“Kaken, when we are free of the king’s pursuit, where to?”

Mira ignored the question. Frantic, she pushed past the men gathered around her. Halvar. She needed to see him—to feel him—to know for sure he was well.

The man who held her child came near, and Mira ripped the boy from his arms. She pressed her baby into her chest with so much force that he began to cry. She was hurting him, but she could not bring herself to soften her grip.

“Kaken, we must choose a direction.”

The drums beat a smooth, fast rhythm as salty water crashed into the head of the ship. Mira tasted metal. Blood. She watched as the king’s ships shrunk in the distance, trying to find a shred of sense in it all.

One off duty—a man named Finnjer, came to her. “You need stitches,” he said, pointing to her brow.

Mira lifted a hand to her forehead.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, staring at the mixture of new and old blood on her fingers. The new was hers, but the dried flaky blood… that came from the casting stones. Was it Jorn’s blood that was mingling with her own?

“The king’s men asked for Kakyi. Flojer refused.” Finnjer shrugged and guided Mira to sit. He soaked a cloth in wine and brushed it against her forehead.

“Fucking cunt!” shouted one man. “We will not be able to return home.”

“We will.” Another laughed. “Only the visit will be very short. Just enough time for our heads to be removed.”

“It is not funny!”

“It is a little.”

More men began to curse.

“With a child captain…” grumbled one.

“This is not so much a permanent problem,” said another.

Yarlav shouted, “You cannot!”

“Calm yourself, boy; none of us is going to slay a little girl.”

“Speak for yourself….”

Mira was still confused. “But Rowan... and Fyrrah…”

Yarlav knelt near where she sat. “Arik’s men tried to stop us from heading back to the ship.”

He explained that his father’s men, Rowan and Fyrrah as well, had refused to listen, and steel was drawn. Yarlav used a soft, gentle voice—no doubt trying to lessen the blow of his words with his tone. Mira remembered the other bodies she’d seen only after Yarlav said this.

Yarlav had run to fetch her and Fell, as his father told him to do so if anything went wrong. “He said I must make sure you two came back, that Hyrold demanded it of me.” When the boy mentioned his father, fresh tears pooled in his eyes, and he cleared his throat. “Fell and I saw the king’s men boarding The Fearsome Beast. He told me to take you to the sea, back to the ship the moment it was safe to do so. He told me he would speak to Arik.”

It made sense to Mira, but also it did not.

“I only managed half of my father’s order.” Yarlav clenched his jaw and cleared his throat again, swallowing his suffering. “You wish for us to live, Kaken?”

Mira nodded.

“So we will not go North. Is there somewhere you would like us to go?”

Her mind was not working. Unable to grasp a single thought, Mira pushed Finnjer’s hands away and moved to the edge of the ship. The rushing air would help her thoughts somehow. It had to.

Yarlav followed as she strained her mind, hoping for something sensical to form. Anything. He stood close—his axe ready. Mira knew this should bother her, but in her empty state, she could not fathom why. She leaned her face over the edge of the ship, feeling for a moment that she would be sick.

Deep black-blue washed with white foam rushed by.

Where would Halvar be safest? Mira heaved, but nothing came out of her mouth. She took long slow breaths, the way Fyrrah taught her. Fyrrah.

Mira’s first idea was to return to her own country, but the men on board would lose their heads on the Isle too. Halvar, being a bastard and half Northern, would not be welcome either. She knew Arik was planning to go to the Isle, and she wanted Halvar as far away from the man as possible. “Arik will expect me to go to Dayne; we must go somewhere else….”

Hyrold help me. Mira closed her eyes and took in another deep breath. I don’t know of any other places.

The sun came through the clouds with such force that she could see it, even with her eyes closed. The harsh, bright light bounced off the surface of the sea and emptied her mind once more. She lifted a hand to shade her eyes. Still, the glare was intense, and she could think of nothing but the sun for many moments.

Fyrrah’s words leapt into Mira’s mind. You will be told only the smallest piece of the whole. Go to this place. Pay attention. Only if you listen to the first piece will you see the second.

She took a deep breath and remembered the man with the broken nose and the great battle in the sand. And at least one thing made sense.

“South,” she said. “We must go south.”

Yarlav nodded, and the word echoed among the deep voices of the crew.

“South.”

“South.”

“South.”

Mira clutched Halvar tighter to her chest, trying and failing to feel his warmth or smell. Yarlav, who’d been gone for a moment, was back—he spread one of his father’s maps out before her.

“Where in the south, Kaken?”

The map was large but did not contain all the land she’d seen when Arik showed her his map. She pointed to the edge. “To here, but further. Much further.”

“What do we seek there, Kaken?”

“The Sun Worshippers.”

He tilted his head to the side in confusion.

“Arik worships the god of truth,” Mira said. “This means the Sun Worshippers are his sworn enemies.” Halvar will be safe from Arik there.

Yarlav looked up at her, his white brows furrowed, his stone-blue eyes firm and unblinking. He nodded once to Mira and then again to himself.

Finnjer approached—his needle was still dangling from the thread woven into her skin. As his calloused fingers continued their work, Mira remembered the details of the day with more clarity. One moment in particular demanded her attention. Mira had managed to keep the image out of her mind until then, but she could hold it back no longer. She remembered Fell’s form rising up in the water, his face down in the sea.

Still. His body had been horrifically, hauntingly, grotesquely still.

There was no sadness or anger inside her. She knew she should worry about the crew. That one would come to her and end her and make himself captain as soon as they were free of Arik’s pursuit. She knew she should worry about Dayne and the war that was coming to him. She knew she should worry that the Sun Worshippers were long gone, that there would be no one to give them refuge when they arrived. But she didn’t. The day emptied her of everything she had and everything she was.

Never again would there be too many stars in the sky.