He’s a strong warrior, but he is young, and unable to contain himself yet. It has already hurt him. If he doesn’t get it under control soon, it might damage him irreversibly.
Worse yet, it might damage the princess. And I will simply not allow that to happen.
The Wrath is a large ship for a small crew, but it is cloaked and lost in quite a bit of foliage, and so when we step outside, I can see how it might be difficult for someone who isn’t a Mlok hunter to locate the ship again.
The Boreans might be able to break people’s minds, but as long as we stay by the ship, the worst dangers we face are simply creatures.
“Are you sure you want me with you?” Taln says.
“Yes,” I reply.
He’s still limping. I can tell that he’s in an exceptional amount of pain, but I don’t want the poisoned Skoll or the one tending to him. I’m unhurt and I have faith in my ability to challenge even the most difficult of creatures. But the Skoll is wise and perceptive in a way I am not—I might be able to get us ready for battle, but I trust that Taln understands this crew far more than I ever have.
And it’s a good opportunity for him to get away from the ship. We should be relatively safe here. I might be an outsider, but from my observations, I can tell that he’s going to be instrumental in convincing Kye. And our plan should still be to convince him to consume Elixir.There are few things I’m afraid of. One of them is Lamia. Even thinking of her control is torturous.
We’re only a few steps away from the Wrath, and the vegetation is getting more lush. I enjoy this weather. It’s comfortable for me, the balminess of Scylla’s summer shining on my scales. But it also makes me more tired than other kind of weather, lulling me into a false sense of security that none of us can afford right now.
“How long do you suppose we’ll be here?” I ask Taln.
He shakes his head, the sound of his cane steady on the abundant green path we’re making for ourselves. “Not long,” he says. “Maybe a night as we wait for any pursuing vessels to lose track of us. Then we need to hurry back to Triton to warn Cressida of Calypso’s treachery.”
“Perhaps we can take advantage of having an evening to ourselves,” I murmur, certain he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“If you intend to suggest the Elixir ceremony again, then you must speak to the princess,” he says. He doesn’t sound annoyed. There are many things to take care of, and this one is simply at the top of the list.
“I have no problem speaking to her. However, I expect she’s not the problem,” I reply. “Perhaps you should speak to Kye.”
Taln laughs. “You remember how that went the first time,” he replies. “Perhaps all humans are headstrong.”
“But they’re so fragile,” I say. It’s the kind of comment I would normally keep to myself, but I trust Taln to understand. I’m not interested in harming anyone. My chief concern is keeping Fiona alive.
If we’re on Scylla for long, that might prove to be a problem. I don’t know what the provisions are like on the ship, but there are many concerns. The majority of us can adapt to our environments better than humans, but they need specific temperature controls, they need particular food items…I don’t know much about humans, only that they require specific conditions to survive.
The one thing I’m certain of is that they have a hard time with things other species simply don’t register as issues. That makes Fiona even more of an impressive warrior in my eyes; it must be difficult to attempt to overcome all the physical limitations that come with such a soft, pliable species and be as brave and committed as she is.
“I know,” Taln replies, the smile still obvious in his voice. Something creaks under him as he takes a step forward. “You think they’d know better.”
I intend to answer him when I hear something nearby. It’s quiet, except for a low, steady clicking.
My head immediately tilts up as I pick up where the sound is coming from. The clicking isn’t random. The creature near us has several feet, at least a dozen, and it towers above us, so thin and tall between the reeds of the canopy that it’s almost impossible to tell that this is a living thing rather than foliage.
It bends like several twigs over the tree line, geometric lines so fine and angular that it’s hard for me to discern it against the bright blue sky.
Something about this beast being here, unmoving and waiting, chills me. It isn’t afraid of us. We aren’t a threat to it—which means that there’s a good chance it’s a threat tous.
“Donotmove,” I say.
Taln follows my gaze, his eyes widening, his red skin shining in the hot midday sun. “What is that?” he asks.
“I’m not sure,” I say. “But I’m beginning to think choosingthisplanet for a crash landing was a mistake.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
KYE
My head swims as I make my way to my bedroom.
I’m still not used to how luxurious my quarters are compared to my room on the Naiad. Comparatively, I feel like royalty here. It’s nicer than the nicest hotel I could ever afford on Earth.