“Riding camels?”

  “Probably.” Matteo couldn’t think about his request for Avira to run away with him without cringing. He’d been a fool to ask that of her. He knew Avira, she was steadfast. When she made a choice there was no stopping her. He’d made a fool of himself.

  Avira pressed her eyes closed, sighing sweetly to herself.

  “What are you doing,” Matteo asked, taking her hand.

  “I’m imagining it: you and me in the desert on camels, the hot sand blowing on my face, the sweat rolling down my brow. I’m just imagining it. I wish it were real.”

  Matteo had nothing left to say. Thinking any further on the hypotheticals that would never be was only hurting him. He gripped her hand tight and walked her to the glider. They stood staring at it in silence for a long, slow moment. Matteo could only hear the constant thump, thump of his heart. The time had come. They had no choice but to take off.

  Chapter thirty-three

  Avira didn’t want to go.

  With the shadow of Golden Boy looming above her, every bit of her body felt frozen in place. She wanted to run. She wasn’t a good swimmer, and the gown would surely weigh her down, but maybe she could jump from the boat and float.

  There was this feeling in the bottom of her stomach that she couldn’t ignore. She tried to close her eyes and imagine the plan working. She tried to imagine Gavriel taking her hand and signing the treaty, waving Matteo away. She tried to imagine the gigantic wedding in Alvanii that her mother was most certainly already planning.

  None of it felt real. It didn’t even feel possible.

  “Are you ready?” Matteo asked. She couldn’t respond. The panic began to rise higher and higher in her throat. She pulled him close, so their faces were barely an inch apart. She could feel her body shaking.

  “Matteo, let’s not do this.”

  “What?” he whispered.

  Her eyes were growing hot. She tried to fight back the tears, but it took too much energy. They began to fall. Matteo tried mopping them up with his sleeve.

  “I can’t do it. I can’t marry him. I can’t go back. I’m not meant for Alvanii. I’ll die there.”

  A tall woman in a dark veil walked to them. “Are you two ready?”

  Avira shook her head furiously.

  “We’re running out of time,” the woman pressed.

  “This is all going to go wrong. I can feel it. I thought it would work. I’m an idiot.” Avira began to sob. “Oh, I’m such an idiot.”

  Matteo pulled her close. She dissolved into him, the sleeves of her gown pooling around his waist.

  “Avira, look at me.” He lifted her chin, so her eyes met his. “It is not stupid to believe in the best in people. That’s not stupidity. That’s hope.”

  He pulled her in tight. He forced himself to count to ten or he could hang onto her forever.

  Then, in silence, they walked to the glider. They were in the sky almost instantly, it felt too easy. Matteo’s flying skills weren’t perfect, but Avira felt confident in his ability to at least land them on board Golden Boy. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? He sends them flying into the sea and to their deaths? At least then she wouldn’t have to go with Gavriel.

  The wind stung her face. She’d hoped she could say something to Matteo before they landed, but it was far too loud for anything to be heard. Instead, she turned her face to look at his. He was focusing everything he had on piloting the glider. She tried to keep her message simple. She smiled at him. He smiled back. She gave the nod. He nodded back. And then she let go of the glider with one of her hands and touched her hand to her heart. She stretched her arm out and touched her hand to Matteo’s heart.

  She couldn’t tell if he understood, but turbulence forced her to turn back around and cling to the glider even tighter.

  Avira felt the familiar feeling of being on a skyship settle into her stomach as the glider landed. She hadn’t realized until then how much The Apollo had felt like a home. Her very own floating villa.

  Matteo stepped off of the glider first. He offered Avira his hand, and she picked up her skirts as she stepped down onto the deck. Only then did she look up and realize they had company -- lots of company.

  At least fifty of Grigori Bianco’s men had encircled them, swords at the ready. They all wore the standard golden doublet trousers set that looked so silly to Avira now, especially compared to the more practical clothes men on board The Apollo had worn.

