the wind. “She found the stone, and I had to tell her. I couldn’t lie to her anymore.”
“Why were you even in my cabin to begin with?” I rip my eyes toward him, and though his cheeks flush red and flustered, he doesn’t answer. “You should have let me be the one to tell her.” I can’t stop the way his words swim in my head.
I couldn’t lie to her. I couldn’t lie …
I hear the judgment in his tone. The disappointment. The warning of the godwoken, telling me that all must die.
The gray skies tunnel around me, their shadows reaching and consuming. I fall deeper and deeper into that tunnel, to where Father waits for me as I shut my eyes, not on his steed with his smile burning bright, but with his face trying to emerge from behind a swath of shadows. His hand is outstretched, waiting for me again.
Be brave, he’d told me. But what did that mean? No matter which choice I make, I would be losing someone I love. No matter what I do, I will lose Visidia by using the power of the godwoken.
“We’re not letting you disappear on us, again.” I barely hear Bastian’s voice through the fog of my brain and my muddled thoughts. It isn’t until he presses a hand to my shoulder and I feel him there, presence warming my body, that the fog dissipates and I’m able to focus on his words. “Come back to us, Amora.”
One of them drapes a coat over my shoulders, easing me down to the deck where we lean against the mast. Being here with nothing but the sea stretched endlessly before me and the briny air on my tongue is steadying. It grounds me enough that my fingers stop searching for the satchel they won’t find, and I lean back. I tip my head to the sky, and for a while the three of us sit like that. It isn’t until Ferrick brushes my boot with his that I stir to attention.
“I admit that I prefer the land,” he says, surprising me with the softness of his tone, “but there’s something about being out on the sea that can’t be replicated. It feels like we’re alone in the world; like it’s all ours. The sea, the stars, all of it. It feels like it’s ours to grab. I’ve always understood why you love this life so much.”
“You love it, too,” Bastian mumbles, keeping his eyes to the sky. “Don’t pretend.”
“I’ve gotten used to it. But it’s not the same for me. You two love the adventure of it. The being able to go wherever you want, and seeing whatever you’d like. I prefer the land. The stability—always knowing where everything is, and the routine of it all. But what I’ve loved is the time I’ve spent with you all. I didn’t have a crew like this back on Arida; I barely had friends, other than Casem. Spending these past two seasons with you all has … Well, it’s taught me a lot about myself. I feel like a different person from who I was before, and I can’t imagine never having been able to have that.”
They’re words that tear into me, melting my heart and ripping it apart with guilt. In our time on Keel Haul, Ferrick truly has grown into himself.
“I’m sorry for what I asked of you,” I whisper. “I’m sorry that she’s gone.”
“So am I.” He tips his head back to the sky, emptying his lungs. “But I have a feeling it’s not for good. Vataea processes emotions differently than we do, I think. She has every right to be mad, but I hope she’ll give us another chance.”
Carefully, I ease closer to Ferrick and rest my head on his shoulder. He bends too, so that his cheek sets against the top of my head.
“You know I will always love you.” He kisses the top of my hair, and my heart softens. “I will always be here for you, because you’re my best friend. But this decision you’re about to make affects so much more than just you. Talk to us.”
“The kingdom is crumbling.” My voice wavers. “It’s changing too quickly for everyone to keep up, and there’s nothing I can do to help it. People want me dead. How am I supposed to lead a kingdom that tries to poison me? Who wants me dead and gone? If I had my father here … he could help. The kingdom