Turning stiffly, Kiva found him holding a damp cloth in one hand and a tumbler full of water in the other, pushing both toward her. She took the offerings, wiping her mouth before guzzling down the water, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. But then his arm shot out and he tilted her head until their gazes met.
She braced, certain he would be furious that she’d chosen the angeldust, and perhaps even more livid that she hadn’t told him about Zalindov. He was her best friend, and yet, she’d been too ashamed to tell him how far she’d fallen in those early days at the prison.
But Caldon didn’t yell at her. There wasn’t a single trace of anger on his face. Instead, all he said was, “You missed your training this morning.”
Kiva’s lips wobbled, emotion slamming into her.
“Don’t cry,” Caldon said firmly. “If you cry, I’ll cry. No one wants to see that.”
Despite his warning, tears prickled her eyes.
“What did I just tell you?” Caldon said, frowning. But then he sighed and tugged her into his arms.
She hiccupped, but managed to get control of herself before she descended into full-blown sobbing. “I’m sorry,” she said shakily. “I just need a minute.”
“Take all the time you want, Sunshine,” Caldon said, tucking her under his chin. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His soft declaration smoothed a jagged piece of her, and she was soon able to pull away and say, “I really messed up last night.”
“No more than usual.” His mouth quirked. “It’s becoming a running theme with you. At least no one got stabbed this time.”
“I feel like I did,” Kiva said, pressing a hand to her pounding head. Now that emptying her stomach wasn’t her priority, she was becoming increasingly aware of her throbbing temples and tired, achy muscles. “Are you sure we didn’t train today? I feel like I’ve been trampled.”
“Cresta says it’ll ease in a few hours,” Caldon said, nodding over Kiva’s shoulder. “But you’re going to feel rotten until then.”
Kiva followed his gaze toward the front of the ship, where she spotted the redhead sparring against both Torell and Ashlyn, the former meeting Cresta’s blade, and the latter attacking relentlessly with wind and earth magic, trying to trip them both up. Kiva marveled at their skills — not just the two generals, but Cresta herself, who was slowly gaining the upper hand.
She moves like a fighter.
Caldon’s words from weeks ago returned to Kiva, and she saw the truth of them now. Having had regular practice with competent opponents, there was no denying how talented Cresta was with a blade, how single-minded she was in her focus.
But Kiva didn’t keep her eyes on the trio for long. Instead, she nervously scanned the rest of the deck, seeing Eidran and Naari sitting in the shade of the foremast, cleaning their weapons, while Tipp was standing with Galdric on a higher deck at the back of the ship, pointing up at the sails, which were straining against an unnatural amount of wind. It was then that Kiva realized they were gliding through the water much faster than was surely normal, making her wonder if Galdric was using his magic to propel them forward.
Delaying the one question she was most anxious about — that being, where Jaren was — Kiva asked, somewhat stupidly, “Why are we on a ship?”
Caldon pulled an apple from his pocket and handed it over. He waited for her to take a tentative nibble before answering, “The others didn’t have any luck with the anomalies, but they realized while they were gone that, given how far Lyras is from Ersa, we’d make better time by sailing — especially with two wind elementals among us.”
So Kiva had been right: Galdric was using his magic to quicken their journey.
“This is one of Sibley’s vessels,” Caldon said, patting the railing. “His crew, too, but they mostly keep to themselves — aside from when they’re gawking at our magic. To them, we’re like something out of a legend.” He shook his head, amused, then went on, “There’s a cook, which means no travel rations for a few days, and there’s also a groom, who’s keeping the horses calm — they’re in stalls down below, in case you’re worried about that beast of yours.” He arched an eyebrow, before adding, “And since I know you’re desperate to ask but afraid of the answer, Jaren’s with the captain right now, so you can stop looking terrified that he’s going to appear out of nowhere.”
Kiva acted as if she had no idea what he was talking about. Caldon chuckled, but his humor faded quickly, turning into concern as he said, “It’s a small ship, Sweet Cheeks. We’ll be crammed together for another few days before we’re close enough to windfunnel the rest of the way. You won’t be able to avoid him. And I think, after what he heard last night —”
“Please, don’t,” Kiva interrupted hoarsely. The small bite of apple wasn’t sitting well, but she was unsure if that was because of her angeldust detox, or their conversation. “I’d really like to forget that happened.”
“You can forget all you want,” Caldon said, “but that doesn’t mean he will.”
Kiva closed her eyes briefly before turning to stare out at the ocean. In a trembling whisper, she asked, “Do the others know about last night?”
Caldon snorted. “Do you think your brother would be sparring right now if he had any idea? We told him you weren’t feeling well, and you took a moradine tonic to sleep it off. He didn’t bat an eyelash when Jaren carried you onto the ship.”
Kiva swiftly repressed that image. “What about Tipp? I know Naari won’t say anything, but Tipp . . .”
“Jaren told him you wouldn’t want Tor knowing what happened,” Caldon said, “so Tipp promised to keep quiet. But be warned, he’s probably going to be clingy for the next few days. He didn’t like seeing you like that.” Caldon nudged her shoulder. “None of us did.”
Kiva attempted a weak smile. “You should have seen me in Zalindov.”
Caldon’s face darkened, and she instantly regretted her words.
To keep his mind off what she’d gone through at the prison, she quickly said, “I’ve never been on a boat before. Is there anything I need to know? Or do?”
“For today, you just need to rest,” Caldon said. “When you’re not at risk of puking your guts up, we’ll make the most of our time and train as much as we can until Galdric magics us to Lyras. We won’t have many more chances after that, since Lyras and Arden are close enough for us to windfunnel directly between them. And after Arden . . .”
“We head back to Vallenia,” Kiva said, her insides churning at the thought of confronting her sister.
“Hey, don’t jump ahead,” Caldon said, nudging her again. “One day at a time.”
“But I still have so much to learn,” she said, rubbing her temples as the throbbing intensified. “What if I can’t —”
Caldon interrupted, “There’s no point living in what-ifs. Don’t waste energy fearing problems that don’t yet exist.”
“But Zuleeka does exist.”
“Yes, but you don’t have to face her today.”
Kiva still couldn’t let it go. “And Navok exists, too.”