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

by Adalyn Grace

  “I’m not sure.” I reach for his hand, pulling him back to me. “Show me again?”

  This time, we don’t stop.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The taste of salt remains on my lips even when Bastian and I eventually make our way back to the deck. The memory of his hands on my waist, fingers curling against me, still burns my skin.

  I feel as though I’ve gotten away with something as I step outside, surprised when I’m met by icy, frigid air.

  I hug my arms around myself, contemplating sneaking back down for my coat.

  “We’re close,” Bastian says, scanning the horizon. His muscles tense.

  Ferrick and Vataea have made themselves comfortable on the deck. They’ve a small pile of food between their too-close bodies, and there’s a confident spark in the mermaid’s eyes. It doesn’t look like Bastian and I were the only ones getting a little friendlier.

  Ferrick clears his throat and stands as Bastian and I approach, as if to distance himself from Vataea. “So how do we do this?”

  “We need to keep a low profile,” Bastian responds immediately. “We don’t want to tip them off. I’ll anchor Keel Haul farther from the island and we’ll take the dinghy. I’m hoping the fog can keep us covered. Vataea?”

  “Yes, Captain?” she asks, voice playful.

  “You’ll have to go ahead of us, to show us a safe path. If you can, stick to the southern edge of the island; we’ll be safer there.”

  This far south, the water is surely too cold for the average human, but Vataea doesn’t hesitate. It’s clear she’s missed the ocean by how quickly she moves to the edge and throws herself into the sea. I imagine it has to hurt, but when I look overboard, the shimmering rose-gold tip of her tail fin disappears beneath the surface. All that’s left is a small pool of iridescent gold that mixes with the murky water and eventually disappears.

  Behind me, Bastian clears his throat. “You know, I rather like being called ‘Captain.’ I think I should make it my mandatory title. Like how we call Amora ‘Princess.’”

  Ferrick’s brows arch as a bemused grin sets upon his lips. “Good luck getting that to catch on.” He clasps Bastian on the shoulder as he passes, moving to join me on the edge of the starboard side. His eyes rove the dark water, looking for any sign of Vataea. But she’s nowhere in sight. He taps an obsessive rhythm against the wood. His fingers still as the water moves.

  Vataea appears as if out of nowhere, nearly gagging in the middle of the sea.

  “This water is disgusting!” she snarls, glaring down at the sea with distaste. “It’s all dead fish and algae, and I keep getting fish scales on my lips!”

  “Can you feel the curse?” Bastian presses, which makes Vataea huff in annoyance.

  “It’s still ahead. But the farther I go, the worse it’s getting.” Her lips sour into a grimace. “You owe me for this, pirate.” Begrudgingly, she lowers herself back into the dark green tides. It’s difficult to keep track of her, but every so often she lifts her fin from the water and gently slaps it down, creating a path for Keel Haul.

  The ship no longer moves hesitantly. It’s lithe and eager, readily altering its course toward the south. There’s little wind in the stagnant air, but still it presses forward as quickly as possible.

  Bastian moves to stand at the foremost point of the ship. He grips the ledge so tightly the muscles in his arm bulge and contract. It’s him who’s spurring the ship forward. There’s a readiness in his set jaw and determined grip.

  He looks like a man eager to take on the world.

  Vataea leads us to a small cavern formed by jagged, weatherworn rocks. The area’s shrouded by the same thick fog that makes it difficult to see any more than three hundred feet before us. It should hide Keel Haul perfectly.

  I step toward the helm as we ready to drop anchor. It’s smooth against my palms.

  Being here reminds me of the last time I sailed The Duchess with Father, and the memory fills me with longing.

  I miss him. I miss Father, Mother, and all of Arida. I wonder what happened after I left. I imagine Yuriel already mourning his loss, while Aunt Kalea packs her bags to move to Arida. I imagine my parents yelling at the Visidian soldiers to hurry and find me. Father’s forehead would be creased, like it is when he’s worried. Mother would be sunk in her chair, picking at the skin of her nails while he paces around her.

  The thoughts bring an unexpected rush of anger. Before I see them again, I have to fix Father’s mistakes.