  At the center of the men stood Gavriel. He was taller than Matteo by a significant amount. Avira admitted to herself that he was handsome. He had sharp features and bulky shoulders. But she knew what was underneath all of the preening. Gavriel would do whatever it took to get what he wanted from life. That’s why her father liked him so much.

  Gavriel stepped forward, a fake smile plastered across his broad face. He extended a hand to Avira, and she dutifully took it. He pressed his lips to her fingers.

  “My jewel. You’ve returned to me.”

  Avira tried her best to sound truthful as she spoke, “Please, Gavriel, do what they ask so we can go home and be married.” She’d never fancied herself much of an actor.

  “Who is this boy? A friend of yours?” Gavriel, still holding Avira’s hand with one of his, made a grand gesture to Matteo.

  “He’s Shaheeni nobility. He’s come to make sure you sign the treaty.”

  Gavriel shook his head. “What a shame.”

  And before Avira even had a chance to note the sarcasm on Gavriel’s voice, he’d snapped his fingers and two of his men were holding Matteo up by his collar. The men held Matteo out over the open ocean but, unlike Malvolio, Avira knew that Gavriel would not hesitate before giving the order to drop the boy to his death.

  She heard herself screaming before she realized what was happening. It was like, somewhere miles away, she could hear a young lady crying and begging for Gavriel to stop. It took a moment for her to understand that the voice was her own.

  “You should know better than to lie to me, Avira,” Gavriel whispered in her ear. “Tell me again, who is the Shaheeni boy?”

  “Matteo De Luca,” she sobbed. “Please, please, Gavriel, don’t kill him.”

  Gavriel looked at her, his cat-like eyes locked on hers. He wiped her tears with one hand, but the hand still holding hers was twisting her arm backward. She wasn’t strong enough to keep him from overpowering her.

  “I’ll let you choose, Avira. You can save the boy, or I can sign the treaty. Your call.”

  Avira snapped her head up to Matteo.

  “Choose quickly, Avira,” Matteo teased. “One….”

  Avira thought about the people of Shaheen. They weren’t ready for an attack from Gavriel. It would be a bloodbath. She thought about Mirjana and how she’d begged her mother to prepare for war.

  “Two…”

  And then Avira’s mind jumped from Shaheen to the night in the crows’ nest with Matteo. When he’d climbed all that way to bring her tea. She thought of his eyes and the future she’d ever so briefly let herself imagine with him, a future where they could dissolve into the sky together.

  “I’m getting impatient, Avira.”

  She opened her mouth to speak but didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t find the breath even to murmur a word. Gavriel blinked at her, feigning sadness. She turned away, refusing to look at him. Still dangling over the side of the ship, Matteo placed his hand on his heart and gave her a nod.

  “Neither, then.”

  And before she could process another thought, Gavriel snapped his fingers, and his men let go of Matteo. She watched him disappear below the deck. It all happened so fast. She heard someone screaming in the distance, a young woman. It took a long time to realize she was hearing herself.

  “No. No! What have you done?” she choked between sobs.

  “Men, prepare for battle.”

  “What? What do you mean? What about the treaty?”

  “This is what happens when silly little girls can’t make up their minds, Avira.”

  Gavriel was pulling her by her arm now. She couldn’t walk, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He dragged her almost to his cabin before stopping, crouching down, and looking right into her soul.

  “I’m so sorry about our betrothal being cut short, my dear.”

  “What do you mean? Are we not engaged?”

  Gavriel shook his head. “Quite the opposite. With your propensity for running away, I convinced your father that I needed to marry you as soon as I found you. How do you feel about marriage at sea?”

  Avira couldn’t speak. She could only sob. Her body shook violently, like her soul was trying to pry its way out.

  “Now go get out of that hideous dress.” Gavriel shoved her into his cabin. “I have a wedding gown waiting for you.”

  In a different scenario, Avira might have realized that Gavriel was bruising her arm. His grip on her was so tight she could feel her heart beating where his fingers met her skin. He threw her down to the ground, where she landed in a heap. Her dress bubbled up around her, and she could no longer tell where her limbs stopped and the gown began. She didn’t care much either, the tears were still streaming. Her head throbbed.

