Page 135 of The Ever Queen

In the corridorsof the palace, guards trembled, blades fallen beside them. Blood stained the chins of some, others were coated in sweat, trembling.

What happened here?

To race through the halls of my captivity unhindered was disquieting, but I kept close to Alek. Occasionally, we’d both stumble, bracing against a wall, or clinging to a tapestry, when the earth shifted. After the feat of caging the ships with the seafloor, my father would fatigue soon.

By then, I wanted to be far from this isle.

Aleksi rounded the corner, shouldering through an arched door. My heart bottomed out. Mira crouched in front of Sander, her palms pressed against his middle. Blood. So much blood.

“Sander!” I dropped to his side.

He winced and shifted. There was a gilded knife rammed through his middle.

“Fine,” he said through his teeth.

“You’re not fine.” I brushed a palm over his feverish brow, brushing his dark waves from his eyes.

“Help Jo . . .” Sander squeezed his eyes, blowing a painful breath through his nose.

“Where is Jonas?” Aleksi snapped.

“There. He’s in there.” Mira waved frantically at an archway covered in black satin drapes.

Aleksi held a palm against Sander’s sweaty cheek, a silent plea to stay alive, then ran through the curtains.

Mira blinked through tears. Her fingers were coated in blood from holding the blade steady in Sander’s flesh. To remove it, we’d face him bleeding out, to keep it there much longer . . . time was running out.

“It worked,” Mira said, hurried. “The attack at the shore drew most blades to the sea. We found the door you told us about and slipped in without more than two guards in the way. I still had enough strength to cover us. Shadows. Simple, you know? Wouldn’t be seen.” Mira dragged a breath, shuddering down the length of her throat. “She . . . she moved so quickly. Like a wraith, and . . . and our blades, they were gone. Like they were made of nothing but mist.”

“She?” I looked to the draped doorway. Skadi. My fingers curled around the hilt of my dagger, anger, a touch of betrayal, in my veins. I rose without realizing.

“Livie.” Mira reached for me. “Don’t—”

She didn’t have time to finish her plea before the door in which Alek and I had come burst open. Tait sprinted in, at his back was Tavish, a wild sort of look in his eyes. A few sea fae and sea witches, but the black eyes in the midst of them were the ones I held.

My father, kohl smeared across his face, strode to me in five paces. He squeezed my arm in a bit of reassurance before dropping beside Sander.

“Come on, boy,” he whispered, a grin of a dozen things on his face—worry, pain, desperation.

Sander’s grin followed, weak with blood on his teeth. “Just tell . . . tell my maj I died saving . . . saving Jo from doing . . . something stupid.”

My daj hugged Sander’s head to his chest and pressed a kiss to his hair. “You’re not going anywhere. Your own father has been stabbed a time or two. House Eriksson doesn’t go from stab wounds.”

Sander’s smile faltered. He closed his eyes and with one hand clung to my father’s arm. Tears burned at the sight. No, Sander wasn’t my blood brother, but he’d grown up, played, slept, and spent winters and summers, in my realms as much as I’d done in his.

My daj was his in this moment.

Sea witches knelt beside Sander, humming sweet, lyrical melodies as they sprinkled the wound with herbs.

“We’re not boneweavers,” one witch whispered, pressing a palm to his heart. “But we might help.”

“Stay with him,” I said.

“Livia,” my father warned.

I was already through the curtains.

A round room filled with iron sconces and tallow candles added a smoky smell, and underneath was a burst of incense—sage and clove—so savory my insides twisted, repulsed. A fine bed with satin coverlets as delicate as a silk weaver web was tucked near one curved wall. A man slept, silver hair over his shoulders, broad chest rising peacefully.

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