Page 56 of Of the Stars and Sea

I lean into his side and whisper, “I’m pretty sure that a fearsome pirate wouldn’t be bothered by a few bugs.”

A few more pops come from behind us and we both turn to find Grayson’s men slapping at the blood-sucking insects on their arms and legs while groaning and cursing.

Shrugging, I look back up at Tommy. “I guess I was wrong. Even scary grown men who kill their way to finding treasure can be taken down by a few mosquitos.”

We both laugh, and for the first time since I stepped onto Grayson’s ship, I feel a glimmer of joy that only pure laughter can evoke. Smiling at Tommy, I feel thankful for his presence, even though I’m aware that he is not here to be my friend, but to inform Grayson of everything I say and do that may go against our bargain.

The tan of my skin shows through the wet fabric of my new tunic by the time we arrive at the west entrance to the caverns. From what I can recall my father teaching me, there are threeentrances to the amass of tunnels carved below the earth’s surface. During our few ventures to the inner jungle, he showed me the western entrance and the northern entrance, but there should be one from the east as well.

Whoever we are meant to meet is likely using one of the other entrances, as we are the only ones I’ve heard since we entered the thick wilderness.

We all stop at the cave entrance. A large black granite boulder looms over us like a mythical creature waiting to swallow us whole. Jagged pieces of rock shoot down from the top like shark’s teeth. When my father first showed me the caverns here, I was terrified to walk past the entrance for fear that one of the pieces might fall down and pierce me straight through. Even now, as I look up at how slivers of sunlight beam against the midnight rock, I feel a chill skate down my neck.

Zaos moves to stand next to Grayson while the rest of us face them. “Whatever you are about to hear in the depths of these caves is not to be repeated. Attempting to spread the insights of what is discussed today is punishable by death.” Grayson takes a moment to look each one of us in the eyes and when his gaze lands on me, I feel a question lingering between us. I’ve already betrayed his trust once and now he’s had no choice but to bring me along to keep a watch over me and he wonders if I can be trusted.

Whatever lies within the depths of the caves must be important for him to assert such a harsh judgment on anyone who might be inclined to disclose what we witness—especially when the people here aretrustedpeople.

But wealth can and often does change everything quickly.

“Is that understood?” he asks, eyeing us again. Every one of us nods in silent agreement. I look up at Tommy, who looks particularly determined to appease his captain. His normally bright eyes are narrowed with focus, and while there is usually asmall curve to his back, he now stands straight as an arrow with his hands secured behind himself.

I swallow the chuckle that rises in my chest, not wanting to embarrass the poor boy.

“Rowenya, you’re with me.” Grayson steps forward and gestures for us to make our way through the cave entrance.

“Of course I am.” I roll my eyes and fall into step next to him. Zaos and Tommy are right behind us and the rest of Grayson’s men pair off, taking up the rear.

Darkness descends only a few steps past the entrance. Not a trace of light shines through the tunnel the further down we go, so I walk carefully, lifting each foot higher than normal when I step forward to ensure I don’t trip over anything. I can feel Grayson next to me as the space grows smaller, his arm brushes against mine and knowing he’s near in the pitch black gives me an odd sense of comfort.

“You look especially delicious in that corset, Little Pearl,” I hear him whisper close to my ear. My stomach immediately soars and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

“You can’t even see me,” I retort. Extending my right hand to reach for the wall, I steady myself. It’s been so long since I came here with my father, I cannot recall where the tunnel shifts directions.

“Haven’t I told you already? I see all things.”

Turning my head in the direction of his voice, I look up where I assume his face is and that’s when I notice his eyes.

Blessed stars, his eyes!They’re glowing like midnight stars against the void. Hues of emerald green and the bluest sapphire merge together in a whimsical dance. And those flecks of silver stardust seem to whisper hello as they twinkle at me.

“You can see in the dark,” I realize and his rumble of laughter makes my cheeks flush.

“A hidden talent.”

I snort. “Not so hidden anymore. Your eyes areglowing, Grayson.” It must be some sign of his immortal lineage. Perhaps his mother was a Mer who fell in love with a land dweller. Or maybe it’s some ancient trait passed down through the Dark Moon witch coven from The Barren Wastelands. I rack my mind to think of what other creatures might possess the gift of night sight.

“Careful.” I feel his hand wrap around my waist and he pulls me into him. “The path leads to the left.”

Sure enough, I reach my hand out in front of me and my palms meet cold, wet granite. If I’d taken one more step, my face would be bleeding from the hard impact. I mutter my thanks and his hands linger on my hips for a moment as I stare into his otherworldly eyes.

“Are we just supposed to stand here while the two of you gawk at each other?” Zaos grumbles from somewhere behind us.

Startled, I step away from Grayson and pull on the bottom of my corset to adjust myself, even though the only person who can see me is him.

“Let’s keep going . . .” Grayson’s low voice cuts through the darkness right before I feel him find my hand and interlace his fingers between mine. Then I feel his breath tickle the cuff of my ear as he adds, “So you don’t mar that beautiful face with a wrong turn.”

Rough calluses on his palm scrape against my own as he tugs me forward and we fall in step together. Even though his hand dwarfs mine, there’s a familiarity there. Both of our hands mark the journeys of our lives. The one he holds has a long scar over the ridge where my wrist meets my thumb from when I cut myself practicing with my father’s daggers as a child. The wound was so deep, my mother had to stitch me up. I didn’t know if I would be able to use my hand the same ever again.

I wonder what secret stories Grayson’s hands might reveal. If only I could see them instead of being blinded by this damn darkness.

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