  “Oh, shut up, would you?” Gavriel said, taking a swig of liquor from a dark brown bottle on his writing desk. “You’re so ugly when you cry.”

  Avira wiped her tears. Outside the cabin, she could hear the men calling back and forth to one another as they prepared for battle.

  “Avira,” Gavriel chirped, “I can’t understand what you’re so sad about. This is the new order. This is the way the world works. Kingdoms fall. New leaders rise. Your father will rule Shaheen well. You’ll be a princess!”

  “Shaheen already has a princess,” Avira spat. It makes so much sense now. There was never going to be a treaty. Her father didn’t care about trade through Shaheen, he wanted to rule Shaheen himself.

  Avira had more to say, but she didn’t have a chance to say it. Gavriel had kicked her in the stomach so hard she couldn’t speak anymore. Every thought that swirled around in her skull hurt. Matteo. Adipe. Mirjana. They were all as good as dead, and she couldn’t do anything to stop it.

  Gavriel took another swig of the liquor. He waved his arm at a wedding gown standing in the corner. “It’s pretty, no?”

  It wasn’t pretty. Avira wasn’t going to pretend it was.

  “Avira, when we were children together, I thought you cared for me. Can you imagine how foolish I feel now, seeing you grieving this pathetic Veronan detective? He’s gone, Avira. Dead. He died instantly when his body collided with the sea. You will need to accept that. I can’t have you sobbing like this through our wedding night.”

  She moaned, the pain inside her rising up out of her body like a gust of wind.

  “I mean, what could he possibly have offered you. Not money. Not notoriety. I did us both a favor.” Gavriel crouched down and pulled Avira’s face towards him, “Your father thinks you love me. By the time we get back to Alvanii, I expect that to be true. Do you understand?”

  Avira started laughing a wet, sickly giggle.

  “What?”

  “You sure think my father is special, don’t you?”

  “I’m his second in command, you know that.”

  “Right. But if you were truly powerful you wouldn’t need his daughter as a wife to seal the deal. Just like every other soldier my father hires, you are expendable. How does that make you feel?"

  Gavriel huffed. “I don’t need you.”

  “Then throw me overboard too.”

  “You’ll love me. You’ll learn to love me.”

  Avira stood, rising from her heap on the floor. Gavriel stood with her, and their eyes locked. She caught her breath, mustering every ounce of strength she had.

  She kept her voice calm and balanced. “I used to think you were a monster,” Avira scoffed. “But now I see you are just a pathetic little man with a pathetic little ship with a stupid name.”

  He slapped her. She didn’t even flinch.

  There was a clamoring outside Gavriel’s cabin, and a man’s voice called out for him. Gavriel grabbed Avira by the shoulder.

  “I’m not done with you.”

  He threw her to the ground again and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Avira stood, once again not even feeling a glimmer of pain. If she made it to tomorrow, perhaps she’d have bruises for all this. But not now. Now she had work to do.

  She began pulling at the strings of her gown until the bodice fell from her body and to the floor. Outside the cabin, there was some chaos going on, but Avira chose not to pay attention to that and instead focused every effort on getting the piling skirts off her body. Eventually, she wore only her slip. She reached a hand down to touch her thigh.

  Attached to a lace garter was Mirjana’s knife. It hadn’t shifted at all in the action. Avira pulled the knife out from under her slip and hid it under her armpit. She didn’t want to go face to face with Gavriel again unarmed. Beneath the knife was a small paper package. It was a bit sweaty from being against her skin so much but still good for its intended purpose.

  Avira said a thank you prayer to Aurora and Salicia for Mirjana and Layla. She’d rarely prayed so much, but this felt appropriate. Avira had been too distracted even to consider bringing a weapon with her. Now she had two.

  A crash sounded out on the deck of the ship. She considered going out to see what was happening for a moment, but she chose against it. Instead, she cut a long strip of fabric from her blue gown, which now looked like a dead animal lying on the floor. She tied the strip around her head to keep the hair out of her face.

