He waved them aboard, and Knigh made brief introductions—thankfully setting sail prevented anything longer. Much as she was curious to meet a friend of Knigh Blackwood’s and much as this Billy seemed warm, his joviality grated this morning.

It had been a long night.

And, she reminded herself with a glance at the distant grey castle, it wasn’t over yet.

They still had to make good their escape.

In the End

Between giving orders to his crew, Billy waved Vice and Knigh aft, saying they’d get the best view and wouldn’t be in the way up at the stern of the quarterdeck.

Holding hands, they went in silence. The only noises were the crew’s voices as they worked and the sounds of a vessel—wind and canvas and wave. Barnacle jumped down from Vice’s shoulders and began sniffing her way around the ship.

Vice’s lips still tingled from that kiss. Their last. Ever.

Knigh’s hand on hers was a death grip. Maybe he was still feeling the after-effects, too. Or maybe it was just the close call with the marines.

Once they pushed away from the jetty, the ship swayed, and she blew a long sigh. Movement, that was better. Just like she’d said to Knigh in deLacy’s horrible still ballroom. That part of their conversation hadn’t been a lie.

They reached the rail, and she leant partially against it and partially against Knigh. They looked astern, watching Portsmouth drift further away.

The wind tugged her hair as if it were glad to see her back. Although she could affect the weather over land, it was always easier at sea. Maybe something about the combination of her gifts or just some fae-blooded affinity with the sea. Who knew?

Without any help from her—she had too little energy left—that same wind filled the Swallow’s sails and pushed them along.

Warm at her side, Knigh squeezed her hand as they watched the shops, taverns, and wharves on the seafront grow smaller …

Eyes aching, chest tight, she scanned the jetties. Marines could still appear. Their rifles could easily cover this distance. Something about the tension in Knigh’s body against hers said he thought the same.

… Smaller …

Nothing yet. But their way could be blocked. Swallowing, she turned to check fore. Ahead was only sea—the gap that would lead them out from between Portsmouth and the Isle of Wights.

… Smaller …

The buildings on the seafront were just a dark line with the pinkish dawn starting behind.

No bells sounded an alarm. Maybe they hadn’t found her empty cage yet. Maybe Knigh was right, and they were keeping it quiet. With a little luck, they’d stay quiet until she was out on the open ocean.

The tension in his arm ebbed, and his thumb stroked the back of her hand.

She nodded. She felt it too.

They were away.