Page 159 of The Queens and the Kings
“Who?”
“Himmel.”
“I have no idea who that is.”
When Pedr grasped the wheel, Britt released him. In the interim, his boat had moved away from the mainland on a steady wind, preventing the hull from bashing into rocks. Himmel’s doing, probably. A weak current drifted them slightly south, angling away from the mainland on the east.
Britt’s hair trailed in filthy ropes around her shoulders. A torn sleeve on her left shoulder, a slight slash of blood on her cheek, hints of it around her nostrils, and dust all over her face. Rough day. She propped her hands on her hips and stared at him with such soulful eyes.
“Well, you’re alive,” she said.
He didn’t tell her that her high expectations, the bright eyes, looked just like their father. Pedr saw him in Britt almost every day. He grabbed her into a hug and held her for too long. She wrapped her arms around his waist. Her shoulders slumped. She smelled awful—like dirt and wyvern. He didn’t care.
“You’re okay?” he asked.
“Fine.”
“I was terrified for you.”
“I know.”
“What happened?”
“I’ll explain everything.” She swayed. “I just need?—”
He shoved her back, studying her with a more critical eye. Alive, surely. Breathing, for certain. But definitely worse forwear. Weakness hinted at the edge of her smile. He pressed a palm to her cheek, as their father used to. But she wouldn’t remember that.
He did.
“Keelhaul, scalawag, and off of the locker for the mizzenmast!” he bellowed. The string of nonsensical words activated arcane. There’d be a full feast for her in the galley. Well, hopefully. It worked about half the time, but a scent of something roasted and buttery filled the air now. “There’s plenty at the table, and fresh water. Clothes, too. Freshen up while I get the ship going.”
She tilted her head back. “Going?”
“To The Isles. I need to feel the arcane first, see what’s wisest. Before that, we need to talk.” He cleared his throat, anticipating a gut punch from the curse. His intention to speak to her about the Siren Queens and tell her everything should cause pain.
None came.
Curiosity filled her features. “About what?”
“Siren Queens.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Siren Queens?”
He grinned. “Siren Queens. Siren. Queens.Siren Queens!”His shout startled Denerfen, whose wings rustled.
Pedr laughed, and it had a tint of madness about it.
“But . . . why?”
“I’ll explain later.”
“Does it involve Henrik?”
“Eventually, yes.”
Light illuminated her eyes. “Okay!” She shoved away, veering for the food. Denerfen, startled, popped off her shoulder and elevated. He chirruped to Pedr, head cocked as if to ask,What just happened?
“We’re in trouble, Den,” he muttered. “She’s a littletoofond of that soldat, if you ask me.”
