"Your magic caught you?" he asked, turning to study her profile. The tight clench of her jaw could have crushed rocks.
"The same way it caught you." Her eyes met his, the color so blue they were nearly white, reminding him of the gleaming edge of a blade in the sun. He wasn't yet sure if the weapon was delivering a fatal blow or defiantly raised to protect his life. "I was lucky, too. There was no ship waiting in the depths to save me. If I'd landed in the sea, I'd be dead, dragged down by the one useless wing still attached to my back. But I landed at the edge of a city and despite the darkness, another aero'kine sensed my magic and drew me in."
"Who?"
"I believe you know him as Patch, though to me he'll always have a different name." She looked over her shoulder toward the man behind the wheel, her first mate. A warmth he hadn’t seen before filled her face, not romantic but affectionate just the same.
"How did you end up here?"
She stood abruptly, the openness of her expression closing so quickly Rafe almost winced with the impact. "That's a story for another time, and maybe one day you'll earn it. My point was this. You're not the only one on this ship to have lost things. You're not the only one on this ship to want. But you are the only one wallowing in self-pity, which I'm afraid I can’t allow."
"I'm not a member of your crew," he challenged, his growing sympathy gruffly quelled. "You can't order me around."
"Should I toss you out to sea then? And we'll see how well you fare?"
He didn't know her well enough to discern if it was an empty threat or a real one, but he couldn't stop himself from fighting back. "Go ahead. No fire has killed me. No sword. No dagger. No arrow. No wound. Even a building falling on my head did little to slow me down. I'm almost curious to know if drowning will finally be my magic's undoing."
The captain paused, swallowing her words, or maybe her shock at his. An empty threat then, which was good to know.
"How about a bargain?" she asked slowly, studying him. "If I remember correctly, the ravens put their faith in a trickster god. Maybe a game of chance would do you better."
"There's nothing you have that I want."
"That may be true, but I know a lot of people."
"There's nothing they have that I want."
"No?" She arched a brow. "Not even wings?"
He jerked upright. "Who? How?"
"That's for me to know," she said slyly. "I need a ship full of people pulling their own weight, and you need something to live for. Make me a deal and maybe we can both walk away from this arrangement unscathed."
"Anything," he rasped. "I'll do anything."
"Did Brighty tell you what we're doing out here in the middle of the ocean?"
"She said I'd find out eventually."
Captain Rokaro's lips quirked. "This is no trading ship. We sail for one purpose, and one alone—to hunt dragons."
"Dragons?" Rafe turned to her sharply. "You actually go out looking for them?"
"You will too. That's my end of the bargain. You see, we've been hunting a particularly nasty beast for about a month now, and until I catch it, I can't return to port. Become a member of my crew, do as you're told, and help us find it—and I mean actual help, not standing at the bow of the ship with that brooding look of yours, distracting most of my crew. In return, when we do reach port, I'll get you an audience with the king."
"Your king? He can return my wings?"
"The king has magic unlike any you've ever seen, but he can be a bastard when he wants to be, ruthless and shrewd, and convincing him to let you return to the sky will be nearly impossible. But yes. If he wants to, he can return your wings."
"Done."
Rafe extended his hand. He knew there was something she wasn't telling him, some plot unseen. It was clear this king had ordered Cassi to remove his wings, just as he'd commanded Captain Rokaro to be waiting when he fell. Why go through all the trouble to bring Rafe to the world below just to return his wings and let him go? Then again, why go through the trouble at all? The only thing that made Rafe unique was his magic, which meant it had value to this king—what sort of value he had no clue, but he intended to find out. And when he did, he'd use it to his advantage. He'd get his wings back, no matter the cost, because Xander and Lyana were counting on him.
The captain took his hand and they shook once.
"Wait." Rafe tightened his hold on her fingers. "Why haven't you asked this king to return your missing wing?"
"Who said I haven't?" She slid her hand from his and cupped it around her lips as she turned to look over her shoulder. "Brighty!"
The girl glanced over immediately, as though she'd been waiting for the call. Watching her shimmy down the ropes and scuttle across the deck, Rafe had no trouble imagining her as the master pickpocket she'd claimed to be. Her every move was silent and assured, not a single step out of place despite the swaying waves.
"You called, Captain?" A grin played across her lips, ripe with amusement. He'd never seen her serious, never seen her without a joke upon her tongue. It made him curious as to what she was trying to hide. He, of all people, recognized a guarded heart when he saw one.
"I did. Rafe and I have come to an understanding."
"Thank magic," Brighty interjected with a roll of her milky eyes. "There was only so much moping I could take before I pushed him over myself."
Rafe frowned at her.
She winked at him.
"As I was saying," the captain gently chided, "we've come to an understanding and he'll be joining the crew for the time being. It's not easy to teach a man of the sky to be at home on the sea, but if anyone's up to the challenge, it's you. Show him the ropes. Teach him to stand on two steady feet. You know what to do."
"Aye, aye, Captain."
"Good." Captain Rokaro turned back to Rafe. "You know where I am if you need me."
She was gone with a swish of wind as the single wing she still possessed rippled the air. Before he could ruminate over the conversation, Brighty grabbed his arm and yanked surprisingly hard for a girl so petite.
"Let's go."
"Where?"
"Captain said to show you the ropes, so I'm showing you the ropes."
Rafe let her pull him along. They climbed down a set of stairs and traversed the main area of the deck, her feet steady while his stumbled.
At home on the sea. He huffed. The chances of that happening seemed even more unlikely than him ever regaining his wings. He'd never get used to this place—to the moisture always clinging to his skin, to the heaviness of the air as he breathed it in, to the constant push and pull of water. He missed the trees. He missed the sun. Most of all, he missed the sky.
"All right," Brighty said as she stopped by the main mast, grabbing a set of thickly woven ropes from where they pooled at its base. "These are the ropes."
Rafe snorted. "I don't think the captain meant to literally show me the ropes."
"Are you the teacher here? Or am I?"