  I cannot fail in Zudoh.

  Worry plagues my lungs, constricting each breath until it’s as though I’m back in the sea with the Lusca, choking on water. I press my hand to my new blade, then to my satchel, and steel myself.

  A gentle hand rests on my shoulder. At first my memory fools me, tricking me into believing it’s Father. But when I turn, Bastian stands in his place.

  He stands close, taking my hands in his and repositioning them on the helm.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, running my nails over the smooth wood. I want it to feel rougher. Worn in. He only uses it for show.

  But even so, desire warms my palms and spreads welcome heat up into my chest. The plummeting temperature is now nothing more than an annoyance.

  “You’re going to sail us into that cavern.” He points ahead. The rocks look bigger than they did earlier—looming and vicious, with jagged points threatening to tear into the wood of a poorly steered ship.

  “Perhaps we should try in an area that’s more open?” I start to pull away, but Bastian blocks me.

  “I trust you.” His words burn my skin with tiny prickles of heat. “You know what this ship means to me, and I trust you to sail it. Perhaps you should trust yourself, too.” He’s challenging. Confident. “I’m going to let Keel Haul out of my control, just for now. If anything starts to go wrong, I’ll jump back in. There’s no better ship for you to practice sailing on, Princess.”

  He removes his hands from mine and steps back, putting enough distance between us that it doesn’t feel like he’s hovering.

  I lift my eyes to the horizon. The rocks feel both impossibly close and strangely far. My breath hitches in my throat, but when I look back at Bastian, he’s smiling. Even Ferrick’s watching, a small grin on his lips.

  “Tighten your grip, but never doubt your gut instinct,” Bastian whispers, nodding for me to turn back around. “The key to being a good captain is to always trust yourself.”

  I stretch my lungs with fog and breathe as my grip tightens on the helm. I turn it to the left, ever so slightly, and Keel Haul obeys. It’s not pulling the other way, or struggling against me. The ship doesn’t laugh at my commands. It searches for a leader and listens, respectful.

  I press my fingertips against the wood, falling into the moment. The world is black in my periphery. All I see is the crest-shaped cavern, the impending danger, and Keel Haul.

  The world moves quicker. I twist my grip on the helm to redirect the ship. It obeys with a satisfying groan; the sails catch the whisper of a breeze and bend to my whim. My heart races as we approach, and under my breath I repeat a steady stream of prayers that lasts until the ship rattles, slowing as we sail along the middle of the cavern’s pass.

  Breathless, I spin to Bastian, whose ridiculous smile mirrors my own. He’s already stopped the ship, but he steadies its place by dropping anchor.

  My hands shake against the helm as I stare at the cavern. Pride has made a home for itself in my swelling chest. It snatches my breath and flusters my already quick heart. The rocks no longer look jagged; they’re smoothed by the sea. Perhaps I’ve been played by a trick of the light? Or was I so worried, I imagined the threat was greater than it was?

  “So what do you think of sailing?” Bastian asks smugly.

  I smack him lightly on the shoulder, then fall in to hug him tight, laughing because I can’t find my breath and words don’t satiate me. Nothing I say will do justice to the overwhelming pleasure swirling inside me. There are n
o words for the satisfaction of the sea’s salt on my face and the brine in my lungs.

  Bastian knows. He doesn’t need words, because he knows the feeling well. I recognize it in his lopsided smile.

  We’ve shared an experience only a few people will understand, and it’s marked our souls. The sea is a beast more fearsome than even the Lusca.

  But we don’t need to rule it. We need only for it to trust us. Work with us. Be partners.

  I’ve finally been accepted.

  But the moment doesn’t last long.

  “Don’t go any closer!” Vataea bolts out of the water with a gasp, grabbing hold of the cavern rocks to steady herself. Her entire body quivers, eyes glazed over as if sick. I rush to the ledge, ready to toss the ladder down for her.

  “What happened?” Ferrick asks as he rushes to my side. “What’s wrong?”

  It takes Vataea a moment to catch her breath, and though she manages to steady herself, the shaking never quite stops. “This isn’t a curse. Beyond this cavern is a plague.” She clings to the rocks as though they’re the only thing that can save her. I glance back at Bastian, whose jaw tightens as he glares out at the water.

