All the Stars and Teeth (All the Stars and Teeth Duology)

by Adalyn Grace

  Ferrick thrusts with his rapier, but Bastian parries it without looking. Show-off.

  The clanging of steel bounces off the deck before the ocean devours the sound. The sea is less gentle than it was this morning. It’s angry at the ship disturbing it, rocking it fiercely as we venture out of the shallow waters.

  Bastian wields his sword as though it’s an extension of his own body, unrivaled by a swaying, seasick Ferrick. He moves effortlessly, stepping with the to-and-fro sway of the waves. I’ve no doubt he’s a practiced pirate. His tongue and wit are as sharp as the blade in his hand. He’s been doing this for many years, but I’ve never heard any stories of a pirate who sailed the seas without a crew.

  “Ever lost an arm in a duel, mate?” Bastian asks as he effortlessly weaves around Ferrick’s next strike. There’s no time to consider his words before he half jumps forward and brings his sword down on his opponent. The sound of Ferrick’s surprised yelp fills the sky. His rapier clatters to the ground, and his right hand thumps down alongside it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “By the gods!” Ferrick peers down at his hand with more annoyance than pain, and Bastian looks at the blood that now coats the deck of his ship in the same way. “Was that really necessary?”

  Drawing a handkerchief from his coat pocket, Bastian wipes the blood meticulously from his sword. Once it’s sheathed, he steps forward to examine Ferrick’s severed hand, cut just below the elbow.

  His blood is already congealing. New skin grows around the wound, forming a small nub of flesh and muscle. When Bastian pokes at it, Ferrick jerks back.

  “What in the stars?” my soon-to-be fiancé growls. Weaponless and with one arm rendered useless, he’s still trying to feign toughness. Though I’m used to his magic, it’s always alarming to see how little pain he feels.

  I stare openmouthed at the arm, embarrassment for the Suntosan sinking my gut. To be fair, he was the one who challenged Bastian, but no one should have to lose so decidedly.

  “That was a cheap shot,” I say.

  “Relax, Princess. I knew it wouldn’t hurt him. He scraped his hands climbing Keel Haul; I saw the wounds healing.” The look Bastian flashes me is nothing more than a brief roll of the eyes, unwilling to yield from his absolute delight. Much to Ferrick’s dismay, the pirate closes the space between them once again and prods at the redeveloping ligaments. “How marvelous are you Suntosans! I’ve always heard restoration magic is impressive, but people who can regenerate themselves and heal others? I had to see it with my own eyes.”

  “Glad to help with your fantasies,” Ferrick huffs bitterly. “I should never have expected a fair sword fight from a pirate.” He says the word like it’s poison on his tongue, but even in the faint glow of moonlight, the flush on Ferrick’s pale cheeks is clear. I know I should feel bad for him, but every second I’m forced to spend with him, knowing we’re to be forever tied, my frustration grows.

  It’s unfortunate our magics are so well suited. If I need a tooth, I can take one of Ferrick’s. If I need an arm, he has plenty to spare. He’s a rare breed of Suntosan; whereas most only have the ability to regenerate or heal others, he’s mastered both skills. With Ferrick at my side, I would be the strongest animancer that Arida has ever seen.

  “Enough bickering. Swords down, boys.” Both turn to look at me.

  “Don’t engage with him, Amora.” Ferrick’s face is pinched and angry as he glares down at his arm. “Blasted pirate, take us back to Arida this instant.”

  Bastian ignores him by stepping closer to me, and I notice for the first time how tall he is. Confident, too, but a fool. When he takes another step forward, I unsheathe my dagger and press its point against his chest. Bastian’s smile fizzles away at once, and he sours his lips in offense.

  “Really? Again?” He lifts his hands into the air. Beside me, Ferrick exhales a relieved breath.

  I press the blade against his skin, enough for the steel to bite. “You’ve given me enough information, already; I can figure out the rest on my own. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t toss you overboard and make the journey myself.”

  To my surprise, Bastian laughs. Though he stops short when it makes the dagger press deeper into his chest. “So this is the thanks I get for helping you out? Stars, I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be so charming. Throw me overboard if you’d like, but as you’ve noticed, I don’t exactly have much of a crew for you to command. Throw me off, and you’ll lose your ship. Besides, you’re no captain. You wouldn’t even know how to navigate.”

