With convincing grace, the prophetess rose from her seat and glided over the deck to where Zane stood. Tigris eyed them carefully from his spot, feeling left out, no doubt.

Zane stood tall again, wishing only to remind his mother how much he had grown these last seasons.

“Steelheart.” A smile cracked at the furthest edge of her red-painted lips. Her hand came against his forearm, patching over his permanent ink symbol that informed all he crossed that he belonged to this crew.

Zane’s eyes darted down to that hand.

“I wish you good tidings in your race,” was all she said.

Zane fought a grimace at the sight of her wild eyes which were paler than normal today. “I don’t need your well wishes. But I wonder what will happen to poor Tigris when I beat him? Do you think the crew will still want him as their captain after I scrub the seaweed floors with him?”

Those pale eyes flickered. “Careful, Steelheart.” The whisper was sweet, but a warning.

Zane released a laugh. “I bloody better be. I have no doubt you’re counting down the sunsets until you can turn this crew on me and carve a bone dagger into my back,” he growled. “Leave me to my race, Mother. Watch me beat your champion.”

Silence. Zane could almost taste the fury leaking from the woman.

“As you wish.” A gloat.

Zane eyed her as she sauntered back to her seat across the deck, the necklace of bones at her throat clapping together with a ruckus.

“Go!”

At Sembleton’s roar, Zane spun back to find Tigris bolting across the main deck.

With a grunt, Zane sprinted after his rival and hopped the rail, falling far and fast toward the needles of ice stabbing from the shattered, frozen blanket of the snowseas.

He twisted his body to avoid the spikes and straightened into a dive as he hit the water, gliding beneath the bitter waves like a bird arching through a rippling sky.

Numbness bit at his nose and extremities—a feeling that might render most to panic. But Zane had come to win and prove to his mother that she did not get to adjust his future with a mere flick of her fingers whenever she liked.

A low groan rumbled through the water and Zane grinned, a brush of icy current leaking against his teeth. Through the weeds, he spotted Tigris diving into the frosty marsh in search of a pure black pearl. It was a gamble to test the weeds, as sirens often came out to play when the plants were disturbed.

But he knew his own way around the marsh and knew where to best look for a pearl.