  Our moment of reprieve is already a distant memory.

  “Can we navigate through it?” I ask, receiving a sharp snort from Vataea in response.

  “Not a chance. This is stronger than anything I’ve felt before.”

  The wind and excitement that filled me only moments ago is knocked swiftly away. We’ve no time to turn around and reassess our options. It’s now or never.

  Zudoh’s a smudge in the distance as I sink into the railing, mind reeling. There’s no way we can give up now. Not when we’ve come this far. The air here is cold, clinging to the start of autumn. Any day now, Aunt Kalea will be asked to accept soul magic. If she admits the truth, she’ll be executed for the treason of learning enchantment magic. But if she lies to protect herself, she’ll die from dual magics, and the beast will let loose its vengeance on all of Visidia. I have to make it back to Arida before either of those things happens.

  Vataea’s managed to steady herself, and with her mouth set in a firm line of determination, she sinks fully back into the water. I straighten as she disappears, and the boys tense as if they’re worried she’ll vanish completely.

  But I know better. I don’t worry when she’s gone for a full minute, nor five.

  There’s a flash of her fin the moment before she emerges back at the cavern rocks, her eyes slit. Fierce.

  “We can’t get through the barrier.” She sinks her nails into the rocks like claws. When she peers up at us, her grin is bright and sharp. “But we can go under it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Are you sure this will work?” I linger at the end of Keel Haul’s rope, waiting to drop into the water with the others. We’ve hidden the ship behind the crest of the cavern, shrouded by the thick layer of gray fog that looks every bit as ominous as our situation feels.

  Ferrick wears a deep frown of unease. “To think that this is truly how I’m living my life.” He sighs, brushing a wet hand through his waves and flattening the hair down to his scalp.

  “Most men would die for this opportunity.” Vataea lifts a defiant chin into the air.

  Ferrick’s snort is mixed with a sharp, nervous laugh. “Most men do die for this opportunity.”

  Vataea’s lips pucker thoughtfully, but my breathing shallows when she doesn’t disagree. She dismisses our concerns with a flourish of her hand. “It will work if we hurry. Mermaids have been bringing humans into the water with us for centuries.”

  “Aye, to kill them,” Bastian mutters, though Vataea pretends not to hear.

  Though allowing Vataea to use magic on us is more than a little disconcerting, we’re out of options.

  I push off the ropes, hot with adrenaline that promptly freezes as I sink into water cold as ice. I nearly choke on it as I fight the urge not to bolt back onto the ship, gasping for breath. Both Bastian and Ferrick reach out to help drag me closer to them as they cling on to the slick rocks of the cavern to stay afloat.

  If the surface is already this cold, then by Cato’s blood, I can only imagine what it’ll be like to dive.

  “How deep do we have to go?” I ask between chattering teeth, clamping down on the inside of my cheek to steady them.

  “Deep,” Vataea admits. “The border of the curse is close, and it runs deep. We need to make sure we get a safe enough distance under it, so stick close to me. There should be a break in the curse at the start of the shore, where it was probably cast. But we won’t have much time to reach it.”

  Bastian grimaces, no doubt thinking the same thing I am—even swimming as fast as we can, there’s no guarantee we’ll reach the shore in time.

  “There’s truly no other option? No other sea magic you could try?” I ask, to which Vataea only shakes her head.

  “Nothing I’m strong enough to currently use. If at any point I sense a break, I’ll take you up and give you more air. But otherwise we’ll have to keep moving.”

  Ferrick wrinkles his nose. “And what happens if we have to surface before we reach the shore?”

  It’s Bastian who responds, squinting down at the murky tides. “You’ll be caught in the curse, and I can’t imagine any of us will be able to save you.”

  Memories of my prior experience with curse magic bring a fresh round of shivers. The bugs swarming all over me hadn’t felt imagined. If Bastian hadn’t been there to talk me out of it, I’ve no idea how long I would have stood there, limbs numb and mind paralyzed by fear.

  Bastian’s words are nothing but a kind way to say that, should that happen to us in the middle of the ocean, we’ll drown.

