The scale sparkled between her fingers. “How do you know that the story you tell is true?” Sol asked. “Where did you hear such a tale?”
His eyes flashed. “My mother believed in the Dragon’s Heart.”
There was a part of her that wanted to reach for him, to let him know he was not alone.
Sol was starting to forget her own mother. She could not recall the sound of her voice or what it felt like to be wrapped in her arms. But she carried that loss with her always, in her heart and in the chain around her neck. She reckoned that Fynn did, too, and she wondered if he were lucky enough to have something of his mother’s to remember her by.
Even Draven seemed to still at Fynn’s words, his quiet breaths catching in the back of his throat. The direwolf lifted his head. He assessed Fynn with silver eyes before nuzzling his nose into the Captain’s open palm. “Does this mean you’ll finally stop growling at me?”
Draven snarled half-heartedly.
Sol flicked his ear and he returned his head to her lap. “Is your mother who told you these stories?”
Fynn raked his fingers through his hair. “She told me of the dragons every night. Of Indyr and the woman who tried to save him. She believed that the Dragon’s Heart is out there, and like the boy who promised to keep it safe, I promised my mother I would find it.”
She let his words sink into her.
Such a cruel task for a mother to give her son. If Fynn were anything like Silas, who’d sworn to their mother he’d protect Sol until his dying breath, he would not forgive himself if he never found the Dragon’s Heart.
But there were matters at hand far more harrowing than Fynn’s disappointment should he fail this final request.
“Why would you want the Dragon’s Heart?” Sol asked quietly. “Why do you need that kind of power? If what you say is true…”
His eyes widened as if realizing some grave misconception. “I don’t need that kind of power,” Fynn explained. “But neither does anyone else.”
The scale was slick with saltwater summoned from her Magic’s anxious thrum. It slipped through her fingers and clattered against the planks between them. “If it’s missing,” Sol mused. “Perhaps it should stay that way.”
“It won’t stay missing for long,” Fynn countered. “The King of Dyn is looking for it.”
Sol’s heart skipped one beat, two, sputtering to a painful stall inside her chest. Her blood was ice in her veins, frozen by the Magic that guttered there. “King Caidem?”
“Yes.” Fynn reached for the discarded scale and clenched it tightly in his fist. “I suppose you’ve heard the rumors about the Grayclaw family. How ruthless and cunning and cruel they are.”
She could not breathe, not with this new information, this new threat that Sol suddenly found herself at the center of. Such vast power in the hands of a man so cruel… He could easily wipe Sonamire from existence.
Her fingers shook as she pulled them through Draven’s fur, the direwolf alert and looking at her. His eyes met the Princess’ gaze, and Sol swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ve heard more about the Crown Prince than I have Caidem,” she told him. “I’ve heard that he’s a terrible man.”
Warm air filled her aching lungs. By the way his brow had creased, Sol knew that Fynn was behind the Magic coaxing her body to breathe. If she weren’t so embarrassed that he’d had to help her at all, she’d have thanked him.
“Thane Grayclaw is the worst of them,” Fynn confirmed. “And I’m certain he’s looking for it, too.”
She shuddered. “Why do they want the Dragon’s Heart? What would he do with it?”
“I don’t know,” Fynn confessed. “But I will not let them find it first.”
Sol inhaled with Fynn’s silent assistance. “How do you know they want it?”
“I have a friend in Dyn who works in the palace.” A muscle ticked in the Captain’s jaw. “She overheard Caidem and Thane talking about the tales I once told her. I meet with her in Knamelle every couple of months to see if she’s learned anything new.”
“What would you do with it?” Sol inquired. “If you found it before the Greyclaws.”
“I’d take it to the middle of the Emerald and throw it overboard.” Fynn took a breath of his own. His Magic withdrew from Sol’s lungs, a soothing warmth left in its wake that calmed her trembling power. “No one would ever find it at the bottom of the sea.”
“Just the creatures who dwelled there.”
Fynn tossed his scale onto the bed behind Sol. “Maybe the sea itself will learn to harness its power. Maybe Thymis will claim it for herself.”
Sol’s stomach churned. “You shouldn’t say such things to the girl who’s not yet had the chance to win Thymis’ favor.”
His grin brought out the dimples in his cheeks. “Don’t worry,” Fynn said. “Thymis has loved me since the moment I stepped foot on this ship. Should she cast her rage upon the Emerald, the safest place on the sea is the Refuge.”
A small laugh bubbled out of her.
Sol fiddled with Draven’s ear until he huffed at her. “You don’t want the Dragon’s Heart for yourself?”
Fynn’s lips thinned to a line of hard absolution. “No,” he answered firmly. “No one should Wield that kind of power. Especially me.”
A fair answer, Sol decided. One that she would not press. “Is that why we’re going to Dryu, then?” she asked instead. “To see if they have the scale?”
“The island’s Elder, Nero, is an absolute bastard. Amael doesn’t think he has it, but he may have a clue as to where it might be.” Fynn stretched his arms before sprawling his legs out in front of him. “I’ve gone back once to try and speak with him, but it was too soon after Amael had been exiled. They tried to kill him for returning.”
“Is it safe for him to go back now?”
Fynn shook his head. “Amael won’t be joining me on the island.”
Sol blanched. “Will Riel?”
He raised an eyebrow. “No. My crew will stay on the ship.” Fynn must have sensed her growing concern because he continued, “I won’t risk their lives over something that may not exist. The Dryuans don’t like outsiders, especially those harboring one of their own. The last time we visited, I took a spear to the chest that was meant to kill Amael. I won’t make that same mistake twice. I go alone.”
Sol scrambled onto her knees and pushed Draven from her lap. “You what?”
“I’m surprised you didn’t ask about the scar when you were healing me.” Fynn touch the center of his chest. “It’s right here.”
There was a part of her that wanted to slap him for being so casual about a wound that could have killed him. “Of course I didn’t ask about the scar,” Sol shrieked. “I was busy making sure you didn’t die!” She shuffled closer and braced her hands on his knees. Terror shot up her spine for the man who had risked so much for her. “You can’t go there alone, Fynn. I won’t let you. At least take Riel.”
Fynn snorted. “If I take Riel with me, we’ll both die. As I’m sure you’ve learned these past weeks, she has a hard time keeping her mouth shut.”