  “Zudoh’s straight south,” I argue, but Bastian only bats his eyes and smiles.

  “It sure is. But I’m afraid it’s a little more complicated than that, love.”

  I press the blade forward until I feel his muscles flex beneath it. “And why’s that?”

  Though he tries to maintain his easy smile, his jaw tenses. “If this is what I get for sharing information freely, then I suppose you’ll have to keep me aboard to find out.”

  I sheathe my dagger, never having intended to actually stab him. It’s just good form to ensure he knows who’s in charge.

  “Amora, I really think we should reconsider this strategy—”

  I cut Ferrick off swiftly. “There is no we here. I’m not holding council.”

  Bastian brushes his chest off as though I’ve dirtied his coat with my blade. “Then I take it you’re still in?” The sea tries to steal his whisper but I latch onto it tightly. Warmth replaces the coolness in my body as a strange, enigmatic tension electrifies my skin and fills the space between us as I consider those words. The hairs along my arms stand on end.

  And as my heart beats, I know there’s no way for me to say no. I saw Father’s blatant dismissal of Kaven’s threat earlier, and I heard the whispers. I saw Kalea’s shifting eyes myself, and know that she’ll never be able to take on the crown.

  If Visidia’s truly in danger, I will not leave its fate to chance. Nor will I leave my own fate up to Father’s persuasion. I’ll take it in my own two hands, and use this as an opportunity.

  I draw in a breath and lift my chin toward Bastian. “I’m in,” I tell him, much to Ferrick’s protest.

  “But they’re forcing Kalea to move to Arida by the end of the summer,” Ferrick argues. “You’d give the throne to her so easily?”

  “Of course not. I know what I’m doing.” I make my voice firm enough that both boys freeze from the harshness of it. My aunt knows the stakes as well as I do; she’ll buy as much time as she can on her end, and I’ll use it to stop Kaven and earn another chance at becoming my people’s animancer.

  “You said they wanted to bring Kalea here by summer’s end? Then that’s when we’ll be back. And on our journey, you’ll explain this ship to me, pirate.” This marvelous ship. My gaze circles around the deck. How is it sailing so effortlessly without a crew? “And you’ll teach me to sail it.”

  Only then does Bastian show frustration. He draws his bottom lip halfway in and bites down on it, gnawing as if ironing out his thoughts.

  “You have to understand, a man views his ship as one might view their child. Letting anyone sail it is … sensitive.”

  Between him and Father both refusing to teach me, I’m sick of excuses. “If you want my help getting your home back, you’ll teach me to sail Keel Haul.”

  He perks up slightly, as if pleased I’ve remembered its name, then bites at the corner of his lip as if to conceal whatever true expression he feels. “Fine, but only after you have a feel for her. Get to know her, take her to dinner. I’ve found ladies don’t respond well when you try to control them.” He pats the ship and it groans beneath his hand, the full sails propelling us farther and farther into the sea.

  I bite back my grin, not wanting Bastian to see. Something tells me he already knows and understands my excitement. His home is the water, and while I love my island and my role in it, part of me envies his freedom. He’s no one but himself to look after; what must that feel like?

 
“Fair enough.” I nod. “Though we do have one more thing to discuss.”

  He already knows. Bastian turns to Ferrick, who draws a defensive step back and readies his rapier. His right arm twitches and stretches a little farther. I try not to stare at the forming flesh, endlessly mystified by the strange magic.

  “I’m not leaving,” he says firmly. “For as long as Amora remains with you, I’ll stay to accompany her. As her fiancé, it’s my sworn duty to protect her.”

  Bastian’s lips twitch upward as he lifts a brow. “Fiancé, huh? Pardon my ignorance, I’ve no idea how I overlooked the gushing chemistry between you two.”

  Ferrick’s chest shakes as he draws in a long breath and stares Bastian down.

