Page 92 of Salt in the Seas
Velden’s eyebrows rose. “You think I’m bent on revenge?” He looked away, his gaze going out over the water. “Maybe. But I want that starbridge just as much as you. Maybe more.” He tightened his grip on his pack, readjusting it on his shoulder. “Maybe I can avenge my mother this way, maybe not. But I can at least find her people—my people. I can gain closure on a different part of my past.”
Gaeren and Aeliana exchanged a glance.
“What if you let us do this for you, Velden?” she offered, placing a hand on his arm. “It’s not that I don’t think you can do it, but what Ludo and Barny said…” She trailed off, biting her lip.
“I’ll be fine.” Tight lines formed around Velden’s mouth even though his tone remained light. “That old fool can’t hurt me.”
She shook her head. “You don’t know that.”
“Well, I’m willing to find out.” His lazy grin returned, then, as his gaze flicked between them, it turned wicked. “Besides, it seems like you two are in need of a chaperone.”
The heat in Gaeren’s cheeks rivaled the red in Aeliana’s.
“You should be thanking us instead of teasing,” Aeliana mumbled.
“Is it teasing if it’s true?” Velden turned as the line started moving, leading the way on the ferry and talking over his shoulder. “Three is a good number for this mission anyway.”
“Why three?” Gaeren asked.
Velden glanced back to wink at them. “Oh, let’s be honest, shall we? Any number is a good number if it doesn’t include old Sylmar.”
CHAPTER 35
After a weekof listening to Velden rant about everything he planned to do to Dreyfus, Aeliana was relieved to reach Melford. But the moment they found the docks, Aeliana regretted it. The carnival ship could be spotted a half mile away, its sail boasting a large painted sign reading “Boat of Wonders.” As they drew closer, a young girl called out to onlookers, offering tickets to people wanting entry.
After a heated debate amongst the three of them and listening to far too many renditions of the young girl’s “money-back guarantee” speech, Velden finally handed over coin in exchange for tickets, which he promptly soaked in his anger.
Aeliana and Gaeren exchanged nervous glances. How much of their energy would be spent on keeping Velden in check?
With Velden rumored to be Dreyfus’ next prize, Aeliana had forced him to wear a ridiculous floppy hat and continually reminded him to keep his webbed hands hidden. More than a dozen people milled across the deck, studying the conman’s outrageous wares. Pickled octopus to cure one’s warts, pearl-infused oils to slender one’s waist, kelp perfume to attract a bondmate. Not a single woman besides Aeliana graced the dirty vessel, and a second young street rat had already served far more ale than Aeliana had seen in the taverns the week before. She suspected most of Dreyfus’ displays only looked legitimate if someone had blurry vision.
As the three of them weaved through the makeshift tables, several men leered in her direction, making her starlock heat with the urge to put them in their place. Gaeren seemed to notice too, and he wrapped a possessive arm around her that she didn’t shove away.
“I don’t see it,” Velden grumbled.
“I’m guessing it’s hidden away as some sort of grand finale,” Aeliana said.
The crowd had grown to hold at least thirty men, and the young girl selling tickets slid the plank away from the dock.
“Full capacity! We’ve reached full capacity!” she yelled out to those still on the dock.
Her shouts also served to draw a short man with curly blond hair and tattoos peeking from his collar out from the captain’s quarters. Muscles bulged beneath his thin white shirt and black suspenders, and hatchets and knives lined his belt. The number of weapons was so ridiculous Aeliana almost snorted. Clearly the man had something to prove.
Velden stiffened, and Aeliana leaned over. “Tuck your hands in your pockets.”
He did as she asked, his jaw tightening.
Dreyfus made his way through the crowd with slow, measured steps, his beady eyes taking in the people more than the objects they perused. His barrel chest seemed to swell even larger as he passed people exclaiming over the oddities he’d assorted. When someone stopped him to ask a question, he adopted a salesman smile that didn’t reach his eyes but was full of teeth. He hooked his thumbs in his suspenders and raised his voice for everyone to hear.
“Why, those coins were found in the belly of a fish my fifth year of sailing. You’ll notice the dates go back to before the Great Divide.”
The man questioning him squinted and held the coin closer, then his eyes widened, and he pointed excitedly at the sorry excuse for metal before shoving it under his friend’s nose.
Dreyfus continued down the aisle, doing his best to verify the authenticity of each item on display.
Aeliana watched him pass, checking his hands for signs of a brand or bond. There was neither, but the tattoos on his neck were similar tosome of the secret anti-royalty tattoos Larkos had shown her—enough to make her suspect Dreyfus was a Recreant. She supposed there could be terrible Recreants just like there were some good Zealots.
“What about the Sayhleen hide?” one man shouted.
