Page 79 of A Wrecking of Salt and Fire

Then the rest came. First a young man around his age, who must have been the captain—the pirate—who took his beloved. Then another man with darker skin, shouting orders at the crew. His second. The third was a thin woman with long white hair and a demon looking creature attached to her hip. Then more of the crew followed, weapons at the ready.

The last person came out from below the ship. Kohl knew exactly who she was. The dark brown hair plastered to her face. The angry stance she held when she saw the ship before them. When she recognized what ship it was.

Katrin was not bound, not caged, not a prisoner. And Kohl, Kohl screamed at the betrayal he saw before him.

“We need to be on that ship now!” he yelled to the soldier manning the ship’s wheel. The seas under them continued their violent thrashing against the side of what should have been the fastest ship in the isles.

“Yes, Your Highness. If we hold a steady course to the port side of their ship we should be able to latch on to board,” the stocky man replied, his grip firm on the wheel.

The rain began to pick up, its droplets like small knives lashing against Kohl’s fuming skin. She was not in distress. She was not a victim. She was not taken; she had left. Or maybe she was brainwashed, or they threatened her life, or his, or her sister’s. That made more sense than what was laid out before him. Katrin had not left of her own free will. Did not help this pirate and his men while they tortured and rampaged the eastern shores and seas of Mykandria.

The thunder that began to roll in from the distance sounded overhead as they inched closer to the enemy’s ship. The Prince of the Lost Isles would meet his end today.

Lightning began to strike along the sides of each ship as they drew near. The gods were angry. Lightning, the symbol of Alentus. One of many powers Kohl’s betrothed would possess now, since her twenty-fifth birthday had passed. Katrin would not have been able to control it yet, and Kohl wondered what other powers she would be trying to tame.

“Your Highness, we are close enough to drop the platform! Men are at the ready,” the stocky soldier yelled out again.

“Prepare to fight on my command. Our only priority is to get Princess Aikaterine back on this ship and safely home to Alentus.” Kohl unsheathed his long blade from his back and waited to jump over to The Nostos.

Dolion approached his side. “And as we agreed, Your Highness, the prince is mine.”

Kohl’s eyes narrowed at the ruddy man. The same offputting feeling crept up his spine as he sliced his blade across Dolion’s throat. He was a loose end—that’s what Kohl’s father would say. “Throw his body overboard,” he yelled to one of the soldiers. “I don’t want his blood staining the ship.”

He could see Katrin now, more clearly despite the downpour of rain and salty sea burning his eyes. Could see her shock and confusion, but also a light. A glimmer of happiness as she saw Kohl for the first time in months. But then—then he saw the man that stood beside her. His dark black hair matted from the rain, eyes matching the storm brewing above, harsh jaw and an air of confidence that only came from one place. From one person.

Chapter Forty-Two

Katrin

“Of course it would be you!” Katrin's lungs tightened at Kohl's scream as he jumped from the platform now connecting the two ships, his boots landing with a thud. His sword was drawn as Kohl flipped the hilt around and around in his palm. “Oh, won’t my father be excited to learn where you’ve been hiding the past few years,” he hissed.

Ander took a step between him and Katrin, shielding her from his line of sight. “I’m sure he will be quite upset to know I’m not where he left me.” She didn’t understand. Did these two know each other? Why did King Athanas have anything to do with Ander, or where he would be?

“Can someone explain what is going on? Kohl? Ander?” Katrin flashed between the two men. What if Ander was right? What if Kohl knew what his father had been up to this whole time? She could feel the bile rising in her throat, the tangy taste of regret and disgust on her tongue.

Kohl began to laugh. A deep and ferocious chuckle that made the hairs on Katrin’s arms stand up. “Ander! Is that what you’re calling yourself these days?” He took a step closer to Katrin and the prince, Kohl’s sword pointing directly at him. At the way he held his arm in front of Katrin, like Kohl would ever really harm her. “What other lies have you spewed, Nik? This man is Nikolaos Alexander Kirassos, Prince of Nexos. Nexos, the same people that took you five years ago. The same people who tried to kill you so they could conquer the isles unopposed. Did it not seem odd that it happened again? Right as we were to be married? Right before the Acknowledgment?”

Ander turned and looked at Katrin, his eyes washing over in a silvery gaze. Katrin’s heart sank as her eyes locked with the captain’s. No—not just a captain. Prince Alexander. Prince Nikolaos Alexander. How could she not have seen it before? She cocked her head to the side, really taking him in. The deep black hair, the olive skin, eyes the color of the sea beneath them. King Nikolaos’s features, only younger. She was a fool.

Her eyes narrowed, burning hot as the fire of the stars rising inside her. Ander—Alexander—had taught her how to control the fire inside her, but never when she had been this caught off guard. Never when her emotions had been all consuming. Never when he caused them.

“You!” she screamed. “It was you all along!” Her blood boiled as she pulled the dagger from her thigh and shoved him straight in the chest with her other fist. Alexander stood—just stood there, not fighting back an inch—until she had him pressed against the edge of the rail, dagger firmly planted against his neck.

The brand on his neck—on Thalia’s neck—not the mark of their captor. It was their symbol. She had heard his voice in her kidnapped daze. It was not because he had tried to rescue her. It was because he was the reason she was taken in the first place. A six letter nameless ship. The Nostos.

“Starling—” his gaze wandered to hers looking with utter pleading, willing her to see past her emotion, “Starling, please.”

Everything from the past two months started flooding in her head. How he spoke about his family, how he couldn’t return home, the masquerade, him rescuing her from those men on Lesathos, her father meeting them in Skiatha. Oh gods—everything that happened in Skiatha. Had it all been fake? An illusion in her mind? King Nikolaos could manipulate the minds of people, had that trait passed down to his son? Had her father even been there at all?

Leighton lunged for her. “Katrin, it’s not what it looks like. Let him explain.” Her other hand outstretched, a bolt of light flashing from her palm and hitting the nauarch straight in the chest. Leighton stumbled backward, collapsing on the ground.

“Katrin, what are you doing? You have to trust us!” Thalia screamed, now clutching Leighton’s limp body. He was still breathing, but the bolt would knock him out until she had answers.

“Take a step closer, Seer, and you’ll meet the same fate as him,” Katrin seethed, her other hand still pressing the blade firmly to the captain’s neck, her elbow pinned into his shoulder.

The power was settling low in her stomach. She could not think straight. All she could see was the blinding light and the man who stood emotionless before her. She was a goddess who was no longer in control.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the psychí transform. No longer a small lithe cat, Mykonos was instead an all white mountain lion, no doubt twice Katrin’s size. The creature’s fangs glistened in the moonlight as she growled, her yellow eyes fierce and deadly.

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