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

by Adalyn Grace

  “Welcome aboard Keel Haul,” he says. “Would you mind sharing a bit about yourself? Age? Where you’re from? Why you didn’t change the tides so we could get away from Kerost without having to kill a man?”

  “Back off,” I growl, dragging myself to sit up. “There’s a difference between murdering for fun and protecting yourself or others, and you don’t get to talk to her like that. The only reason we got off that beach alive is because of her.”

  Bastian’s lips press together in a grimace. It’s clear he’s still angry as he pushes up his sleeves and jerks the sails free from their binds, letting the wind bloat them. In his gut, however, I hope he knows he’s wrong. I don’t want to be thought of as a soulless killer, and I doubt Vataea does either, despite her words when she got out of the water. The mermaid wraps my cape around herself tightly, not shrinking back as she stares at Bastian.

  “Mermaids are supposed to have an arsenal of songs,” Bastian argues. “She could have made the ocean protect us, or altered the tides to move us quicker. Or, I don’t know, summoned a giant whale to knock everyone away! The point is that we could have been long gone by now.”

  “Perhaps you should have used your magic,” I snort. “Oh, wait, you don’t have any.”

  Vataea breaks her glare only when Ferrick walks out of the cabin and offers her a small armful of clothing. He’s been so quiet I hadn’t noticed he left.

  Vataea takes the pile with a grateful nod and shimmies into a pair of oversize pants beneath the cape. I make a mental note to gather some of my clothes for her, too. She’s taller and slimmer than I am, but they’ll fit better.

  “The sea is a fickle beast,” Vataea announces as she buttons the pants. “Anyone can enchant a man who does not think with his head. Calling upon the sea, however, is a skill that few can master. Besides, I was hungry.”

  I nearly snort again, but now isn’t the time. Bastian slams his fist against the edge of Keel Haul and the ship groans in protest. Only then does he look partially apologetic.

  “Great,” he growls. “We came all this way for a mermaid, just to get one that’s defective. We don’t have the time for this.”

  Vataea’s eyes narrow to dangerous slits, but she’s not the one who acts first. It’s Ferrick who steps forward, thrusting an open palm into Bastian’s shoulder. The pirate blinks down at where Ferrick hit him. It takes a moment longer for his anger to set in with a sneer.

  “What’s your problem?”

  “What’s your problem?” Ferrick snarls. “Last I checked, you can’t do anything on your own. You’re a useless pirate who has to borrow magic because, somehow, you were stupid enough to lose your own.”

  Bastian’s hand flies to the pommel of his sword. “Say that again.”

  Ferrick laughs. It’s a dark sound, unnatural for him. “We’re useless without these girls. Vataea’s magic saved us. You don’t get to call her defective after she’s been made a prisoner for gods knows how long. Apologize.”

  Vataea looks at Ferrick as if seeing him for the first time. I understand, because it’s the same for me. I’ve never seen him so riled up.

  Bastian has no immediate response. The tense muscles of his arms flex as he loosens his grip on his pommel but doesn’t release it. He won’t draw his blade; I can tell by the way he holds himself. Back in Vice he stood like a coiled snake, ready to spring with a moment’s notice. Now, his body is awkward, looking for something to do. He opens his mouth to speak, clamps it shut, then furrows his brows and tries again.

  “I’m sorry I called you defective.” The words are tight in his throat. “I didn’t mean it. I’m just stressed; we can’t afford to make a mistake right now. We need someone who can sense Zudian magic. If we try to charge ahead only to discover you’re unable to do the job we need done, the three of us are as good as dead.”

  “My connection to the sea may be weak, but that doesn’t make me weak,” Vataea says. For the most part her features are relaxed and unbothered, but I think back to the blood on her lips and wonder how long this girl can hold a grudge. “I’m able to sense your silly curses, pirate. In fact, I can sense one right now.” She lifts her chin, and Bastian practically withers beneath her glare. His fists clench tight at his sides.

  “There’s a curse nearby?” I ask. Vataea dips her attention to me with a vicious grin.

