called it off. “And how did you know about that?” Very few did.

“After all that Ybaris accomplished, you are still surprised by what I know?” Tyree sighs heavily. “I’ve never understood it, though. Why would a human king and queen wish a plague upon their people?”

“Because they understand the value of an alliance, unlike other royal families who are too stupid and hateful to see through their ignorance.”

“I think she’s talking about me,” Tyree mock whispers.

The captain shakes his head, but he’s grinning, entertained by our bickering.

“And I would not have infected him.”

“But you would have fed off him.” The amusement has slipped from his face.

I shrug. “If he permitted it.”

“I’m sure you could be very persuasive.” There’s a cold glint in his eyes. “It’s neither here nor there now.”

Wait. “Why do you say that?” What does Tyree know about what is happening to me? Is this something else the Ybarisans have caused?

“Because you are now betrothed to me.”

Right. That foolishness. “I am not! I never agreed to it.”

“Minor detail.”

“Your mother never agreed to it either, and Atticus never intended to honor it. He certainly won’t now that you’ve abducted me. He’ll have your head for this. He’ll have all your heads!” I waggle a finger at the sailors nearby. Some sneer, but most duck to avoid my attention, especially the ones whose emblems glow. Why is their blood still poison to me when I do not crave it?

Tyree tucks his hands behind his head as if relaxed. The sun glints off the multitude of silver scars across his sinewy forearms, where the legionaries subdued his elven affinity with a merth blade over the past weeks. “See what I have to look forward to, Captain?”

I smile through my simmering rage. “It is a good thing you will be dead soon, then.”

He shrugs. “Maybe not. There are sometimes healers in Westport.”

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