A BRINY TANG SALTED THE AIR LONG before I crested a ridge that overlooked the bustling port city of Tevros. A vast bay sparkled in the midday sun. Docks poked out from the wharf surrounded by a profusion of vessels, from humble fishing boats to fat merchant ships, all with blinding white sails.

I pushed a hand against my galloping heart. For a minute, the fog that had clouded my mind since leaving Arcus lifted. I’d once asked if he would show me the sea someday, a longing I’d had since childhood, when the farthest I’d traveled was to the next village. Arcus had agreed, but now I was seeing it without him. What would he have pointed out to me, if he were here? What might he see that I would miss?

Even with the rocky headlands jutting out on both sides, the sheer mass of water amazed me. Staring at it gave me a feeling of insignificance. Once aboard the ship, I would be nothing more than a grain of sand on a piece of driftwood, tossed about by that infinity of churning and thrashing.

I sighed and continued down a winding footpath. I tried, for the hundredth time, to rub the ache in my chest with the heel of my hand. It felt like a thorn was rooted there, a little to the left of my breastbone, somewhere soft and tender where it would fester. Each word Arcus had said to me in that final conversation kept echoing in my head, the feeling of our kiss imprinted on my lips and in my blood. He said there’d always be a place for me. I told myself that, especially when I started imagining the worst—that he might cut me out of his memories, unwinding the threads of shared experiences that bound us, and freezing out the parts of his heart he’d told me, in that tender moment at the ball, that I’d melted.

I took a shuddering breath and dropped my hand. Hearts didn’t explode, no matter how much it might feel like it. The pain would ease, eventually. And I couldn’t second-guess my decision to leave. It served no purpose.

It was a relief to finally be alone. Brother Thistle had accompanied me, using the ride to discuss details of my mission, right up to the crossroads a mile back, my fork taking me to Tevros, his to Forwind Abbey.

As I’d shifted some of my supplies to his horse, he’d dismounted and surprised me with a quick hug.

“Be careful.” He’d put his hands on my shoulders and peered at me intently. “Do not take any foolish risks.”

“You take the fun out of everything.”

“You will be circumspect in all things. Cautious and calm. You won’t lose your temper.”

I glanced around. “Who are you speaking to? That certainly doesn’t sound like me.”

His thick brows moved together like storm clouds gathering above the pale skies of his irises. “I wish I could go with you.”

“Well, since you can’t, make sure you check in on Arcus, would you? I hate that he’s alone with the Blue Legion still lurking around.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t leave him for long. Just until his temper cools. And he has several allies he can trust. I made sure they would watch over him. Focus on your task. And keep safe.”

I patted the back of his hand. “You too.”

I’d sent my gelding with him, eager to be out of the saddle after three days’ ride. We’d had a dozen guards nipping at our heels the whole journey, on Arcus’s orders, but I’d managed to convince them to return to the capital this morning. The previous night, we’d gone to an inn and I’d paid for round after round of ale with the heavy bag of coins the royal purser had given me for the trip. The guards had slumped over their pommels as we rode from the inn to the crossroads, their bleary, bloodshot eyes scanning halfheartedly for trouble. Brother Thistle assured them they could leave me to my own devices.

We both knew a contingent of the king’s guard would probably ruffle Kai’s feathers. Better I go alone.

Tevros was nothing much to look at. If the gleaming harbor was its face, then the city was its backside, with a tightly packed center hemmed in by cramped and ugly houses perched like squashed hats on scrubby, sloping land. Soon, I was off the hilly footpath and weaving through the busy streets.

I didn’t have much experience with cities. It was all so much to take in: noisily rattling carts and painted wagons, baritone-voiced sailors and well-dressed merchants, exhausted-looking parents herding inquisitive children, vegetable stands and storefronts and peddlers. And the smells of fish and sweat and flowers and piss and the sea.

As I passed a shadowed alley, there was a flash of movement, a brush against my leg, and I suddenly felt lighter on one side. It took a second to realize my money purse was gone.

Furious at how easily I’d been robbed, I followed the sound of running feet. When I turned the corner into another alley, I came up short.

There stood the familiar lean form of a ginger-gold-haired, olive-skinned, crookedly smiling man. He was holding a small urchin who thrashed and kicked, a money purse clutched in one small, dirty hand.