  The pirate remains perfectly at ease. “Regardless, you’re another mouth to feed, and are not part of the bargain. Tell me why I shouldn’t drop you off now and let you swim back to Arida.” Every one of Bastian’s words hinges like a question, unabashedly curious. And yet there’s something about his presence that unnerves me. He has the same spark of life—the same knowledge of the world—that Father has. It’s because he’s a voyager. Jealousy pits itself with me, spreading its roots.

  “You know why I should stay.” Ferrick straightens his spine and tries not to glance down at his severed hand. The pirate peers down regardless, and I stoop to pick up the limb, grimacing at the way it hangs limp in my grip. His fingers will make a fine addition to my satchel once I break them off; anything else can be fed to the fish.

  The majority of Ferrick’s body is painlessly disposable; there’s no denying the power I might wield with it. But Ferrick is selling himself short; he’s also an incredibly skilled healer. And if we’re to fight a man who has a following of people who all want me dead, having a healer around might not be the worst idea.

  If he’s to join us, however, I’ve conditions to make clear, first.

  “Stay with me and lend your help,” I tell him. “But should you break my command and act on your own—if you try anything behind my back—consider yourself thrown overboard. This is bigger than you or me, Ferrick.”

  Ferrick’s throat bobs as he swallows. He shares a look with the smug pirate. Bastian happily points to Keel Haul’s plank and walks his fingers in the air while whistling a tune that mimics falling.

  Ferrick’s cheeks burn red when he drops his head in a bow. “As you wish, Princess.”

  A twisted knot in my chest unravels as tension I wasn’t aware existed is drawn from my body. This is happening, then.

  “So it’s settled?” Bastian unfurls himself from where he leans on the main mast. “We have a deal?”

  Ferrick and I share a look, though it’s mostly me silently daring him to disagree. Eventually he nods, and with a smile I extend my hand to Bastian. He accepts it with delight.

  “Welcome to the crew.” His words drench my skin with warmth. I soak them into myself like a sponge and feed them to my hungry, eager soul.

  I am Amora Montara, Princess of Visidia, and I will be the future High Animancer.

  I am the right choice. The only choice. And I will protect my kingdom.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Bastian leads us to the ship’s hull, and though I knew already there were no other souls aboard, I’m still unnerved to see for myself that there truly is no crew. It’s a small ship, but Keel Haul is still a ship, and I’ve never known a ship to sail without a crew.

  Just what did he mean when he said that, without him, the ship would stop sailing? Somehow, magicless though he is, Bastian has a ship that can sail entirely by his sole command. And though I know he won’t tell me how, during our journey together I intend to find out how that is.

  At least the lack of a crew means Ferrick and I each have our own cabin. They’re tiny rooms with only a hammock hanging from the ceiling, but I don’t mind; surrounded by the sea, I can hardly think of sleep.

  “Have you anything for me to wear to bed?” I ask Bastian, who frowns from his position in the doorway.

  “I’m not accustomed to bringing princesses aboard Keel Haul.” He’s hardly apologetic. “Can’t you wear what you have on?”

  I lift a brow. “This is a ceremonial outfit I just killed a man in. So no, I won’t be wearing this to sleep, thank you. And all I have beneath this dress is skin I’d prefer to keep covered, considering I’m on a pirate’s ship.”

  While Ferrick’s pale skin darkens to crimson, Bastian’s expression contorts into feigned horror.

  “Keel Haul may be ferocious, but she is still a lady. I would never dare plague her sensitivity by having you parade around naked.” Bastian says the word as though it sours his tongue, yet amusement twists the undercurrent of his tone. “I’ll find you something suitable for now, and you can grab something more fitting when we reach Ikae. It’s a port town off the coast of Mornute.”

  “I know where it is.” I try to ignore how my stomach flutters with the same eager anticipation I feel when the palace chefs bake fresh ginnada. Of course I haven’t been there, but I know all about that town from Yuriel and Aunt Kalea. Home to the finest jewels and fashion, it’s a tourist town I’ve always wanted to visit. My aunt brings me gowns from there each year, and they’ve quickly become my favorites. The items they produce are lush and wonderful, though it’s not a town known for being affordable.

