The Cursed Sea by Lauren DeStefano

Author:Lauren DeStefano
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2018-11-01T16:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Two

THOUGH THE WESTERN ISLES WERE neutral territory, and though the ship arrived silently and without incident, Wil was too uneasy to sleep.

While everyone else retreated belowdecks to salvage what precious hours remained before sunrise, Wil paced the length of the deck. When this did nothing to settle her, she descended and strolled the line where the water met the sand, keeping the ship in sight.

Though she hadn’t inherited her mother’s gold hair or blue eyes, Wil did have her restless and nomadic spirit. An insomniac’s soul. She couldn’t help it. Back at the castle, Wil often slept deeply and dreamlessly, worn from whatever mission she had carried out for her father or brothers. But without that accomplished exhaustion, her thoughts came alive at night.

Now, she thought of Loom killing Espel. If it came to that, Wil knew it would be necessary. Loom would try to spare his sister’s life by any means. But he was not above claiming his kingdom at all costs.

She thought of Owen. Of the heavy and horrific loss that sat forever in her chest, fossilized by guilt. Owen’s loss was fused to her bones. What she had done to him would never leave her.

She didn’t want that for Loom. But she had made a promise and she’d meant it; it was his decision and his alone.

She sat on a sand dune some distance from the water. She liked sand; it was soft and malleable, yet immune to her curse. It didn’t splinter and stab at her the way grass did.

When all this was through, she might spend the rest of her life traveling between beaches. Northern Arrod’s Port Capital was waterfront, but it was all sidewalks and city, no real beach to speak of.

She turned her head when she heard the gentle whisper of footsteps kicking away sand. Loom was approaching, his stride uncertain and tenuous. She smiled to let him know that he was welcome to join her. The smile felt wrong and forced and fake, and she cursed herself for it.

He was shivering when he sat beside her, but he unwound the knitted blanket from his shoulders and fitted it over hers.

“Thought you might have frozen to death by now,” he said.

“Not a chance.” Wil raised her head into the forthcoming breeze. “Cold is good for you. Gets the blood flowing.”

“I’m not sure how well my blood will flow if it’s frozen,” Loom said.

She laughed, and threw half of the blanket around him. He burrowed into it gratefully.

Wind blew her hair across her face, and Loom snared it with his finger and tucked it behind her ear.

They had orbited closer to each other now. His eyes held hers. They were dark and lovely and as endless as the sea. Wil forgot whatever it was she had been about to say.

The curse that bound their hearts was a cruel one, but it was not nearly so cruel as the burning white stars and the whispering wind and the night that lied and told her she could have what she wanted.

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