  “Yes, but it won’t affect us.” She turns back to Bastian. “I could have left, you know. I could’ve kept my fins and continued swimming. But I struck a deal with you, and mermaids are honorable. We pay our debts and keep our deals. That is, unless you no longer want my help?”

  Bastian draws in his bottom lip and bites down on it with a sigh.

  “Ferrick’s right,” he admits. “I have no magic, but the three of you do. It was foolish of me to imply that you were somehow weak when you’re the one we all need the most. I’ve no intention of backing out of our deal, Vataea.”

  I let the apology sit for a moment, digesting it. Vataea needs far less time. Her lips curl into a coy smirk.

  “Then I’ll stay. Though rest assured, it’s not for you.” Only when her eyes catch Ferrick’s do they brighten. She places a hand on his chest. “Though you don’t seem quite so bad. Perhaps you’ll be spared.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Ferrick asks, a tinge of worry in his voice.

  “I’ve a collection of men who I intend to repay for how generous they were to me.” Vataea’s smile gleams wicked. “Dismemberment for anyone who ever tried to touch me. The tongue flayed from those with wicked mouths. And the hearts eaten from any man who’s ever told me to smile.”

  Ferrick goes deathly still. The only noise on the ship is that of the fluttering sails, and the lapping of the waves that grow fiercer as we shift our direction to the southeast. After what feels like one incredibly long and awkward moment, Ferrick gently takes hold of Vataea’s hand and eases it away from him. “I’m flattered, but I’m afraid I’m already spoken for. Or so I thought.”

  The words grind into me like a rusted knife. That’s not fair; I never asked to be engaged to Ferrick.

  “It was only a kiss,” I say. “The two of you were going to drown if I didn’t do something. That was the only way to pull you both from the trance.”

  “It was the quickest way,” Vataea corrects me.

  “Only a kiss.” Ferrick’s face twists as he sneers. “Right. When you kissed both of us, it was only a kiss. We’re engaged, Amora! I didn’t ask for this, either. But by the gods, the least you can do is try to act like I don’t physically repulse you.”

  I draw a step back.

  “I used to think you were too good for me,” Ferrick whispers, shaking his head. “But you’re the most naive, materialistic person I’ve ever known. You think you’re so clever. Born to be the greatest animancer there ever was, or whatever. But maybe you’re not what the kingdom needs at all, and perhaps you never will be. Get over yourself.”

  My chest constricts, though I’ve no idea whether it’s from anger or hurt. Who does he think he is? He doesn’t know the truth—that I’m the only one. That without me convincing my people to grant me another chance, Visidia will eventually fall.

  Aunt Kalea can’t accept soul magic. It will kill her. And then what? Who else is there to take on the Montara magic, and keep the beast within us at bay? Father won’t live forever, and someone needs to be ready to take his place.

  “We did what had to be done, end of story.” Bastian steps between Ferrick and me. “If you want to throw yourself a pity party, do it somewhere else. We’ve more important things to take care of.”

  “No, you have more important things to take care of.” Ferrick closes the space between himself and the pirate. “The only reason I came here is to help Amora, my fiancée. But if you want to take that task over then be my—”

  The tension in my chest snaps. I step in front of Ferrick and shove him away from Bastian.

  “Enough,” I say. My words are fierce, but controlled. “I’ve had en
ough. Think whatever you want of me, Ferrick. You’re angry because you think I owe you something, but I don’t. I’ve had too many people controlling my life to add someone new to the picture.”

  I don’t stop when his spine straightens and his chin dips, brows furrowing into a glare. Instead, I push forward. “When our parents arranged for us to be married, it wasn’t by my choice. You’re possessive! You act like you own me, yet we’re only connected by politics and magic. And don’t forget that I outrank you, so don’t you dare talk to me like I’m some foolish child. Believe me, I know Visidia deserves the best, and I’m trying my hardest to be that for them.” I jab my hand into his chest again, and Ferrick stumbles back.

  “I’ll never love you.” The words are harsh, but he needs to hear them. “Not like that. Not in the way you want. Stop acting like this is something that will change, or that I owe you a chance. I owe you nothing.”

  I don’t need words to understand what’s in Ferrick’s eyes. Anger, hurt, betrayal. It’s all there.

