Page 78 of A Wrecking of Salt and Fire

Katrin rolled her eyes, grabbing for another wooden arrow in the quiver slung across her back. “So I’ve heard.” But she listened anyway, creating a T with her body, pulling her arm back, using the line by her ear as a guide.

The arrow whizzed ahead. At first it looked like it might skim right past her mark, but the wind picked up and seemed to alter its course, the arrow striking the tree just inside the mark. Katrin squealed.

“See, I told you.” Ander strolled up behind her. “Elbow up always helps.” He flashed a bright smile, softening his tanned skin and thick brows.

“It’s the first one I’ve made.”

Ander’s smile turned to a grimace. “Well, I’m still proud, I guess. You’re going to need some more practice though, if you ever hope to leave this place.”

Katrin swatted him across the arm. “I thought I wasn’t your prisoner, Captain?”

His calloused hand crept up to her cheek, brushing his fingers over her parted lips. “You never were. And never will be.” His soft voice caressed the depths of her mind, sending heat to places he had been before. The delicate words lulled the wicked self-deprecation that so often crowded her mind.

But she couldn’t feel this way. At least not now. It complicated too many things. Ander told her as much that day on the training mat. He needed control in his life and so did she. As much as she felt a preternatural draw toward him, his lemon and salt scent, his captivating eyes, she could not be his. Not with Kohl waiting for her. Not when the fate of her people—the fate of Katrin herself—hung by a single thread.

Katrin plopped down on the hard forest floor, snatching a vat of water from her leather pouch. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Prince?” Her eyes crinkled and nose scrunched.

“I came to tell you that we will need to start heading back to the coast. So it’s a good thing you got at least one successful shot out of this thing.” He pointed to the wooden bow now lying beside them.

Katrin chucked a small rock at him. The captain let out a light laugh that seemed to wrap around her very bones, igniting her soul. “And where exactly are we going?”

Ander’s eyes sparkled the most brilliant color she had ever seen. It reminded her of the Alentian shores on the brightest of summer days. Pure, magnificent turquoise.

“Home, Starling. We are finally going home.”

It felt strange to be back aboard The Nostos. As Katrin ran her hand along the faded rails of the ship she felt safe. At peace with her decision to stay. Like this place, with these people, was where she was meant to be.

The salty smell of the sea and low tide filled her lungs as the ship began its journey back to Mykandria. At least, that was where Katrin thought they were going. Ander had not specified where home was, but they had discussed rallying both the smaller isles and Alentus.

He had to have been from nearby with his parents trading with hers all those years ago. Maybe it was Xanthia or Cantos. Both isles were known for their less seedy merchant trade compared to Lesathos. It was probably Cantos, the isle of gemstones and craftsmanship. Only a skilled artisan could have made that delicate comb she loved so dearly, that intricate sword hanging at her hip. It did not matter where he was from. What mattered was whether she would ever see her sister again. See her home. See her people.

On the horizon, the skies began to darken. Katrin could only hope a storm wouldn’t deter their course. But the swirling wake in the tide and the looming clouds ahead did not seem reassuring. She retreated below deck, where all but Kristos and a few men, who stayed above to steer the ship and man the sails, stood around the heavy wooden table that lay in what they were now deeming the war room.

Charts lay scattered across, covering every inch of space on the table. Ander was pointing at an area north of Nexos, part of the continent above. From what Katrin could remember, it looked like the location of the port entrance to the Kingdom of Hespali. He must have been showing where they needed to avoid. No doubt the birthplace of Giselle, Queen and Goddess of Nexos, was allied with the man in Voreia who was capturing and slaughtering women in Cyther.

“We will start by taking port at home. Gather supplies and see if my parents are willing to give us aid. Then continue on to the other isles and, of course, Alentus. With Katrin on our side they could be our biggest ally.” He shuffled more of the charts around, places she did not recognize flagged with tiny pins.

Katrin squinted at the small markings that seemed to drift around each chart. “You keep saying home. Where is home, Ander?” She didn’t understand why no one spoke of the destination. Katrin could see Thalia bite her lip, Leighton shifting his weight from knee to knee, avoiding eye contact with her.

Ander rapped his fingers over the dark wooden table, his thick brows scrunching together. The captain’s breathing seemed to become forced, letting out a long sigh. “Home—yes. I was hoping to discuss this in private tonight, but—”

A shudder ran through the room, a force so powerful it rattled the wooden planks of the The Nostos. Katrin could feel it charge up her skin, a tremor of magic sparking in the distance. Something was coming for them. Something dark. Something that was able to break through the ward woven by gods.

Katrin locked eyes with Ander, whose lips thinned and jaw clenched, his fingers looked like they were digging into the sides of his chair. Was it anger? Or terror? Or both?

The captain pushed back from his chair. “Weapons at the ready, men, we aren’t expecting anyone to cross the border of the wards.” His voice was ice, a tone Katrin hadn’t heard from his lips before. He reached for the crossed swords mounted on the wall, the ones that resembled the banner that flew on the navy and silver flags of The Nostos.

Ander’s eyes flashed a deep silver, the color of the storming skies above. Katrin almost thought she saw a field of fog flicker between his fingers, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Her power on the other hand, welled deep in her gut. The spark of a bolt of lightning, the starlight drained from the skies above, the shroud of darkness from the underworld circling her entirely.

They sprinted up from below, arrows and swords in hand. Ander made it to the deck first, followed by Leighton, then Thalia, then the remaining crew. Last was Katrin, weaponless except the dagger at her thigh that seemed to radiate heat as she stood on the slippery deck.

Katrin’s breath hitched as she stared at that ship heading toward them. The dark sails she knew so well. The red and orange flags it flew, a viper stitched in the center. The Hydra. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. How could he break through the wards? Kohl wasn’t born of the gods, no magic flowed through his veins, and yet there he was, sailing full speed down wind.

Chapter Forty-One

Kohl

Kohl could see them now. He didn’t even need the spyglass Dolion had given him. At first, it was just a handful of people manning the ship. A few men tending to the navy sails attached to two masts, a taller man at the helm of the ship. They were in the thick of a storm that seemed to start and end with the outline of The Nostos.

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