Page 47 of The Lost Child

I bent down and swept my arms under her knees, and she let out a squawking sound as I quickly had her gathered in my arms.

“Right,” she muttered nervously, twisting in my grip until she could bury her head in my chest. “Don’t fucking drop me.”

I growled at the implication.

Canavar never dropped anyone.

I turned back toward the shoreline, and started running. Nerissa didn’t have time to protest as I threw myself into the air, my wings pumping hard to gain the initial height needed to get in the air.

I ignored her odd noises and concentrated. Nerissa wasn’t heavy, but this odd … sickness … had left me weaker than normal. In the past I had no trouble throwing men to their deaths from great heights or delivering prisoners to Master. Now even her slight weight had me out of breath.

Master would not be pleased to see me so weakened.

I pushed through the stiffness and pumped harder. I was sweating profusely by the time we made it high enough to fly comfortably, but Nerissa didn’t say anything. She merely gripped my neck harder, her heart beating frantically in her small chest.

I curled her tighter to me and made for the island, taking a roundabout path so we avoided the fleet of ships.

* * *

“It took you long enough.”

Nerissa stood between the master and me, her stance firm and her eyes determined. Master noticed this and frowned.

“I was injured. He was injured,” she offered, stepping to the side to try and appear more unaffected. She was very bad at hiding her feelings.

The master’s eyes narrowed, his dark beard and mustache twitching. His hair hid a lot of his expressions, but you could always tell how he felt from his eyes.

“He was badly injured enough to directly disobey me?” Master questioned, eyes assessing me coldly. “I see no new scars.”

I straightened at that. After a battle, the master always looked for new scars. Sometimes I got more or less food, depending on what he found.

“The orders were to bring me back, right?” Nerissa pressed on, trying to deflect the master’s attention back to her. “I learned about my powers. I do have powers, by the way. I figured you would be interested in that? I healed him. That’s why he has no new scars.”

The master was very interested in that. I didn’t like how that cold, calculating gaze shifted from me to her.“Have you?” he replied, voice high with disbelief.

“I’m a blood witch,” Nerissa stated succinctly, trying and failing to hide the proud tilt of her chin. “I met a few blood witches, and they agreed to teach—”

She fell silent as the master held up a hand, stopping her.

“Enough. I already heard all about your powers from Captain Maguire.”

Nerissa flinched as if he’d reached and struck her. I nearly growled at such a response. Did the master hit her like he hit me? Anger and heat flooded my veins at the thought.

“We are bringing you news of an impending attack,” Nerissa continued. “The royal fleet from Cantrada is coming. You have to prepare.”

The master’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You tryin’ to command me, girl?”

Nerissa threw her hands in the air. “Your ego is ridiculous! Quit playing at pirate lord and sound the alarm! They’ll be here by nightfall!”

The master didn’t say a word. I could feel the danger radiating from him. Why didn’t Nerissa sense it?

“You ordered us into battle,” Nerissa shot back, only a slight tremor in her voice, “and I won. I know what I’m talking about.”

The master stood, slamming his hands down on his desk. “You bloody butchered his fleet, along with mine! Twelve ships gone and scores of men thanks to your witchcraft! I was tricked all those years ago; everyone knows blood witches are demons, only good as decorations hanging from a rope off the gallows!”

Nerissa took a step back, alarmed at his vitriol.

“No one came back on either side from that fight. No one except you. Men, countless arms, supplies, and ships lost! What do you say to that?”

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