“Ah, now what have I caught?” Kai mused calmly. “A tiny fish. But you’re too small for the dinner table.”

“Let me go!” The voice was high and I realized the pickpocket was a girl, her eyes wide. “Or I’ll… I’ll tell the constable you’re trying to kidnap me.”

Kai chuckled. “You wish to clean out our purses, but we’re not ready to part with all those shiny coins just yet.”

“Just bumped into her by accident,” the pickpocket said. “I didn’t mean to—”

Kai tsked. “Don’t debase yourself with lies, little fish. You’re skilled at your vocation, and I appreciate skill. Why don’t we test the dexterity of those clever fins? If you catch this coin as it falls, it’s yours. If I catch it, we’ll find that constable and see if he throws you back into the sea.”

Kai took the purse, drew out a coin, and tossed it into the air. It arced high and descended. The girl’s hand shot out and snatched it. She grinned, her face flushed with triumph.

Seeing her smile, a bolt of recognition shot through me: a sick little girl on a winter’s night when I’d run away from the abbey and ended up at the camp of some refugees who had fled the Frost King’s soldiers. The families had been on their way to Tevros to see if they could board a ship and make a new life somewhere else. But the girl had been ill with a fever and a cough. I’d tried to help by finding the right herbs to heal her before the adults had chased me off. I’d often wondered about her, hoping she’d recovered.

I took in the urchin’s flushed cheeks and the thick hair escaping from her cap. Her eyes shone with health, no longer bleary with fever, but her face was leaner, her features sharper.

“Kaitryn,” I said, remembering her name.

Her eyes widened further. She turned swiftly, but Kai’s hand shot out to grab her elbow before she could bolt. “I believe the lady knows you, little fish,” he said calmly.

“Kaitryn, it’s me, Ruby.” I stepped forward and smiled reassuringly. “I met you when you had a fever. You probably don’t remember.”

“I remember.” She stared at me for a few seconds. “They said you were a Fireblood and you’d get us all killed.”

My lips twisted. “Well, I hope that last part wasn’t true.” I continued to smile, wishing she didn’t look so scared. Or was that resentment in her gaze? “I’m so glad you recovered and made it to Tevros.”

“Tevros is a hole,” she said bluntly. “There’s hardly any work here, and no ships will take us anywhere without the coin. My parents spent all their money on herbs to cure my lungs. Then my father got sick. Least, that’s what my mother calls it, but he changed into someone else overnight. Went wild for no reason. One day, he killed someone in a fight. Went to prison and died a week later.”

I felt the blood leave my face. “Kaitryn, I’m so sorry.” There was no doubt that her father had been possessed by the Minax. Which meant that in freeing it, I had ruined her family.

She shrugged off my sympathy, but the pain in her eyes was unmistakable.

I turned to Kai. “Give the purse back to her.” He looked at me quizzically for a moment, then shrugged and offered it up.

Kaitryn’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

“You need it more than I do,” I said.

Her hand flashed out, and the purse disappeared quickly into some hidden pocket in her patched and baggy vest.

“This will keep us fed for weeks,” she said, eyes bright. “Months.”

“Listen, Kaitryn,” I said impulsively, “I’m about to go on a voyage and I’m thinking life aboard a ship would be better than life on the streets. Why don’t you come with me?”

She looked up at me, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, but then a chorus of young voices came from the street and her eyes widened again. “One of the gangs. They don’t like me poaching here. Time to go.”

“Kaitryn, wait, I’d like to help you if—”

But she was as slippery as the nickname Kai had given her, a little fish that slid from his grasp and disappeared into the crowd. I rushed into the street, but she was gone.

“A friend of yours?” Kai asked as he followed me. I scanned the forest of heads, but Kaitryn was nowhere to be seen.

As we walked toward the wharf, I told him the barest details of my first meeting with Kaitryn, lengthening my strides to keep up with his.

“Ah, the little fish has had a hard time of it.” I was surprised at his regretful tone, which made me like this arrogant stranger just a little bit more. “I would have offered her a place on the ship if she’d stayed.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “Why not? Either way, she’s gone. Along with your purse.” He looked at me askance. “Did no one teach you to guard your gold?”

