The Savage Blue - By Zoraida Cordova Page 0,29

my hand out. “If that’s what he wants, he’ll have a whole lot more of these guys waiting for us.”

Kurt picks up the foreign arrow and examines it. “Cedarwood.

Gold leaf. Golden spearhead. Ouch. It’s very sharp.”

“You didn’t shoot?” I look to Thalia.

“I couldn’t reach my bow in time.” She holds up her daggers in her hands.

“Then where the hell did it come from?”

The unanswered question settles over us. We reform our circle, careful of the shifting shadows along our ship. There’s the rustle of water, the flapping of loose sails, the creaking of the old wood swelling against the sea, and the extra loud thumping of Layla’s purely human heart.

“We know you’re there,” I warn.

“Easy now,” he says, stepping forward.

His hands are raised, holding up his bow. Even in the dark, I recognize him instantly. Brendan, champion of the West. Starlight gives a coppery sheen to his bright red hair. His clothes look like he had a fight with a big pair of scissors.

Though the only time I met him was for a brief hello at Toliss Island during the presentation of the champions, Brendan runs down the steps and pulls me into a strangling man-hug. “It’s good to see you too, Cousin Tristan.”

Brendan and I huddle around Arion on the quarterdeck.

We insist on dressing the cut on his shoulder with the muddy gunk Blue used on my knuckles. It stings like hell, but Arion doesn’t twitch.

“How’s that?” I say, slathering it on with a patch of seaweed.

“Don’t worry about me, Master Tristan,” Arion says. “I’ve been through worse.”

“That’s not the point.” I wipe my hands on a dirty rag. “You should have been able to defend yourself properly.”

“A hundred years ago,” Arion says, tugging slightly on the ropes at his hands, “I would’ve gutted that Archer like the beast he is.”

I spit out a nasty chunk of meat stuck in my teeth.

“I don’t want to think about what you might have swallowed during that battle,” Brendan says. “If I told my father of this, he wouldn’t believe me.”

From a leather pouch slung on his belt, Brendan pulls out a long, hand-rolled cigarette. When he lights it, I recognize the smell as lily flower. Even when his father was presenting him in front of the court, hands in the air, Brendan didn’t strike me as the serious type. Not like Elias. Not like Adaro.

“How bad is the damage to the ship?” I ask.

Arion points to the sails. “The main sail’s been cut and some of the ropes burned. Nothing the urchins and I can’t fix.”

“There’s also this,” I say, digging through the bag of loot we managed to salvage. “The girls won this at the tavern. From the look on your face, I can tell you know what this is.”

Arion takes the barrel in his calloused hands. He beats his knuckle on the wood. “Aye.”

“Great,” I say. “What is it?”

Brendan laughs. “It’s potted wind, cousin. Young demigods make a trade of their gifts. Sell a bit of rain to a city with drought. That sort of thing.”

“With this,” Arion says, “we could return to Coney Island waters by morning. It will suck the air right out of the skies, leaving other ships stranded.”

Arion excuses himself to adjust the sails, taking the barrel with him.

“Wish I’d gotten here sooner,” Brendan says between puffs. “My crew was too far away when I saw the commotion. Arion here noticed me and pulled me up just in time.”

“And you came alone?”

Brendan pats himself on his chest like No big deal. “Don’t be fooled. I’m a lot more ruthless than I’d like to admit. Besides, your mermaids here have bigger cockleshells than half the boys of my court. You wouldn’t believe the guppies I ended up with.”

I think of the last two days. The snide comments, the sword fighting, the death threats. And still, I wouldn’t trade them for a ship full of heavily armed mermen. “Yeah, my crew’s all right.”

Brendan hoists himself on the ledge with one leg up. With his cigarette hand, he points down to where my friends are gathered on the clean deck around a toasty fire. I’ve never had a cousin before. It makes me feel cool. This is my cousin Brendan with the killer bow and arrows. He smokes lily flower. Awesome hair runs in the family.

“Is that the girl that swam against Elias?” he holds onto his stomach, laughing. “You must truly have Grandfather’s charm to get those two following you. Layla, was that her name? Exquisite. Those

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