  “Do you really think I want to spend the rest of my life with someone I know will never love me?” he asks quietly. “I never asked for this; I deserve happiness as much as you do. But this is what’s happening, and unlike you, I’m at least trying to make the most of it.”

  The fluttering of the sails all but stops, betraying me with its silence.

  I force myself to look away and try to fend off the guilt that sinks its teeth into me, devouring my pride.

  Ferrick brushes past me, heading straight into the cabins.

  I storm the opposite direction with a hiss of curses beneath my breath, clenching the starboard ledge. Bastian follows, quietly watching as I try to steady my anger.

  No matter how hard I try to push away Ferrick’s words, they sink into my gut. Maybe you’re not what the kingdom needs. But what does he know, anyway? Once we get to Zudoh, I’ll stop Kaven and find a way to introduce Zudoh back into the kingdom, and enlist all the islands to help Kerost. Our economy will thrive. More ships will be produced with Zudian wood. More homes. Trade between them and their closest neighboring island will boost Kerost’s economy significantly.

  I was led here on this journey for a reason, and Ferrick’s words won’t stop me from believing that.

  But even so, knowing what I must do, I can’t help but think of the stories whispered at night about Zudoh, or the way we were hushed for even saying the island’s name.

  “How long has it been since you were in Zudoh, Bastian?” I ask, my voice tightening.

  “I’ve been living on Keel Haul since I was ten.” He clips his words short and bounces on antsy feet.

  “And you’ve never thought to go back before?”

  His eyes are on the sea, knuckles white as he grips the edge of Keel Haul. Though there’s a slight breeze, the ship moves slowly in the still water, probably as hesitant to move forward with this mission as the rest of us. After a long moment of silence, he pushes away from the ledge and walks past us, stopping only when he’s at the stairs that lead down to his quarters.

  “It’s been a long day, and we’re all tired,” he murmurs, voice hardly louder than the wind. I want to argue, but the look on his face stops me. I recognize the pain he wears; it’s enough to dry my throat into silence. “Try to have a good night.” Bastian descends the steps and leaves Vataea and me on deck. When I make no motion to follow, Vataea turns to me, head tilted.

  “You said you sensed a curse when you stepped aboard this ship,” I whisper. “What exactly were you referring to?”

  “I sensed three, actually, if you want to count the one in your boot.” She smiles, teeth pearly white. I only notice how sharp they are when they catch the glow of the moon. “But they’re nothing to worry about right now.” She takes my hand and gently draws me toward the cabins. “Now show me where I’m to sleep, will you?”

  She doesn’t seem to notice how numb my body is or how quick my breaths come.

  Bastian’s magic’s somehow been cursed away; that one’s a given. Then there’s the cursed necklace I’ve stuffed into my boot.

  But as I stumble into the cabins behind Vataea, I can’t help but wonder—what’s the third curse?

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  My head hits the pillow, but every time I shut my eyes, I can’t help thinking that Keel Haul is too still.

  She pushes forward with the same anxiousness that eats at my nerves. And if she’s afraid of our destination, then perhaps I should be, too. There may be people looking for me on every island, but Zudoh has been banished from Visidia for eleven years, left to wither and rot in its own time. No one will ever think to look there for a lost princess. If something happens to me, my people will never know my fate.

  But I have to wonder, did Father truly keep me from these other islands because he worried for my safety? Did he keep me on Arida so I’d have more time to learn how to control my magic, and keep myself out of the very mess I’m now in? Or is it possible that there’s more to it?

  What could Father be hiding?

  I’m tired of scraping for answers. Anxiety crawls at my skin, and the cabin is suddenly small and suffocating. Gods, I need air.

  I push myself from the hammock and tug on my boots and cloak before climbing the stairs to the deck. The air’s no longer warm with summer heat; there’s a bite to it. It’s one that sinks into my core and casts shivers down my spine.

  One that promises summer won’t last much longer, and reminds me of Aunt Kalea and her enchanted eyes. The fate of Visidia depends on these next few days.

  We can’t stop moving.

