Page 95 of Of the Stars and Sea

Grayson makes me feel . . .safe. In a way I’ve never had the opportunity to know. Not when so much has been taken from me. And certainly not when there’s still unanswered questions about my past.

There was a time when I would have sacrificed anything to go back. To see my father again so I might ask him why he did what he did. To tell my mother that for all the love she had for me, it still wasn’t enough after she stopped fighting for us. But those empty wishes no longer sting the way they used to. These days, I find myself looking more toward the future and . . . all that is right in front of me.

“Careful!” I hear Collin yell from above me.

He’s on the rigging, just below the boom of the foremast sail, instructing three other men on where to hammer the wooden reinforcements. A piece of wood falls to the main deck and nearly hits another crew member.

I let loose the breath I was holding when it lands about a foot away from the man. Startled, he hops to the side then looks up. “You almost took off my head you bastards!” He shakes a fist at them and I swallow the chuckle threatening to burst past my lips.

Men are so dramatic. The worst he would have gotten is a bruise, but I can’t blame him for yelling. It might not have killed him, but it certainly would have hurt.

“Do you need any help?” I call up to Collin.

Shading his eyes from the sun with his hand, he peers down, scanning the deck until he finds me. “We’re almost finished up here, Miss Rowenya. There’s no reason for you to bother climbing the rig.”

My shoulders slump a little in disappointment. The only person who lets me help them is Tommy, and that’s only when he has a pile of potatoes to peel.

“Suit yourself!” I tell Collin before walking back to the ship’s railing.

Grayson is meeting with his helmsman to review the various paths we might take through Dead Man’s Passage. He invited me to join, but my nerves have started to ignite about the journeyahead, so I opted to leave them alone to discuss the routes while I get some fresh air.

One look from Grayson told me he knew exactly what I was feeling. Which makes me wonder if he’s feeling the same.

A shadow blankets the warmth of the sun and I look to my right to find Zaos.

“I thought you were in the meeting with Grayson and his helmsman.”

There’s a creak from his black leather vest as his chest expands widely on a deep inhale. “I was.”

Leaning forward, I look past him to Grayson’s quarters. The door remains shut and the rays of the sun beam off the red washed windows, making it impossible to see inside.

“Have they finished discussing the routes?”

Zaos looks down at me with his dark eyes and I find my hand instinctively moving to the pommel of my dagger.

He huffs. “Relax, Rowenya. If I had plans to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

I roll my eyes, but let my hand relax beside my hip. “It doesn’t exactly sound like you prefer me alive.”

His hands find the railing as he gazes out over the churning water. Even with the storm far away, the ocean’s surface is angry.

“My Captain has taken an interest in you, for reasons I’m not completely convinced are worthy of his attention. But he’s given every man on this ship an order to protect you with our lives.” Those ebony eyes meet mine again, but this time, his face softens. Just a little. “When our Captain commands us, we follow his command. Without hesitation.”

Zaos’s words wash over me like a bucket of ice water thrown across my bare skin. Grayson told his men to protect me with theirlives?

My initial thought is that it makes sense. I am the only person on this ship capable of translating the old language. We have no idea what we will find in the belly of the Solise Mountains. He might require my knowledge if we discover another artifact. Which means my life is, in fact, one of the most important upon this ship.

But after last night . . .

And the way Zaos is eyeing me right now . . .

Something tells me that Grayson gave that order to his men for a completely different reason.

“Well, at least I won’t have to clean your blood from my daggers then.” I smirk.

A ghost of a smile plays at the corners of his lips, but it’s gone the moment another thunderous boom echoes from the distance.

“The last time he had to navigate through the stone isles, he barely made it out with his life. Yet, here we are, waiting for our chance to pass through them again.” Zaos’s tone is grim as a shadow from the cloud-blocked sun sweeps across his face.

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