Heir to a Fallen Star

Chapter 60

I pack away the final jars of camphor salve and the remaining vials of holy basil tonic, the rhythmic thud-thud of the mortar and pestle finally falling silent. My hands are stained with herb juices and my shoulders ache, but a profound sense of satisfaction settles deep in my chest. The defences are ready.

I roll up my loose white sleeves slightly, adjust the heavy leather belt supporting my dagger, and step out of the sweltering cabin into the crisp ocean air.

The midday sun is bright, reflecting off the deep, endless sapphire of the sea. The Vanguard's Wake is moving with an aggressive, roaring speed now, leaning hard into the swells as we push deeper into uncharted waters.

Up on the main deck, there’s no trace of the morning's terror—only a well-oiled machine of pure muscle and grit. I spot Kaelen immediately. He’s discarded his heavy leather vest, his linen shirt damp and clinging to his broad shoulders as he stands right in the thick of it with the crew. His massive arms are straining, muscles rippling under his sun-bronzed skin as he grips a thick, heavy layer of braided mooring rope alongside Boulder and three other men.

"Heave! Ho! Heave!" Boulder bellows, leading the rhythm. Kaelen throws his entire weight into the line, hauling with a raw, brutal strength that matches his strongest sailors’ pound for pound, his face set in a grin of pure determination.

As I watch them work, a shadow falls over me. I turn to see Silas approaching from the helm stairs. The old quartermaster looks significantly better than he did a few hours ago; the holy basil tonic has brought the colour back to his weathered cheeks, though his single eye is sharp and assessing as he stops beside me.

He leans his hip against the wooden railing, watching Kaelen and the men haul before looking down at me with a gruff, appreciative nod.

"They're taking to the tonic well, Iris," Silas says, his gravelly voice carrying clearly over the rushing wind. "The shaking in their hands is gone, and the fog in their heads cleared out an hour ago. You've performed a bloody miracle on this crew today."

He pauses, crossing his arms over his chest, a subtle, knowing glimmer in his eye as he tilts his head toward Kaelen. "And I see the Captain’s head is properly screwed back on, too. Though I must say... in forty years at sea, I’ve never seen a man get laid out by a lady and look so damn pleased about it afterward."

I let out a soft, dry chuckle, shaking my head as a faint blush touches my cheeks, though the amusement fades almost instantly. I turn my gaze from Kaelen and look directly at Silas, my fingers instinctively drifting toward my collarbone, where the celestial artifact rests hidden against my skin.

The worry hits me then, sudden and sharp, tearing painful knots into my belly. I brace myself. I've spent my whole life knowing that power makes people greedy. I fully expect him to push, to interrogate me, to try and tear the truth out of me the way most men would when faced with a weapon that can blind the sea itself.

"You haven't asked me about the stone," I say softly, my voice barely carrying over the creak of the ship's timbers.

Silas doesn't flinch. He doesn't look at my shirt, and he doesn't shift his stance. He just keeps his single, weathered eye fixed on the horizon, his jaw set beneath his greying beard. He takes a slow, deep breath of the salty air before he finally speaks.

"I've been sailing these waters since before you were a blink in your mother's eye, Iris," Silas says, his gravelly voice dropping into a quiet, serious register. "I've seen things in the deep trenches that would turn a young man's hair white overnight. I know the world is full of ancient, heavy things that don't belong to ordinary men."

He finally turns his head to look at me, and there is no greed in his gaze—only a profound, protective respect.

"I don't need to know what it is, where it came from, or what gods breathed life into it," Silas states firmly. "What I saw this morning was a woman who used her secrets to keep my crew from walking into the jaws of death. You didn't use it to conquer; you used it to save us. That's all the truth I need."

He glances back over at Kaelen, who is currently laughing with Boulder as they secure the massive rope to an iron cleat.

"Besides," Silas adds with a faint, knowing smirk, "If I tried to tear any truths out of you, the Captain would likely skin me alive and hang my hide from the crow's nest. And frankly? After seeing that slap you gave him, I think I'm more afraid of you than I am of him."

My laugh is no longer dry or guarded; it is full of genuine warmth, ringing out clear against the crisp ocean wind. The knots in my belly slowly unravel, leaving behind a profound sense of relief.

"Trust is a very rare thing for me, Silas," I say softly, looking at the old quartermaster with newfound respect. "But I do trust you. And I thank you for your silence. If the wrong people knew I had it... let's just say it wouldn't end well for me. Or for anyone standing near me."

Silas nods once, a heavy, solemn gesture that seals the unspoken vow between us. "Your secrets are safe on this deck, Iris. The Vanguard protects its own."

Before the moment can grow too heavy, Kaelen's deep, booming laugh echoes from the main deck. He wipes a sheen of sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm, his moss-green eyes scanning the deck until they lock onto me. A brilliant, unforced smile breaks across his face the second he sees me standing there.