  She sat down at Gavriel’s writing desk. A map of Shaheen and Alvanii was splayed out across the table. She put her feet up on top of it. And she waited.

  After a few minutes, the door burst open. Gavriel was sweaty and angry. He stormed towards her but paused when he saw what she was wearing. Avira's stomach burned, she almost wanted to vomit thinking about being naked in front of Gavriel. But Gavriel didn’t need to be told twice. He marched to her and pressed his lips to hers so aggressively she was afraid their teeth would bash together. He ran his hand up her thigh as she forced herself to kiss him back.

  Kissing him wasn’t like kissing Matteo. There was no softness. No care or affection. There didn’t need to be.

  Because the next thing Avira did was pull the knife out from under her armpit and slam it as hard as she could into the side of Gavriel’s head. She’d meant to stab him in the eye but wholly missed, slashing off a chunk of his cheek and what looked to be his entire ear instead.

  “That was for Matteo.”

  She spit on him as she stood up, wiping the nervous sweat off her hands. Mirjana’s knife was small but surprisingly sharp. Gavriel threw himself back in pain, wailing like a cat in heat. Avira stood up, briefly considering leaving him like this.

  Gavriel cowered over, holding the side of his head and moaning. She took his hand ever so gently in hers, batting her long dark lashes.

  He moaned, trying to wrestle himself away from her. Acting quickly, she took his hand and laid it open and palmed it on his desk. Then she slammed the knife down on the center of his hand, pinning him to the map, and spilling blood everywhere. For good measure, she ripped open the paper package of harissa pepper and blew it right into his eyes and the bloody wound on his face.

  “But that was for me.”

  She didn’t know how long that would hold him. All she knew was that she needed a head start. She ran, kicking open the door with one foot and hoping that she might get to the glider and escape. She’d get the hang of it eventually, and it was a better option than jumping to her inevitable death. Or she could snag a sword and force the men to free her.

  As she stumbled out into the feigning light of sunset, Avira found herself face to face with Artemis Cascella. He held a long dagger in one hand and one of Gavriel’s men by the hair with the other hand.

  “There you are,” Artemis said with his token grin. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  Artemis threw the man in his hand to the ground and grabbed Avira’s arm. Together they ran to the side of the ship. He clambered up onto the guard rail, lifting Avira with him.

  “What are you doing here?” Avira said, sure, they’d fall.

  “Saving your life,” he shouted as he grabbed her shoulders and hurled them both off the ship’s side.

  Avira didn’t have time to realize she was falling before she landed with a thud on something rugged and sturdy.

  Catching her breath, she looked at Artemis, who was already back on his feet. Avira tried to choke out a question. But all she had to do was look around. Standing all around her were familiar faces—the crew of The Apollo.

  Chapter thirty-four

  Artemis had long since stood and brushed himself off, but Avira was still sitting in her undergarments, staring at the sea of faces. It was eerily silent. She scanned every face she saw, looking for Matteo’s dark eyes or glittering golden nose ring. But he was nowhere to be seen.

  “Where’s Matteo?” she said softly, hoping only Artemis would hear. Artemis turned and have her a look of pure, earnest confusion.

  “How should I know? He went with the queen when you left.”

  “He was my escort up to Golden Boy. Gavriel threw him. You caught him, right?” Avira nodded her head furiously as she spoke, as though she were trying to convince herself that she was correct. She had to be correct. Otherwise Matteo was dead.

  “If he fell he didn’t land here.” Artemis shrugged her off and turned back to his men who still ogled her, eyes wide and heads tilted sideways in confusion.

  “You let Matteo die?” Avira already knew the answer, but she wouldn’t let herself believe it. Not yet. Not until Artemis said the words. “Artemis. Did you let him die?” Avira could hear the roar of tears in the back of her throat. She couldn’t stop herself. An eruption was coming from within her. Artemis’ cool eyes scanned her. He shook his head.

  “Like I said, if he fell, he didn’t land here.”

 

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