A Dance of Dragons: Series Starter Bundle (29 page)

The more Rhen spoke, the lower the captain's
shoulders fell. His pupils clouded over, filled with worry, and he
looked down quickly at the papers below him before returning to
Rhen.

"Da'astiku is being locked down by the
king," Rhen continued, pressing on despite the slight twinge of
guilt, "but I cannot be found. You must hide both of us and provide
safe travel back to my home. Trust you will be handsomely rewarded
for all of the trouble this will cause."

The captain looked down at the papers on his
desk, blinked once, and pushed them aside until only one remained.
Rhen recognized the hills, the outline of the White Stone Sea, the
circle allotting his home city.

"It would be an honor to help a Son of
Whyl," the man said. His deep voice hinted at no ill will, just
pure loyalty—a true subject. Looking past Rhen, he asked, "Have
they raised the black flag?"

"Ay," the sailor who had led Rhen below
decks said, nodding. Jin remained quiet, surveying the
conversation.

Captain Jelaric sighed and ran a hand
through imaginary hair.

"The black flag?" Rhen asked. Definitely
didn’t sound very good.

"When the Ourthuri raise the black flag, it
means their harbor is on lock down—no ships in and no ships out.
Normally, they believe the king has been cheated and run
inspections to make sure no goods came into the city unannounced—no
black market deals. But now, it likely means they are looking for…"
He motioned forward, shrugged, "well, you, my Lord."

"What will they do?" Rhen asked, brows
furrowed. He refused to escape one trap just to be led into
another.

"My guess, Prince Whylrhen, is that they
will be here any minute. If, as you say, we are the only Whylkin
ship, they will want to come below decks, make sure you are not on
board and then usher us out as quickly as possible." The captain
grabbed his hat from the wall, squeezing it snuggly onto his head.
He wore a red sash around his waist.

Unexpectedly, the captain's entire body
stopped, stuck with indecision mirrored in his halted breath. There
were options being weighed in his head, different paths with
different possible outcomes, until finally he looked at Rhen with
an open, honest plea.

He leaned forward, knuckles resting on the
wood of his desk, and whispered, "Luckily, this is not just a
trading ship."

Rhen squinted, looking harder at the red
ruby dangling from his ear, the lack of jewels, the multiple maps
highlighting very unusual routes across the open ocean.

He grinned.

"You're a smuggler," he said.

A twinkle lit the captain's eye—he had made
the right choice in trusting his prince, a prince infamous for his
own wayward ways.

"I assure you, my Prince, that I follow the
laws of our lands very precisely. But there are times…" His lips
twitched. "Times like the current, when certain circumstances
require a somewhat open interpretation of the rules."

"I couldn't agree more," Rhen said, his
voice full of mirth.

"Then follow me, Son of Whyl, and I will
return you to our great King Whylfrick as fast as the
Skipping
Stone
is able."

13

Jinji

~ Da'astiku ~

Jinji blinked.

But when her eyes opened, it was all the
same.

Darkness. Complete and total darkness.

When the captain said he could hide them,
she had had her doubts. But when he moved his desk a few inches to
the side, revealing a trap door to a secret compartment, she
relaxed.

Now, shrouded in black with nothing but the
echo of her breath against Rhen's, Jinji's hands were starting to
clam. Her heart was starting to race. And her breath was starting
to quicken.

Closing her eyes did nothing to halt the
fear, because even then all she saw was shadow. Unlike in dreams,
where opening her eyes was all it took, here there was no
escape.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood,
feeling the imaginary creep of invisible hands. The shadow was
here. The nightmare. She could feel it around her, ensnaring her
just at her moment of escape.

And the only image that kept flashing in her
mind was of Maniuk. Of his eyes—his clouded over, white eyes the
moment before he took his own life.

A shiver jetted down her back. Jinji bit her
lip to keep from yelping.

No
, she thought,
there is
nothing
. But try as she might to reason, to use logic, the
darkness had invaded more than just her vision. It was haunting
her, taunting her.

"Jin?" Rhen's voice floated into her ear, a
cool breeze. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. Then remembered he could not
see.

"Yes." She forced the word out as quietly as
possible, hoping the slight crack would not give her away.

"Jin, can I ask…" Pause. She waited. "Can I
ask what happened?"

"We are supposed to be quiet," she whispered
back, but hoped he would not listen. The words were helping ease
her mind, were helping distract her from the darkness.

"I know," he said. A hint of pain laced into
the tone, just enough to make him sound like a child, to sound
vulnerable. "I just…" He sighed. "Did Captain Pygott suffer? Can
you tell me that much?"

Jinji winced. That was not the question she
expected, but her mind flashed to the soft blue eyes that had
wished her farewell, the strong arms that had pushed her to
freedom. "No," she said, a pang of loss tightened her heart. "No,
it was over quickly. He raced down to your cabin to wake me and
helped me escape just as the Ourthuri were breaking down the door.
I believe they acted very swiftly, as they did with everyone
else."

A deep, shaky breath was her only response.
In and out. In and out. Then a sniffle. Another breath. A deep
swallow—the gulp was loud enough to hear.

Jinji sat still, experiencing Rhen's pain
with him, wishing she could help. But she knew better than most
that there was very little anyone could do to mend a broken
heart.

Her fingers twitched, itching to reach
across the small enclosure and wrap around his, but she remained
still. Hand-holding was the comfort of a woman, of a—of something
she wasn't.

Men preferred their pain in solace and in
silence. At least that was her experience. Her father had always
grieved at night, when he thought the rest of the world was fast
asleep and safely in the realm of their dreams, a place where they
would not hear his cries.