“I’m not used to having anything to steal. Speaking of, I believe this is yours.” I slid the ring off my finger and he took it, our fingers brushing briefly. Though his skin was hot, I shivered slightly. It was still so strange to feel skin the same temperature as mine.

We turned a corner and suddenly we were on the timber-floored wharf set against a sparkling blue-green harbor.

I followed Kai through a moving maze of seafaring folk. They marched past carrying barrels or crates, sold fresh fish from rickety stalls, and played noisy games of dice. Here and there, families and sweethearts said good-bye before boarding ships. A young couple embraced, looking as if they never wanted to let each other go. I swallowed and turned away. I didn’t need to witness anyone else’s good-byes. I’d just endured one of my own.

We stopped at a scarred wooden door with a faded sign bearing what appeared to be a rotund weasel smoking a pipe.

“The Fat Badger,” Kai said with a flourish. “Where no one asks questions as long as your pockets are deep. Lucky for you, I didn’t give my money away.”

“And how did you get your hands on Tempesian money?”

His brow twitched up. “Does it really matter?”

It didn’t. He could be a thief or a charlatan, but he was still my ticket to Sudesia.

There were only a few quiet patrons in the tavern—a man and woman talking over a meal at a small round table, a few people at a long wooden bar. A pulse of cold air signaled that at least one of the patrons might be a Frostblood.

A strange feeling came over me—dizziness and a prickling on the back of my neck. “Not now,” I muttered. This was no time to be thrust into a vision. But none came. Only an unsettled feeling, as if unseen bees hummed their way around the room, waiting for a chance to sting.

A stocky barmaid wearing a dirty smock over a heavily patched dress brought two bowls of stew to our table.

“Extra pepper, just how you like it,” she said to Kai. “Do you need anything else, love? Anything at all?”

Kai grinned. “Not now, thanks, Inge.” He gave her a wink, making her cheeks redden. I wondered if she knew he was a Fireblood. And whether it would matter to her either way, considering the strength of that blush.

“Tempesian food is so bland,” Kai muttered as she left, poking at his stew with his spoon.

My mouth was too full to reply. A hot meal was welcome after the hard cheese, dried meat, and stale bread I’d eaten for the past three days.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the man at the small table staring at me. But when I lifted my head to meet his gaze, he wasn’t looking at me at all. Then from my left, I saw heads from the bar angle toward me. But when I turned toward them, they were hunched over their tankards or chatting with the barmaid.

As I looked back at Kai, I saw that he held a knife, the serrated blade pointing toward me. I reared back.

But then I blinked, and it wasn’t a knife. It was a spoon, frozen halfway to his lips. One of his brows lifted in inquiry. “Something wrong?”

The buzz in the back of my mind rose to a roar. It was joined by dark, tinny laughter that I knew, I knew, I knew.

Nonononono.

“We have to get out of here,” I said. Or I tried to, but my tongue felt thick in my mouth, the muscles too tight.

“What?” Kai asked. “What did you say?”

“True vessel,” said the resonant, bell-like voice that had once echoed from the throne. It was bigger now, stronger. But smoother, too. More controlled. More convincing as it chimed with soft words I longed to hear.

“Ah, how you hurt inside,” it crooned. “Pain. Loneliness. Grief. Tearing you apart. So unnecessary. So wrong for you. For us.”

I shook my head, breathing shakily. The Minax’s mind touched mine, stirring up all my sadness and loss and siphoning it away. Replacing it with heady relief. When I glanced at the people at the bar again, they were all looking at me.

They all hated me. They wanted to kill me. They were rising from their seats, drawing knives from sleeves or pockets or boots. Moving closer.

“Ruby,” a voice said, the accent pronounced. “Ruby! What’s wrong?”

I turned to see Kai, and two images phased in and out, first a look of concern on his face, then a look of killing fury. His hand held a knife, then it didn’t. Knife, no knife. Concern, hatred. Danger, safety.

And it was the arena all over again, the sense of life or death, the longing to live, the relief that darkness was taking over. Feelings no longer mattered. All the pain I’d felt over leaving Arcus conveniently faded away.

“They will kill you,” said the voice in my head. “They are all against you. They will plunge their knives into your flesh and rejoice in your blood spilling on the floor.”

