The Lost Fae (The Twisted Crown #3) - A.K. Koonce Page 0,26

it.

Behind us, I can see the shoreline. A large rut is still left in the sands to show where the boat once sat for many years. How long until the Fae wake up and realize we have left?

The ocean rocks the boat. Blue extends out as far as the eye can see. Even with my Fae eyes. The air is still humid and warm, so we drop our claimed coats beside the stairs and join the group.

Captain Beatrice, standing at the front of the crowd raises another clear bottle of liquid at our approach. "To our new friends!"

"To our new friends!" Many of the crew say with much reluctance.

I laugh nervously and stay close to Lincoln's side. He examines the frothy waves around us with amused contentment and gives me a sideways grin as Johanna begins strumming the strings. The rapid chords flow from her twirling fingers to create an upbeat song.

Pirates stomp their boots, matching the rhythm of the tune. A few clap along and bob their heads. Johanna opens her lips and begins singing, her voice a deep baritone that a few other women immediately harmonize with.

My hand rises to my lips where I cover my smile and look between Lincoln and the group. "They sound lovely."

"That they do," he agrees, but his eyes never leave me.

"Have a drink!" Beatrice pours the bottle out into an entire tray of small shot glasses and walks around passing them out. "Today we cheers to our return to the sea! Our home!" She puts a glass in my hand, though I try and refuse, and then passes one to Lincoln as well.

"It's the middle of the day." I grimace and sniff the drink, knowing very well what I'm about to get myself into if I drink it.

"Who says you can't have a sloshing good party at eleven in the morning, dear?" Beatrice winks and hands me another glass for my empty hand. "Here, have another!"

"Human society?" Lincoln offers the answer to her question.

"I suppose day-drinking technically is a thing that humans do too..."

Before the captain can get too far, Lincoln steals a second drink for himself. He examines the liquid with scrutiny before he shoots one of the shots back. He blinks.

"Damn, that's good!"

"Wait! What about me?" I lift the liquid up to my lips and dump it down my throat, trying to swallow before I can really taste it. "Now this one together!" I say through puckered lips.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" I yell over the hoots and hollers of the women and the melody of the guitar.

"Cheers." Lincoln holds his glass between us and I raise mine to his.

"To getting out of this fucking court, so I can take back what’s mine!"

Lincoln cheers. Once I take my drink and look back at him, his is empty as well. Like the gentleman he is, he takes the glasses from me and carries them over to the tray on the ground next to Johanna. All the stomping boots make them clink together, rattling in time with the music.

Women with their first round of shots running through their bloodstreams bounce and dance across the upper deck. Even those at work sway with healthy grins. Lincoln's boots come to a stop next to me and he claps along with the music, giving Johanna healthy praise as her fingers move quickly with skill along the strings.

I can't help but clap along too. Maybe it's the alcohol. Maybe it's the music. Or maybe it's just being in Lincoln's presence that makes this moment feel right. It's totally the alcohol that makes me want to let go of the pressure we are sure to face the moment we get home.

A pirate, the one who we'd seen in the crow’s nest just the other night, pulls her dark brown hair on top of her head and tucks it into a seamless bun. With her hair out of her face, she grins and sets her gaze upon me. Every step she takes toward us is a dance move. She lifts her knee high up, bouncing her hands off it between claps.

The group has turned into a whirlwind of hooked arms and twirling bodies that pick up the extra fabric of their billowing shirts. Chains and metal that hang from their clothes bounce against them and the weapons that remain strapped to their hips. Armed to the teeth at all times, no matter how drunk they may be, or might get.

She continues to move toward me. I glance between her and