  “Then that’s that.” I force my body to steady so I can look at least moderately confident with our plan. “There’s no reason to stay here debating it. We should keep moving.”

  “We should,” Vataea echoes. “All you have to do is remember to hold your breath to sink. When we’re at a safe level, start breathing normally and you’ll stabilize. Is everyone ready?” She goes to take hold of my shoulder, but Ferrick moves between us.

  “I’ll go first,” he says, leaving no room for challenge. “Just to make sure it’s safe.”

  Though Vataea rolls her eyes, she doesn’t hesitate. She grips Ferrick tightly by the shoulder and presses her lips to his. She breathes air into his lungs as they kiss, dipping lower and lower into the water, dragging him below the surface.

  My stomach cinches when Vataea resurfaces alone.

  “If he comes back up, we’ll have to start over,” she says.

  I catch a flash of red beneath the surface. The water is too murky to see Ferrick fully, but I gasp and slap his hand away when he pokes my hip to prove he’s there.

  “It works,” I huff, shooing Ferrick away. Bastian exhales a quiet sigh of relief.

  “Good. He’ll start sinking soon,” she says. “Time’s against us, we need to hurry.”

  Bastian tries to appear calm when he looks at me, but he’s fighting chattering teeth and worry that creases the corners of his eyes.

  “Guess I’ll see you on the other side,” he says, drawing a breath. “And if not … well, it was a pleasure sailing with you all, and Vataea, try to keep Keel Haul cleaner than your cabin.” He offers himself to the mermaid, nerves tensing his jaw. She peeks at me from over his shoulder, hesitating for a moment, but I offer a gentle nod.

  Even so, I’m alarmed by the sharp pang that rattles me when her lips press against Bastian’s. It’s a vicious thing, surprising me so fiercely I turn away. The jealousy that eats at me is far stronger than I ever expected. Their kiss isn’t one of pleasure; it’s necessity. I know this.

  But gods, I never anticipated how much I would hate it.

  Fortunately, Vataea is quick about it. When she resurfaces before me, she takes hold of both my shoulders and eases me from the safety of the cavern. I draw a sharp breath at the coolness of her fingers on my neck.


  “Relax,” she urges, loosening her grip. “The more relaxed your breaths, the longer you’ll last down there.”

  I nod, and she doesn’t give me even a second longer to prepare before her lips are on mine. They’re sea soaked and a little gritty from the salt, but somehow still impossibly soft. I’m dizzy as she keeps them pressed against mine, submerging us beneath the water before I can gather my senses.

  No longer is my body cold; it floods with warmth, like she’s somehow breathed life into me.

  I hold my breath, keeping my eyes clamped shut as we sink deeper and deeper into the water. Only when her hands lift from my shoulders do I breathe, steadying myself. And though it stings a little, I open my eyes to find the murky water is much clearer than it should be. Alarmingly so. Vataea didn’t just give us breath—she gave us a glimpse of what it’s like to live in her world.

  It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before. Far below me, fluorescent green eels conceal themselves between jagged rocks, waiting to strike. Small schools of strange flat fish swim in the distance, traveling east of us. Something monstrous in size lurks in the shadows deep within the darkest depths of the sea, and I know in my gut not to venture anywhere near it. The Lusca isn’t the only monster in these waters.

  Though the colors of these creatures are sharper and their outlines clearer, I don’t only see them—I feel them, as though I were the ocean itself.

  I whirl to Vataea, who stretches her hand out to me. A knowing smile plays on her lips, like she understands exactly the awe I’m feeling. I have to wonder if this is what she felt when she stepped onto land for the first time—a sense of otherworldliness. A sudden understanding that there’s so much more out there than we ever could have realized.

  I take her hand as she pulls me along, knowing there’s no time to be distracted, but wishing we had all the time in the world to simply explore.

  Vataea is three times as fast as the rest of us. I swim as quickly as I can, following behind her, but by the furrow of her brows and the twitchy annoyance of her fin, it’s clear we’re not moving as fast as she would like. With every smack of her fin against the water, she spurs at least four feet ahead while the rest of us struggle with each foot.