But Jinji heard.

She always heard. Her heart ached alongside
his, burning with the memory of her brother Janu, but she never
reacted. Never stood from her sleeping pad to provide comfort.
Because her father, like Rhen, needed to feel strong.
Untouchable.

Even still, her arm moved over an inch.

Another inch.

Heat radiated from Rhen's skin, warming
Jinji as her hand shifted closer.

Stop
, she commanded, but her wayward
fingers disobeyed, pressing even closer, until she was sure their
hairs were touching, tickling.

A creak sounded from above.

The thud of footsteps.

Jinji balled her fingers into a fist,
hugging her arms close to her chest. Her ears were alert, listening
for any and all sound.

Boots pounded closer. Multiple sets.

Muffled voices dropped through the
floorboards.

The Ourthuri were right above them, pacing,
searching, shouting in anger.

Yet, somehow, Jinji felt calm. Deep in her
heart, she knew the spirits would not have brought her so far just
to fail her now—she had to trust in them. And in Rhen, in his
decision. The two were all she had left.

Gradually, the sounds grew softer.

They faded away.

Until silence and darkness circled Jinji and
Rhen once more.

This time, Rhen did not break the quiet. So
Jinji sat, imagining daylight, using all of her strength to keep
her hands still—to keep them from weaving the illusion of light
just so she could escape the shadows.

After a while, the ground below her shifted.
The gentle sway of water roughened. The bounces became choppy. They
flew higher, landed harder.

It could only mean one thing—they had set
sail.

They were free.

A grin took over Jinji's face.

Boots sounded above them, but no fear
flooded her system. The desk scraped against the wood above her
head, roaring in her ear. And the trap door opened, gloriously
invading Jinji's vision with the sun.

Rhen climbed out first while Jinji continued
taking deep breaths of the fresh air coming in through the open
window.

A hand reached down, gripping hers, and
Jinji was airborne as the shadows fell away behind her.

"We passed the inspection, Prince Whylrhen,"
Captain Jelaric said, his voice light with amusement.

Rhen smirked. "I had no doubt. What other
nooks do you have tucked away on this ship?"

The captain winked, bowing deeply. "I'm
afraid that is a secret that cannot be shared."

"Even with your prince?"

"Especially with my prince, my Lord."

Rhen nodded in understanding. "Have no fear,
the king will not hear of your extra pursuits because of me, not
after this."

"Many thanks, Prince Whylrhen. I suggest you
stay below decks until Da'astiku fades from sight. My chambers will
be yours for the rest of the journey until we reach Rayfort. Do
make yourself comfortable."

"Will you have food brought? My stomach
grows hungrier by the second," Rhen said, his belly rumbling in
agreement.

"Right away, my Lord." The captain bowed and
backed away, not turning until he reached the door. It closed
quickly with a resounding bang.

Immediately, Rhen sighed heavily and ran a
hand through his curling hair. He turned to Jinji, eyebrows
slightly raised. "This is going to be a long trip."

"It must be shorter than our last one?"
Jinji questioned, picturing the maps Rhen had drawn for her in the
dirt.

"I'm not talking about that, Jin. Traveling
through the Straits, we'll reach Rayfort in little over a week. But
it will be excruciating."

"Why?" She asked, honestly curious.

He looked at her, smiling a half smile,
shaking his head slightly.

"You're so entertaining because you don't
even know, the politics never even cross your mind. Did you hear
the 'my Lords' dripping from their tongues? It's exhausting. And
Captain Jelaric, he knows. I heard it in his voice. Make myself
comfortable? He meant stay out of sight or his men will trip over
themselves to bow every time I step on deck."

"I guess I do not do that," Jinji
mumbled.

Rhen's grin widened. "No, quite the opposite
in fact. The first time you met me, I thought you might kill me.
The idea of you bowing has never entered my mind."

"But these are things I should learn, now
that…"

She trailed off. Now that, what? Now that
her family was gone? Her people? Her way of life?

Now that she was going to meet the king?

Jinji bit her lip, sinking into the
captain's vacated chair.

What would she do when they reached the
King's City? The spirits were guiding her, but to what and where?
Despite her earlier fears, the shadow was not here. It had
disappeared. And the last she had heard of it was from the two
sailors in Whylkin, whispering about mysterious deaths. She was no
closer to answers.

Rhen stepped into view. His black boots were
covered in grime—scraped and roughed.

Jinji's eyes traveled up his legs, up his
broad chest, right into his concerned gaze.

I could tell him.

It wasn't the first time the thought had
crossed her mind.

She could tell him about the nightmare,
about the shadow, about the massacre. She could tell him all of
that without telling him she was a woman. And maybe, just maybe, he
would be able to help.

But would he believe her? Fire spirits might
cling to his figure, but that didn't mean he knew they were there.
It didn’t mean he would believe in magic, would believe in
something as preposterous as spiritual possession.

Yet, in Da'astiku, the princess had believed
Jinji enough to abandon reason and help her rescue a stranger. Her
figure had been draped in blue strands of elemental water, and she
had seemed well acquainted with the idea of magic, completely
unafraid of Jinji's illusions. That had to mean something.

Even if Rhen had given no hint of—

A knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," Rhen said.

The door swung open to the top of a man's
head.

"My Lord," he said, speaking to the ground.
"I brought food." The tray was nearly to the floor he was bent so
low.

"Just put it down here, please." Rhen
pointed to the desk. The man scurried forward, keeping his eyes
downcast.