‘Since my mother died of fever. It was three years ago. She just . . . wasted away. I learned healing arts at the temple, and I took care of her. But even the priestess said that sometimes there’s nothing you can do.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Dion said. ‘I . . . I didn’t mean to bring up old wounds.’

‘Not so old,’ said Chloe, still watching the waves. ‘I still think about her.’

Another silence grew, broken only by the splash of the bucket, the snap of wind in the sail, the groaning of the vessel’s planking, and the waves pounding at the Calypso’s hull.

Chloe glanced at Dion when he wasn’t looking. The constant wind had blown his sandy brown hair into complete disarray and his time on the sea had tanned the skin of his face a deep brown. His lips were burned and there was stubble on his chin, but it was a square jaw, and his body was lean and toned. He didn’t have the build of a swordsman but he looked strong. He wasn’t a warrior, but he was a fighter.

He moved tirelessly as he bent down, filled the bucket with water, and tossed it over the side. He looked like he would keep going for hours, and she knew he could.

When she had been captured, taken from her home, Dion was the only one who had come looking for her. He had sailed across the great expanse of the Maltherean Sea, to a place he had never been to, for her.

‘And you?’ Chloe asked. ‘Do you miss your family?’

He turned to her as if surprised she’d asked him a direct question. ‘I do. My older brother, Nikolas, was always good to me. He gave me that bow, and without it I’d be dead many times over. He tried to teach me to fight with a sword, but’—Dion shrugged—‘I never could master it. So he introduced me to the bow.’

‘You use that bow as if you were born to it,’ Chloe said.

‘Plenty of practice.’ Dion grinned. He hauled another bucket of water over the side. ‘But my father doesn’t think archery is a fitting skill for the son of a king. So I searched for something else to do. Once again, it was Nikolas who gave me into the care of someone, an old sailor. I found I liked the sea. No’—he shook his head—‘I love the sea.’

Chloe thought again about the vast open space they were in, at the mercy of the remorseless weather, waves, and wind. ‘Even when there’s a storm bearing down and a dragon on your tail?’

He laughed. ‘Even then. We made it, didn’t we? And despite what you may think, we wouldn’t have made it without the both of us.’

Chloe felt color come to her cheeks. ‘Tell me about your mother,’ she said.