Joyous darkness pulsed. How breathtaking, how enticing, how irresistible. Lost in its caress, I let it flow over me and envelop me like a sweetly clinging fog.

“We will destroy them. Trust only me.”

The world lost color and I was filled with stark power. I could see my opponents’ beating hearts. I fought against the impulse to cease that beating, grasping at sanity as I might grasp at the edge of a cliff to avoid plummeting to my death. But my enemies were all rushing at me now and it was live or die. Them or me.

“Ruby!” Kai yelled. “What are you—”

My hand, which no longer belonged to me, threw out fire. A man convulsed as heat filled his chest, his eyes rolling to show the whites. He fell and landed on his back, his head hitting the floor. His fingers twitched, his head turned to the side, and he was still.

Screams and chaos. A strobe of sunlight as the door opened. People rushing out. Someone’s hands on my wrists, holding my arms to my sides. A voice shouting at me in another language. And all the while the whisper in my head told me I’d done well, filled me with light-headed glee. Softened the edges of everything. And laughed.

I laughed, too. I couldn’t stop.

Harsh swearing in my ear and hands on my upper arms, shoving me toward the door. I whipped around, gathered my heat, and focused on the beating heart of my captor. The Fireblood, his center pulsing white with heat.

He grabbed my wrists and squeezed. “So you’re going to try to kill me, too?” He searched my eyes. “What’s wrong with you? What happened in there? Ruby!”

His firm but gentle grasp, or perhaps the shock of his temperature being so similar to my own, somehow brought me back to awareness. Something frayed and snapped. The darkness faded, tendrils of shadow lifting into the air, leaving me bereft and grieving and alone. I sagged toward the floor.

Arms caught me in a tight hold, hauling me back up. I shook my head, trying to clear it.

Kai. That was his name. His face was flushed, his arms hot around me, his expression horrified.

“I—I didn’t mean to…” I turned to look behind me. The bar was empty except for the barmaid and a woman wailing over the still figure of the man.

The man I’d killed.

“Sud, no. No!” I invoked the goddess of the south wind to help me. This couldn’t be happening.

But then the man on the floor moaned and coughed. The woman bent over him sobbed in relief. “Thank Fors you’re alive,” she said brokenly.

Relief overwhelmed me. But, oh Sud, what had happened? Had the man tried to kill me? Or was that all in my head?

“Call the constable!” the woman screamed. “That filthy Fireblood tried to kill my husband!”

Kai yanked me out the door into the confusion of the wharf. His hand was clamped on the back of my neck.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, pulling against his hold.

He dragged me into an alley and pushed me up against the side of a building. “Why did you try to kill that man? Tell me!”

I shook my head violently. “He had a knife!”

“He was just sitting there! Did you recognize him? Did he hurt you before?”

“No.” I was trembling all over. So cold. “It must have followed me somehow. I don’t know.”

“What? What followed you?”

“The curse. Please, please, just take me away before it comes back.” And to my horror, I found I was sobbing.

There was a long silence. And then I was being pulled along the wharf to one of the creaking docks. A short, wide-shouldered man wearing a cap helped me into a rowboat and Kai climbed in after me. They spoke in lilting Sudesian, and the burly man began to row with steady strokes.

We moved into choppy water, around the headland, and into a cove. A ship nestled there, its front covered by the figurehead of a wide-eyed young woman with flowing carved hair that streamed onto the sides of the ship. She looked as startled and as lost as I felt.

A couple of sailors threw out lines and secured the rowboat, then tossed out a rope ladder. When I reached the top, I dropped to the floor—or rather, the deck. I’d read about ships enough to know that much. I listened to Kai shouting orders, then the creak of chain as they hauled up the anchor.

The wind caught the sails and spray arced over the ship’s side, shockingly cold on my fear-heated skin. I pushed to my feet and scrambled to the railing. As we curved around the jut of land that bordered the harbor, the docks and wharf grew smaller and smaller and slipped out of sight. Eventually even the land was nothing more than a series of inky smears on parchment left by the fingers of a child.

I stood there for a long time and watched Tempesia fade from a violet-gray blur into the flat, blue horizon—leaving everything I’d ever known behind.