  I give Bastian the once-over: his scarlet frock coat is impeccable and the fabric thicker than any you can find in Arida. It’s even finer quality than I’d originally thought, with tiny slivers of golden threads stitched around the cuffs. He would have had to pay off a royal tailor to get a coat with golden trim and the royal emblem embossed into the cuff links—that, or he stole the coat. But his tan pants are also hemmed and tailored to perfection, and though he lives on a ship, his scruff is meticulously trimmed and styled. It’s no wonder he managed to pass himself off as an adviser—his aesthetic is commendable. Especially compared to Ferrick, whose emerald blazer, along with his shirt, is far too loose, and his pants too tight. It makes his shape that of an upside-down triangle. He’s dressed like he’s taken his clothing straight from a shipwreck.

  But as much as I’d love to parade around Ikae shopping with Bastian, the late summer air already cools with the threat of the changing season. We’ve only until the end of summer before Aunt Kalea’s to move to Arida and accept soul magic.

  “We shouldn’t waste time,” I say. “Let’s set sail straight to Zudoh.”

  Leaning against the wall, Bastian flourishes a hand, moving it as he talks. “Trust me, Princess, I’d love to do that. But remember when I said that getting to Zudoh wouldn’t be so easy? They erected a barrier around their island when they were banished. We need a way to get around it, first.”

  Beside me, Ferrick frowns. “And we’ll find that in a town known for fashion?”

  “You’d be surprised.” The light in Bastian’s eyes never seems to dim, and his crooked smile is far too bright for a pirate. “Every town has an underbelly. You just need to know where to look. Now, if you’ll excuse me a moment, I’ll be back.”

  The moment he’s gone, I feel Ferrick’s presence as heavy as an anchor. “Do you truly trust him?” he asks.

  I nearly snort. “Of course not. He’s a pirate.” I move around him to exit my cabin, searching the hall for somewhere to clean up, but he follows.

  “Then why do this?” Ferrick presses, his voice an urgent whisper. “There has to be some other way. We can sail back to Arida and tell your father—”

  “I may not trust the pirate, but I never said I didn’t believe him.” I saw Bastian trying to warn others about what was happening, and it was useless. Father thinks that he’s protecting Visidia; if I want to take hold of my fate and protect this kingdom, I have to act against him by going to Zudoh and finding Kaven myself.

  Returning to Arida now, after breaking out of the prison, would be a death sentence. And not just for me. If I can pull this off, no one else will ever know about Aunt Kalea’s betrayal.

 
; I’m forced to sidestep my way through the tight quarters of the ship’s head to reach the single washing basin. Though the age-worn ship creaks with every step, Bastian’s spent time maintaining it. The brilliant white wood shines with fresh lacquer, and the rooms are neatly organized and swept clean, as though the pirate was expecting guests at any time.

  I lower my face toward the basin and scrub my skin clean. The water turns cloudy from rouge and creams as I wash away the memories of the night. Ferrick continues to stand there with a sour face and worry in his eyes all the while. Finally, when I can no longer take his insistent staring, he says, “So much for our engagement, huh?”

  I drop my focus to the basin. “Now’s not the time.”

  “Well, when is the right time? I’ve been trying to talk to you about this for weeks.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about—”

  “There is!” The words are so exasperated that they take me by surprise. My mouth screws shut as his face turns from pale to pink, cheeks flushing. Drawing a deep breath, he says more calmly, “There is. I know neither of us asked for this, but you’ve known how I feel about you for years, Amora. I know I’ve never been more than a passing thought for you, but I truly believe you’re the right heir for Visidia, and I’ll help make that a reality in whatever way I can. Then, once we’re home … I want you to know that I plan to be good to you. I didn’t have the chance to say it before, but I really want you to know that.”

  The concentrated way he looks at me would be enough to make most people shrink back, but I don’t. I can’t tell him I love him, or act like I’m pleased by his words, because he knows how I feel—there will never be anything between us.

  “For now, I need you to focus on the task at hand.” I know it’s not what he wants to hear, but it’s all I can offer. “We need to protect Visidia.”

  His lips press together and he dips his head in a small nod.

  I’m thankful when Bastian’s footsteps fill the hall, sparing us any further awkwardness. He carries pieces of clothing draped meticulously over his arms, taking care not to wrinkle the fabric.