If an ancient miracle awakened and allowed him to escape this fate, Zane swore he would kill Tigris for this. Their rivalry had settled on the side of dangerous over the seasons, but this…this was a new level of backstabbing.

Interesting, the thing said back. But now that I’ve smelled you, I’m sure I’ll crave your blood incessantly. The creature quivered. Your blood smells of mint and the forests above. And…anger. Pure, undiluted anger.

Fine. Zane swallowed, his chest burning like open flames. Hunt me for the remainder of my timestring if you must. But even so, I’d like to make a deal.

And what do you wish to bargain for? the thing asked.

Well. I’d rather like to live today.

The red and orange sky had melted to gray and purple when Zane climbed the ladder and tumbled to the deck of the Kelidestone. Cries of surprise lifted from nearby crewmen at the sight of his saturated, shivering body.

“Frostbite!” Sembleton leaned to see Zane for himself. “We saw the octosiren’s fins brushing the ice’s underside! How did you escape?”

But Zane’s cold blue stare slid across the ship to Tigris. To his mother, who stood tall at the cheating boy’s side. “I have my secrets too,” he said.

The prophetess stared with those unwavering, pale eyes. In her own dark, subtle way, she looked pleased that he had found a way out.

“Well done.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

Zane rolled to his feet, fighting the shivers driving against his bones through his wet clothes. He stared back at his mother, bottling the fury that tempted him to shout at the woman and toss Tigris back into the snowseas to face the octosiren himself. But, instead of exploding with the anger that had gained him a pebble of respect from his crew in recent seasons, Zane marched across the deck and stood eye-to-eye with the prophetess.

“I don’t know what you’re up to. I don’t know what game this is. But leave me bloody out of it.”

That same curved smile tugged the edge of the woman’s red mouth. It was infuriating, and so Zane left for his cabin, craving dry clothes and a warm blanket.

“You lost the race, Steelheart.” Her voice trailed after him. “The crew will not be forgiving of that.”

THIRDLY

Tigris Oran-Mathsideon was a bad apple. A time or three, Tigris had left critters in Zane’s bed to keep him awake at night. Zane had growled in annoyance on the mornings he woke with red bites peppering his torso. But he always retaliated, and he always did it well. Zane’s clever mischiefs forever left Tigris more enraged and swearing revenge.