  The sky is thick with starlight. It blankets the sea and casts a silver glow along the deck of Keel Haul, painting the ship bright. The main sail acts as its own moon, full and luminous as it pushes forward into the black sea.

  There’s a quiet rustle of clothing flapping in the wind, and I turn to find I’m not alone. Vataea sits cross-legged near Keel Haul’s barnacle-covered, serpentine figurehead, tempting her fate by how dangerously close she sits to the water. Her body is still as I approach, but I know she’s aware of my presence because she doesn’t flinch when I take a seat behind her, closer to the railing.

  “Do you mind if I join you?”

  Vataea shakes her head. “Please do. It’s been ages since I’ve had another woman to talk to.”

  I cross my legs as well, wishing I were daring enough to move closer to her. She has a perfect view of the water, but one strong wave and she’ll be in the sea.

  “I’ve missed the ocean,” Vataea offers without prompting. She leans forward and draws a long breath of briny air. “It’s good to be back.”

  I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. I’m used to giving commands, not support. I know what it’s like to have things bottled up inside and feel the need to share them with someone, but I’ve usually only complained to Mira, or kept problems to myself. It’s foreign to be on this side of things. Hesitantly, I set my hand upon Vataea’s shoulder and squeeze it gently, just once, as Father does. It’s all I know to offer.

  “How long were you kept in Kerost?”

  Vataea’s laugh is as soft as the ship’s quietness calls for, but it’s spine-chilling. “About two seasons. And before that, a year on Curmana. Blarthe is a traveler; he goes wherever he has the most to gain. For nearly two years he’s kept me with him, far from water. He used me as a way to lure customers into whatever temporary shop he opened up. One man even tried to pay for a night with me, once—fifty years. But when I tore out his eyes and bit off his cheek, Blarthe started keeping me tucked away. I was his trophy after that—something to show off when he needed the boost. A prize he felt he’d won by capturing me.”

  My chest seizes. Two years is a long time to be trapped anywhere—let alone with that monstrous man. I can’t begin to imagine the things she must have suffered through. I wonder, what might someone’s soul look like after that sort of experience?

  Soul reading is the innocent part of my magic, effortless and al
ways eager to be put to use without repercussion. And though me sneaking a peek would go unnoticed by her, the idea of looking into Vataea’s soul curdles my stomach. She’s only just escaped Blarthe; the least I can do is give her the privacy I doubt she’s had in some time.

  “Do you intend to return to the sea, then?” I ask, unable to imagine wanting to go anywhere other than home if I were in her position. And yet Vataea shakes her head.

  “I’ve no intention to return there any time soon,” she answers. “For centuries my kind have been hunted, and now hardly any of us remain. No matter what we may want for ourselves, there’s a pressure to repopulate.” Her forehead scrunches ever so slightly as she says this, as if recalling memories.

  “I understand the need for children,” she admits. “We need to ensure mermaids continue to exist for centuries to come. But that’s not the life I want for myself. What I want is to see what it might be like to live on land. Mermaids are able to have legs, so why shouldn’t I use them?” Though Vataea playfully wriggles her toes, the small smile on her lips is a sad one.

  “After your father passed laws to help protect my kind, there was a push for many of us to go ashore and conceive a child before we returned to the water,” she continues. “But when I left, I had no immediate plans to return. I’ve wanted to see what you humans are like for ages. I want to spend time on your islands, trying your food and seeing everything that land has to offer. I’d like to feel the sun on my skin for more than a few minutes at a time. Explore my new body. I enjoy being with women, but I’ve also wondered what it might be like to be with a man.” She brushes a hand over her thigh, as if still fascinated by the skin there, and then sighs. “Unfortunately, I lasted no more than a week before I was taken, so there’s still so much out there for me to see. I’d like to experience it all.”

  Vataea’s spirit is one of adventure. She wants to explore the world. To see all it has to offer her. If there’s anything I understand, it’s this desire that she and I share.

  Shame weighs my shoulders, though she deserves better than me shrinking back from her truth. Was my kingdom truly so damaged that Vataea couldn’t travel for longer than a week before being poached? Even despite the laws Father has put in place?