Page 111 of Of the Stars and Sea

I spew it out over the side of the boat.

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I try again. This time, slower. When I pull the waterskin away, I carefully swallow and the water stays down, easing a bit of the pain in my throat.

The corners of my eyes are wet as I look up at Grayson. “Thatwas the barrier to protect the mountain. It’s meant to be . . . uncomfortable in the hopes that whoever comes in contact with it will turn around.”

I take another deep breath in, thankful for the air that fills my lungs. “It didn’t seem to affect you at all.”

“No. It did not,” he states plainly.

Okay. I guess we will talk aboutthatlater too.

“The cave is just ahead.” He nods and I look behind myself to find there is a large triangle-shaped entrance. The edges of the stone are set into straight lines, almost as if some magickal creature carved the triangle into a perfect shape.

Cool wind whips around us once we reach the foot of the mountain. The cuffs in my hair clink against one another like a wind chime.

Craning my head backward, I peer up at the black stone mass. It’s so tall, the sun disappears somewhere behind it and I can no longer see the glittering peak.

“Get your daggers ready.” Grayson’s voice is just above a whisper.

I unsheathe the one on my left hip and decide to reach for Tommy’s dagger on my right instead of the twin that matches my other.

“Let’s hope I don’t need them,” I say as Grayson propels us into darkness.

Chapter 27

“What are you doing?” I ask when I hear Grayson lay one of the wooden paddles inside the longboat. We’re far enough now that the light from the entrance has winked out, leaving us surrounded by pitch black. The only thing I can see is the bright blue of Grayson’s eyes as they shift through the darkness.

“The tunnel is too narrow for me to use both paddles. One will have to do for now.” I hear one of the paddles dip into the water, followed by small droplets of water landing on my pants, soaking the fabric through to my knees as he transitions the paddle to the other side of the boat.

“Don’t stand up,” he says. “The roof is low enough for you to hit your head.”

My stomach tightens. “I guess now isn’t the best time to mention that I hate being confined in small spaces.”

Grayson’s laughter brings a sense of comfort to my fraying nerves. “Then it is a good thing that you cannot see.”

“Right,” I mumble.

Time is an unmeasurable thing in the tunnel. After some while, I can’t be sure if we’ve been moving for an hour or three days. All I know is that my muscles ache from staying hunchedover, making sure that my head doesn’t scrape the top of the ceiling on accident.

The longer I sit in the darkness, the more questions seem to rise to the forefront of my mind. Questions that are meant for another time—not now, when we have no idea what danger lies ahead or what ancient things might be lurking below the water beneath us.

But my boredom grows near irritating and I ask anyway, “Are you a half-breed?”

I must have taken him by surprise, because Grayson’s eyes immediately flick to meet mine. After several moments of silence I think he might not answer at all and frustration begins to rise within me. For all he knows of my past, I’ve come to realize that I know very little about his.

“What makes you think that?” he finally asks and I feel that frustration seep away. It’s not exactly an answer, but it’s not silence, either.

I shrug. “You’re immortal, but you appear as a normal man. Your eyes glow in darkness and you were able to cross the barrier without trouble. Were one of your parents Mer? Or was your mother a sea witch?”

I hear him take in a long breath, as though the conversation at hand strains him. “No, I am not a half-breed. My parents were of a . . .differentrace. One that was lost to this world long ago.”

“What happened to them?” I try to make my words quiet, but they echo loudly in the small tunnel.

I see his luminescent eyes shift forward again when the dip of the paddle hits the water’s surface. “They were taken away from me, much like your father was taken from you.”

My throat grows dry. “I am so sorry, Grayson.” Aching to reach for him, I lean forward and search in the dark until my hand finds the top of his thigh. He stops paddling and places his hand over mine, giving it a squeeze.

“It is the greatest sorrow,” he says, words bouncing off the tunnel’s walls. “Losing those whom you weren’t strong enough to protect.”

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