“We need to go back to Widow’s Bend.”
“But we have made it this far. We must get to the mountains, for Romeria’s sake. Besides, the likelihood of your soldiers surviving this night—”
Her words cut off at the metallic ring of a dagger sliding from its sheath.
“You will take us back to the first inlet past Widow’s Bend so I may reunite with my legion,” Zander says crisply, an edge creeping into his voice.
Zander and Gesine lock hard gazes, and there can be no mistaking this stare down for anything other than what it is: an assessment of an opponent. The glow in Gesine’s eyes has dulled, but it lingers. She still has a hold of her caster affinities. Is she considering harnessing the wind again to toss him into the sea before he can use his dagger on her?
Zander's elven affinity to Malachi's fire is useless out here, surrounded by nothing but water and no flame to draw from. Gesine knows this.
The air crackles with tension.
“Need I remind you, High Priestess, that fire is not my most formidable weapon? Neither is this blade in my hand.” He smiles.
Gesine’s eyes flare with understanding as she takes in the two needlelike fangs that somehow gleam in the darkness.
My heart skips a few beats. I’ve only ever seen them on display once, the night I discovered what Zander is. He was making a point then, just as he’s making one now—or rather, a threat.
Would Gesine have a chance to defend herself before he sank those teeth into her neck? She would be a fool to test him. But is this the moment, out here in the vast ocean, that we see the true nature of the sorceress hidden behind the serene facade?
She dips her head. “As you wish, Your Highness. Though I may need your guidance, as you are far more familiar with your lands.”
“You seem to have navigated your way well enough so far.” His fangs have already retracted. “Now do it before we sink.”
I hold my breath in fearful anticipation, but rather than the previous gale force winds launching us forward, a small wave rolls beneath and carries us on its crest at a gentle clip, high enough to keep more water from leaking in. At this rate, it will take hours to make it back to shore, but at least we will make it.
I tremble within my drenched cloak as we glide through the darkness in brooding silence, moving farther away from old dangers.
And surely closer to new ones I can’t fathom yet.