Page 192 of Children of Blood and Bone

“What’re you trying to say?”

Roën puts a hand on my shoulder; it’s so close to the scars I flinch out of instinct.

“If you can’t do this, I need to know. Don’t—” He stops me before I interject. “This isn’t about you. I couldn’t speak for weeks after I got my scars. I certainly couldn’t fight.”

It’s like he’s in my head, like he knows my magic’s run dry.I can’t do this, I scream inside.If an army’s waiting, we’re sailing to our deaths.

But the words stay in my mouth, burrowing back down. I have to trust the gods. I need to believe that if they took me this far, they won’t turn their backs on me now.

“Well?” Roën presses.

“The people who gave me my scars are the ones on those ships.”

“I’m not putting my men in danger so you can get revenge.”

“I could skin Saran alive and I still wouldn’t have my revenge.” I shrug off his hand. “It’s not about him. It’s not even about me. If I don’t stop him tomorrow, he’ll destroy my people like he destroyed me.”

For the first time since the torture, I feel a hint of the old fire that used to roar louder than my fear. But its flame is weak now; as soon as it flickers, it’s blown out by the wind.

“Fine. But if we go in there tomorrow, you better stay strong. My men are the best, but we’re going against a fleet. I can’t afford for you to freeze up.”

“Why do you even care?”

Roën’s hand flies to his heart, feigning a wound. “I’m a professional, love. I don’t like to disappoint my clients, especially when I’ve been chosen by the gods.”

“They’re notyourgods.” I shake my head. “They didn’t choose you.”

“Are you sure?” Roën’s smile turns dangerous as he leans against the railing. “There are over fifty mercenary clans in Jimeta, love. Fifty caverns you and your staff could’ve stumbled into. Just because the gods didn’t blast through the ceiling of my cave doesn’t mean they didn’t choose me.”

I search Roën’s eyes for mischief, but I find none. “That’s all you need to face an army? A belief in divine intervention?”

“It’s not a belief, love, it’s insurance. I can’t read the gods, and in my line of work it’s best not to mess with things I can’t read.” He turns to the sky and shouts, “But I prefer to be paid in gold!”

I burst out laughing, and it feels foreign—I never thought I would laugh again.

“I wouldn’t wait on that gold.”

“I don’t know about that.” Roën reaches out and cups my chin. “They did send a mysterious little maji into my cavern. I’m sure more treasure will follow.”

He walks away, pausing only to call back, “You should talk to someone. The jokes don’t help much, but talking does.” His foxer smile returns, mischief lighting in his steel-colored gaze. “If you’re interested, my room’s next to yours. I’ve been told I’m an excellent listener.”

He winks, and I roll my eyes as he walks away. It’s as if he can’t stomach being serious for more than five seconds.

I force myself to turn back to the sea, but the longer I stare into the moon, the more I realize he’s right. I don’t want to be alone. Not when tonight could be my last night. Blind faith in the gods may have taken me this far, but if I’m going to get on that island tomorrow, I need more.

I fight my hesitation and walk through the ship’s narrow hallway, passing Tzain’s door, then my own. I need to be with someone.

I need to tell someone the truth.

When I come to the right room I knock softly, heart pounding when the door swings open.

“Hey,” I whisper.

“Hi.” Amari smiles.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX

AMARI

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