“Navok’s not your problem,” Caldon said firmly.
“I’m sorry, did you miss the part where I almost had to marry him?” Kiva spluttered.
“I’ll rephrase: Navok’s not exclusively your problem,” Caldon said. “Yes, fine, we all know he’s desperate to get his hands on you and your magic, but the larger picture is, Navok is a problem for all of us, in the sense that he wants to take over the world. And with an anomaly army, he could probably do that. But that’s why we’re on this ridiculous quest — to stop that from happening. We’re already doing everything we can, Sunshine, so let go of your worries and trust the process.”
Kiva mulled over Caldon’s words, her gaze dropping to where Sarana’s second ring still encircled her finger. Her mind skipped from one thought to the next, before she finally asked, “Now that we have two of the rings, should we just leave the others where they are? Even if Navok finds the final two on his own, he’ll still need the ones we have.” She’d barely started speaking before realizing there were too many unknowns for them to leave it to chance. Ashlyn had once wondered if they were playing into Navok’s hands by retrieving the rings, and Jaren had agreed that they probably were, but at least the Hand would be safe in their possession — and they could use it against Navok. Never mind that Kiva’s main reason for getting the rings hadn’t changed, that being to return Jaren’s magic. Maybe then she’d be able to rid herself of her allconsuming guilt and finally move on from everything she felt toward him. Gods knew that was something she desperately needed, now more than ever after the humiliating events of last night.
“Judging by the look on your face, you figured out your own answer,” Caldon said, tipping his head toward the sun and closing his eyes, his golden hair shifting in the breeze. “But to confirm, it’s too risky. If we have all the rings, we have all the power. And we can use that power to make our own anomalies to combat his, should he move on Evalon.”
“We’d only use the Hand on willing people though, right?” Kiva said carefully. “Those who actually want magic and volunteer to fight?”
Caldon turned back to her, frowning. “I can’t believe you just asked that.”
Kiva felt instant remorse. She knew that wasn’t the Vallentis way, to force someone into something they didn’t want. “Sorry. I just —”
Her mouth snapped shut, but not because of Caldon’s indignant expression; it was because two new people had appeared on the deck, one wearing a feathered captain’s hat, and the other —
Jaren.
He did a double take when he saw her, and said something quickly to the short, dark-skinned captain, before heading straight for where she and Caldon stood.
Kiva made an alarmed sound and blurted out a nonsensical, “Headache. Sleep. Now. Later.” Then she ran from Caldon, ignoring his frustrated voice calling after her. All she knew was that she couldn’t face Jaren. Not yet. So she hurriedly retraced her steps from earlier, almost tumbling back down the narrow stairs before somehow finding the boxy cabin she’d awoken in. More alert now, she realized there were two small beds, not one, but she didn’t spare a thought to who her bunkmate was, slamming the door and locking it, then sliding down with her back resting against the wood.
A moment later, there was a loud knock, followed by the sound of the handle rattling.
“Kiva, let me in.”
Jaren’s command caused her racing heart to stutter. She was frozen, unable to think of anything but the previous night and everything she’d said while under the influence of the angeldust.
“Please, Kiva,” he said, his voice muffled by the wood. “We need to talk.”
But Kiva didn’t want to talk. She knew why he was there — because he was Jaren. Last night, she’d shared too much, and now he knew exactly what she was feeling.
Knowing he wants nothing to do with me kills me. Every time I look at him, I feel like I can’t breathe.
Kiva closed her eyes as renewed embarrassment swept over her.
I’m in love with him, can you believe it?
She covered her face and drew her knees up to her chest, wishing she could go back in time, wishing she could forget.
But wishes were for fools. So Kiva just sat there, waiting until she heard a quiet sigh and then his footsteps moving away. Only then did her tension fade, her shoulders slumping as her adrenaline fled, the pain in her temples now shrieking. But she didn’t move, didn’t try to get more comfortable. Instead, she attempted to piece together her heart, knowing it was impossible — because it had just walked away.
Kiva spent the rest of the day locked in her cabin, but she didn’t waste it sulking or fretting. It took a few hours for her stomach to settle, and a few more for her headache and muscle pains to ease as the last of the angeldust was purged from her body, but she used that time to think, to strategize.
Yes, she’d made a fool of herself the previous night. Yes, she’d said things she wished no one — especially Jaren — had ever heard. But she couldn’t change the past, so now she just had to live with it.
It was that realization that had her leaving the small cabin that night and venturing onto the deck once more, following the rowdy sounds of voices until she reached an open door toward the back of the boat, beneath where Tipp and Galdric had been standing on the higher deck that morning. It was the captain’s quarters, Kiva realized once she edged closer, and inside he was dining with her friends and what must have been most of his very boisterous crew at a large wooden table loaded with steaming food. Her stomach made a gurgling noise as the scents of cooked meat and fresh bread hit her, and she pressed a hand to her middle, uncertain if she was hungry or still nauseous. But she didn’t feel the urge to run toward the railing again, so she inched forward, her nerves thrumming as she spotted Jaren sitting at the crowded table beside Tipp and Torell, the three of them laughing at whatever the young boy had just said.
The image knocked the breath out of Kiva, and she must have made a jerking motion, because Jaren looked up and saw her, something shifting over his face that she couldn’t read. She didn’t turn away this time, only moved further into the room, relieved that the captain and his crew had engaged the rest of her companions enough that they didn’t notice her sneaking in and claiming the empty seat beside Caldon.
“It’s good to know my training’s paying off,” he said, passing her a basket of warm rolls.
“Sorry?” Kiva asked, busy trying to calm her nerves.
“I’ve never seen you run as fast as you did today.”
Kiva grimaced and turned to him with an apology on her tongue, only to see the laughter in his eyes. She pulled a face, causing him to chuckle.
“Are you good?” he asked. “Or should we anticipate another mad dash?”
“I’m good,” she promised, taking a cautious bite and nearly moaning at the soft, buttery flavor of the dough. “I may have . . . overreacted, earlier today.”
Caldon held up his thumb and forefinger, pressing them together. “Just a smidge.”
“In my defense —”
“No defense needed,” he said, loading her plate with food. “You panicked. It happens to the best of us. Now eat up, because we can still fit in some training tonight. And just so you know, Cresta’s been waiting all day for you to feel better so she can scream at you without feeling guilty about it. My guess is, you don’t want to face that on an empty stomach.”