He was deliberately shielding her, in case marines waited outside. And he’d been so gentle last night, like a mother cat lifting kittens by the scruffs of their necks. It had always amazed her how they did that without injuring the little things with their sharp canines. Now here he was, the fearsome warrior, the berserker who’d bathed her and scrubbed behind her ears. Who’d massaged shampoo into her scalp. Who’d even combed her hair so carefully it had almost made her weep with gratitude.

She swallowed, trembling, but no shots rang out, and there was no clang of steel on steel.

His shoulders lowered an inch, and he slipped into the alley, offering his hand.

She looked at it. She could refuse. After what he’d done, did she really want to touch him?

But, damn it, yes, she did. At least for now. The sky was lightening, approaching dawn, but it was still dark, still cold. And although she’d never been afraid of the dark before, this night was different.

If the Navy had their way, it was the last night she’d see.

With a heavy breath out, she took his hand and walked into the darkness.

They slid between the shadows. Her own slowness pained her, but at least her step was as quiet as ever. Thank the fair folk for her fae blood. Maybe there was some truth in the old wives’ tale that they could walk silently, even over a hall of shattered glass.

Her breath was too loud in her ears. And her heart—it roared in a fast, uneven beat, making her clutch her chest. But apparently, she was the only one who could hear it, because Knigh didn’t turn and tell her to hush.

They swept west, then south, judging by the paler shade of blue behind, then turned left. He had to be leading them in a route to avoid all those marines.

Swallowing, she squeezed his hand. If they find us … 

When they paused in the next alleyway, she caught her breath. That smell—was that …

She sniffed the air. Yes. A low groan slipped from her mouth. The sea. They were near. It called to her, said that if she just spread her awareness, it would cradle her, weightless, away from the pain, away from the blasted weakness shaking through her limbs.

Knigh glanced back the way they’d come as she released his hand and crept further into the alley.

Waves lapped at ships, smacking and splashing and rushing.

Lords, they were so close. She could taste the iodine and salt tang now, the odd seaweed flavour of ocean air in Albion, different from that of Arawaké.

She rounded a corner and there they were—the civilian docks. If she’d been well enough to, she’d have run.