The Unkindest Tide (October Daye #13) - Seanan McGuire Page 0,93

get to harmless without becoming a parody of yourself.” Cupping my hands around my mouth, I called up, “We need something to help us get out of the water! I don’t think I can focus enough to go back to having legs while I’m still wet!”

“We will help,” said Helmi gravely, and proceeded to begin climbing the side of the ship, her tentacles pulling her easily along while her upper body remained as graceful and seemingly motionless as a noblewoman making her grand entrance during a summer ball. The male Cephali followed her, and the two of them ascended with apparent effortlessness. Kirsi remained behind, hanging protectively in the water next to Peter.

“I wish I could do that,” said Peter. “Cephali get to have all the fun.”

“Can’t argue, kid, although I, personally, will be happier when I have knees again,” I said.

Quentin didn’t say anything. He’d shifted in the water, until he was so close to me that our shoulders were almost touching. I glanced at him, frowning at the hint of dark confusion in his eyes. Something was really bothering him.

Well, there’d be time to figure out what it was later, when asking didn’t mean involving his boyfriend’s little brother in whatever he was feeling. Quentin would tell me if he felt like whatever he was dealing with would interfere with him performing his duties as my squire. As long as he didn’t say anything along those lines, I could give him space until we could sit down and talk about it privately.

Helmi reached the top and vanished over the rail, followed a moment later by the man—I was really going to need to learn his name before too much longer. Poppy stepped back, out of sight. Peter made a small, unhappy noise. I flashed him a quick smile.

“It’s okay, bud,” I said. “Your dad’s going to be thrilled when he sees you’re safe. He wanted to come with us, but we convinced him not to.”

“Why?” he asked, a whine in his voice that betrayed his still-heightened anxiety. I couldn’t blame him. Being held hostage twice before you turn sixteen has got to be hell on the nerves.

I shrugged. “I’m scared of your mom,” I said.

Peter cracked a smile.

“What? It’s true! I like her a lot, she’s great and everything, but she’s also terrifying, and I’m not doing anything that might upset her. Taking your father on the kind of adventure that might get him killed would definitely upset her.”

“You took him,” said Peter, pointing at Quentin.

This seemed like a strange place for this conversation, but whatever; it wasn’t like we could go anywhere before Poppy and the others tossed us a rope. “Quentin is my squire,” I said. “That means it’s my job to take him places that might kill him, at least until he’s learned everything I have to teach and can go off to be a hero in his own right.”

“Not a hero,” said Quentin hastily. “I never want to be a hero.”

“I didn’t exactly sign up for this,” I said.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

Peter, on the other hand, looked almost excited. “So Quentin won’t be your squire forever?” he asked. “You’re going to need a new squire one day?”

A horrifying possible future unfolded in front of me like the petals of a large, potentially carnivorous flower: one where, as soon as I was no longer responsible for the care and well-being of the next High King of the Westlands, I had to start taking care of the younger son of the Duchess of Saltmist.

“No,” I said firmly. “Quentin was a special case, and I only agreed to take him on because my liege was the one who asked. Once he graduates, I’m done with squires. I’m bad for their health.”

“Oh,” said Peter. Any potential protest he might have made was cut off a beat later, when a rope ladder dropped from the side of the ship and splashed down right in front of us.

“Come on up if you’re coming!” shouted Poppy, leaning over the side and waving enthusiastically. “You’ve missed buckets and buckets of nonsense!”

Of that I had absolutely no doubt. “You go first,” I said, to Peter. “Kirsi, go up with him, make sure he doesn’t lose his grip or something.”

“Of course,” she said. The Cephali guided Peter to the ladder, wrapping the tip of one tentacle delicately around his wrist and guiding it to the lowest rung. He gave her an amused look and began pulling himself up, at first