ELEA
TEN MONTHS LATER . . .
Fear smelled like a mixture of gunpowder, charcoal, and sweat.
A cannonball rolled across the sea-soaked wooden floor of their cabin and bumped into Elea’s wet boot, bruising her foot. She buried her face into her arms as more wooden splinters flew into the small berth that she shared with her cousin. One piece of wood cut Elea’s arm and she felt the warm, sticky feeling of blood dripping from the wound. The metallic scent of iron filled the air.
Suddenly, the splinters stopped. Elea glanced up to see what had changed.
The barrage of cannonballs continued, but her cousin Nora was standing in front of her, shielding her from further damage. Protecting her like she always had growing up. In her arms was the carrier pigeons’ cage.
Then, as suddenly as the attack had started, it stopped.
Silence.
Not even the pigeons were making a sound.
“Let me wrap your wound, my queen,” Nora said, setting the cage on the floor and pulling out a white handkerchief with the royal arms of Urka embroidered in one corner. She wrapped it around Elea’s wounded arm and tied it tightly in a double knot.
“Is it over?” Elea asked, unable to keep the desperate hope out of her voice.
Nora shook her head. “No, it is only the beginning. The Kaulish Navy is going to board this merchant vessel and start killing everyone until the captain surrenders.”
Elea released a shuddered breath. Her home island was protected by the black mist of the Dark Channel. Still, Urka’s wealth in gold had brought many armies to its shore. Their oldest and greatest enemy from the nearby continent was Kaul. Her father had hoped by marrying her into the Sanian royal line, the second-largest country on the continent, that Kaul would cease aggressions against them.
“Do you think the Kauls know that we are here?”
Her cousin twisted her neck before answering. “Why else would two of the largest ships in the Kaulish Navy attack a small merchant vessel? Of course they know we are here. An Urkan queen is worth ten times more than all the caskets of spice in the hold.”
Nora smelled of eucalyptus. The scent of truth. Elea could always tell if someone was lying. She had been blessed by their goddess Màthair with discernment. Or a gift better known as thesmell. By their scent, she could identify a person’s emotions, motivations, and even their lies.
She watched Nora open her trunk, pulling out a piece of paper and a quill. Nora dipped the quill in ink and wrote something. Then, without allowing the ink to dry, she rolled up the letter, reached through the bars and attached it to one of the carrier pigeons’ legs. Opening the cage, she let all the carrier pigeons out. They flew around the cabin before darting out of the small ship window and cannonball holes.
If only Elea and Nora could escape the same way.
“Did you write for help?” Elea asked, holding on to her wounded arm where blood continued to seep through the handkerchief.
“No one is close enough to help us, my queen,” her cousin said, starting to pace the wet floor in their tiny cabin.
Elea felt goosebumps form on her arms and a sense of dread grow deep in her heart. Nora was right. The men who were boarding their ship smelled of death. They weren’t trying to win the goods in the hold—they were there to kill the passengers. She stood up, walking around the debris on the floor to look out their only window. Grappling hooks flew through the air, and countless men wearing black uniforms boarded their ship. She didn’t need to hear the sickening sound of gunshots or clashing of swords to know that Captain Ó Murta and her merchant sailors were losing the battle.
“Just because my father and half brother were murdered during Laird Lochdon’s coup d'état doesn’t mean you have to call me ‘my queen’ all the time,” Elea said, embarrassed by her new and unexpected position. “We’re cousins, after all. Even if you did betray me. Like your father betrayed mine.”
Nora’s face went red like it always did when her monster of a father was mentioned. He’d murdered the royal family and taken control of the Urkan throne.
“Don’t compare me to him,” Nora huffed, and ran her hands through her messy hair. “This is hardly the time to start a fight, when we are about to be taken prisoner or killed, Elea. And ridiculous too, for you know that I am telling you the truth. I have not once encouraged Matteo.”
Elea bit her lip. “I’m angry that you still have feelings for him.”
And that Matteo has feelings for you.
Her cousin groaned loudly and bared her teeth. “I can’t help my feelings, all right? I have done everything in my power to stay away from him, to be loyal to you. It’s not my fault that he refused to follow through with the treaty and consummate the marriage with you.”
But itwasNora’s fault. The new Sanian king loved Nora. The smell was so strong that it was hard to be in the same room as Matteo. And the more his love for Nora grew, the more he began to hate Elea. His smell always gave him away. He had refused to fulfill his dying father’s last wish to complete the treaty.
Sometimes Elea’s gift felt more like a curse, for she knew the deepest and most secret desires of everyone around her. She backed away from the exterior wall as their vessel was bumped by one of the attacking ships. Losing her footing on the wet floor, she started to fall, but Nora’s right arm caught her in a bruising grip and set her right again.
The faint scent of lavender filled her nostrils—loyalty.