He tosses the end of a heavy line to Boulder, says something that makes the big sailor chuckle, and begins striding across the deck toward us, his long, powerful legs devouring the distance.

"Looks like my time is up," Silas murmurs with a smirk, straightening his posture as the captain approaches. "Keep your wits about you, Master Apothecary. The water's deepening ahead."

With a respectful tip of his weathered cap, Silas steps past me to return to the helm, leaving me waiting as Kaelen closes the final few feet between us, radiating warmth, strength, and the unmistakable scent of the sea.

“I’ve been thinking captain, I have not fully thought out this plan. We are supposed to dive into the trenches but I still have not learnt how to swim. As strong as you are, you won’t be able to carry me on your back this time.”

Kaelen stops right in front of me, his chest still heaving slightly from the heavy lifting, his smile faltering just a fraction as my words register.

He blinks, looking down at me as if waiting for the punchline. When none comes, his eyebrows shoot straight up toward his hairline.

"You..." Kaelen starts, a look of pure, unadulterated shock crossing his features before he tries—and completely fails—to suppress a sudden grin. "You took a commission on a vanguard vessel, sailed straight into a siren-infested reef, blinded a sea monster, and you still don't know how to swim, Red?"

He lets out a low, booming chuckle, shaking his head as he rests his large hands on his hips. The utter absurdity of it seems to delight him, even as the tactical reality sets in.

"By the gods, you truly are the most dangerous woman alive," he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement. Then, his gaze softens, turning serious as he looks out over the dark, churning water where the trench begins to drop off. "But you're right. The trench is deep, the currents down there are brutal, and I can't just strap you to my back like a rucksack while we're hunting whatever is waiting for us in the dark."

He steps in closer, blocking the wind and the view of the crew with his massive frame, his moss-green eyes locking onto mine with steady, unwavering focus.

"We have a few days before we reach the primary drop point," Kaelen says, his voice dropping into that low, authoritative tone that makes my pulse quicken. "Which means your training starts today, Master Apothecary. As soon as the sun dips and the waters calm, I'm throwing you over the side. Don't worry," he adds, a wicked, teasing glint returning to his eyes as he leans down to whisper against my ear, "I'll be right there in the water with you. And I promise I won't let you drown—if only to save myself from that wicked right hook of yours."

“So, you don’t mind me stripping into my undergarments in full view of your crew as I learn to swim, in this deep dark ocean? You have to be joking.”

Kaelen’s grin vanishes so fast I can practically hear the brakes screech in his mind.

He freezes, his eyes widening as the literal, practical image of what he just suggested forces its way into his brain. He looks at me, then slowly turns his head to look over his shoulder at the deck. Forty hardened, lonely, rough-around-the-edges sailors are scattered across the timber, currently swearing, spitting, and hauling ropes.

When Kaelen turns back to me, the cool, confident captain is entirely gone. His jaw is tight, and a faint, dark flush is creeping up his neck into his cheeks.

"I am not joking, and you are not doing that," he says, his voice suddenly dropping a full octave into a low, fiercely possessive growl. He steps even closer, completely eclipsing me from the crew's line of sight with his massive shoulders. "The gods help me, I didn't think that through."

The very idea of me stripping down to my shifts on the open deck while forty men pretend not to stare seems to have short-circuited his brain. He rubs the back of his neck, his moss-green eyes flashing with a mix of irritation at himself and a sudden, intense protective streak.

"New plan," he grumbles, leaning down so his mouth is right against my ear, his breath hot and slightly ragged. "You aren't learning out here. Tonight, when the ship anchors and the men are confined to the lower barracks for supper, we are lowering the small skiff. Just you and me. Out in the dark, away from any eyes."

He pulls back just enough to look down into my eyes, his grip tightening on my waist, his expression a mix of fierce gravity and a lingering, dangerous heat.

"As for the 'deep dark ocean' part..." He runs a thumb over my hip, his voice softening into something thick and resolute. "You won't be looking at the dark, Iris. You'll be looking at me. I'll be holding you up the entire time. Do we have a deal?"

“Yes, that definitely sounds more agreeable to me.”

"Good," Kaelen murmurs, the tension in his broad shoulders visibly relaxing as he lets out a low, relieved breath. A slow, deeply satisfied smile returns to his face, his moss-green eyes locked onto mine with a heat that has absolutely nothing to do with the midday sun. "Because I value my crew’s lives, and I don't think I'd be able to stop myself from tossing any man overboard who so much as blinked in your direction."

He gives my waist one last, lingering squeeze before reluctantly stepping back, a professional mask slipping smoothly over his features as Boulder shouts a question about the forward rigging from across the deck.

"Get some rest, Red," Kaelen says over his shoulder, his voice carrying that familiar, commanding captain's rumble once more as he turns back toward his men. "Eat something, hydrate, and prepare yourself. Tonight, the ocean becomes your classroom."