“Do we have a set course, or are we just heading north with a prayer to guide us?” Krinny yelled from the wheel.

“Ketner, stand post,” Rylander shouted, headed in the opposite direction. “Krinny, meet Captain Lou, Smitter, and me in my quarters.”

I jogged to his side. My new bronze dagger bounced off my thigh, a reminder of our mission’s benefactor. “You do have a plan, right?” I said in undertones.

His answering lopsided smirk made his dimple wink at me. “Of course, I do. You doubt me?”

“Yes. Every day, all day long,” I drawled.

I followed him toward his newly commissioned room. The king’s men had already knocked down a wall and combined two officer cabins for Rylander’s chamber before I could halt their renovations. In fact, by the time Rylander got to them, I doubted they’d had much left to accomplish. But Rylander’s understanding was enough to satisfy me.

“I think I’ve earned a little faith.” His elbow nudged my side.

I pushed him out of my personal space. “How so?”

“I fought at your side the other day, though it was futile, didn’t I?”

“I do not want to talk about that night.” I crossed my arms, jerking to a complete stop in front of his door. My jaw clamped shut, my teeth grinding away any thankfulness I’d had for his actions.

“Which part?” He leaned in, and his lips brushed my ear. “The fighting or the…”

I sucked in a breath, pulse quickening against my better instincts.

Rylander must have noticed, but I dared not move, lest I give away my internal struggle.

“Would you push me away again, I wonder?” he murmured.

“Captain?” Krinny’s voice broke the tension like a snapped tether.

I cleared my throat and stepped aside. “We were just about to go in. Weren’t we?” I glared at Rylander. He combatted my anger with a smug smirk.

Krinny’s raised brow questioned me, but I shook my head.

Rylander opened the door and waved us through. Inside to the right sat a plush bed with plum linens. On the opposite side, a long mahogany desk with griffin head legs was bolted to the floorboards. Next to it stood an armoire, the gilded handles making the shape of a lyre. Why was the king so enamored with the symbols of Apollo?

Rylander pulled a rolled map from one of his cabinets and laid it out on his desk. He weighted the curling edges with a few chunks of sea glass.

“What have I missed?” Smitter sauntered into the room, blond curls bouncing. He positioned himself between Krinny and me around the chart.

“Nothing yet. I’m showing Krinny and the captain here the path we will take.”

I pointed to the island marked Anthemusa. “Why is it shaped like a fluke? On all the maps I’ve seen, it’s depicted more like a turkey leg.”