In Deeper Waters by F.T. Lukens (best business books of all time txt) 📗

Rot’s footsteps on the ladder interrupted him. After tucking the tooth into his pocket and jamming the cloth into a small space between the wood and the metal cage, Tal stood and waited.

He crossed his arms over his chest and schooled his expression as hope rekindled in his chest. They’d find him. His family would find him, and until then he would endure whatever Zeph and the crew doled out.

Then he’d ensure that Garrett and Shay repaid them in equal measure.

Two nights later Tal tossed and turned in the small area of the cell. He finally slipped into a light doze, only to be awakened by a sound that wasn’t the gentle rocking of the ship, the creaking of the wooden boards, or the bilge pump squeaking. No, this was something from his dreams of home, of the castle.

Tal smiled idly when he heard it again, a soft trill, followed by a ruffling of feathers. He stirred and peered through the gloom. Squirming, he wrapped his hands around the slats, metal biting into his abraded palms, and saw a bird. With a hooked beak and sharp talons, the bird fluffed its brown feathers and turned its head.

Tal clapped a hand over his mouth, muffling his gasp of joy, spotting the black eyes rimmed with gold.

“Kest,” Tal whispered. Hope sputtered in his chest. “Kest, is that you?”

The bird hopped over, clicking its beak, feathers puffing up in surprise. One moment it was a bird, and the next, with a crackle of magic and a transformation of muscles and bone, Kest manifested in his human form. He knelt at the bars, movements cautious.

“Tally?”

In the low light Tal couldn’t be sure that this wasn’t another dream, another vision spurred by his fatigue. The vision cracked a smile, and Tal lunged for his brother. Kest returned the gesture, reaching through the wood and metal and grabbing Tal in an awkward hug.

“Tally,” he breathed. “You’re alive.”

“Is it you?” Tal choked on the words. “Are you real?”

“Yes. It’s me.”

Tal sobbed and scrabbled closer, grasping Kest’s forearms in a bruising grip. Kest’s long hair tickled Tal’s cheek, and the small, familiar detail broke the dam inside of him. Relief flooded his body and soul. Yet it was all tinged with fear. Kest was vulnerable, naked and unarmed. He could easily be captured alongside Tal, but he was there, warm and corporeal.

“Shhh,” Kest soothed. “I’m here. I’m here.” He smoothed a shaky hand through Tal’s hair. “Garrett’s ship is over the horizon. He’ll be here by sunrise.”

Tears dripped over Tal’s cheeks, sliding down his chin to splatter on Kest’s bare skin. “You’ve been getting my messages?”

“Yes,” Kest said. “What have they done to you?” he said softly, eyeing Tal, forehead furrowed. “Can you run?”

Tal nodded frantically. “Yes. I can break the lock and we can go. They have jolly boats at the stern. We’ll row.”

Kest stood, frowning. “There are sailors on the deck.”

“I’ll kill them,” Tal said in a fit of desperation, straightening on shaky legs. He ignored Kest’s look of surprise—his mouth dropped open, his eyes wide. “I’ll use magic and we’ll escape and—”

Footsteps cut Tal off. They echoed overhead, moving toward the ladder that led to the hold.

Kest whipped around. “Someone is coming.”

“Don’t—”

“Garrett is nearby, and now that we know your exact location, he’ll be here soon. Hang on for a few more hours, Tally.”

Tal’s gaze darted to the ladder, then back to Kest. His stomach sank. “Don’t leave me.” Kest backed away, and Tal threw his body against the bars, bruising his chest and torso, hand outstretched, fingertips brushing Kest’s skin. “Don’t leave me. Please, Kest.” His voice broke. “Please.”

“I will be back at dawn with Shay and Garrett. I promise you.”

Despair clogged Tal’s throat. His breathing hitched on painful gasps and sobs as tears streamed from his eyes. He shook, clutching the bars to keep his feet.

The footsteps stopped at the top of the ladder. The wood creaked, and a pair of feet appeared on the top rung.

“I can’t be seen. I promise you, Tally.”

In a blink Kest transformed. The bird took flight, wings outstretched, feathers flashing in the broken moonlight. The sailor on the ladder sputtered and cursed as Kest shot up the shaft to the deck above. With a short but piercing cry, Kest disappeared from Tal’s sight.

Tal fell to the deck, legs crumbling beneath him. He buried his face in his knees. His brother had left him. His brother had left him locked in a cell on an enemy ship, injured, feverish, and crying.

Zeph wanted to break him. She’d tried by punishing his body. She’d tried with taunts and goads. He’d held out, kept his magic tucked close to his chest, and lied and lied, clinging to hope for rescue by his family or by Athlen. He’d endured for days, but inadvertent as it was, Kest’s appearing, then leaving him behind, was much crueler than anything Zeph had done.

Tal curled into himself, and his soul ached with betrayal. In that moment, if Zeph asked him to confess, Tal wasn’t sure he’d turn her down.

8

Zeph stood over Tal as he knelt on the deck near the stern, holystone in his battered hands, a sludge of sand and water spreading out before him. Her boots had been polished and her buttons shone. The short locks of her hair tousled in the wind, and the sun glinted along the row of gold earrings in the shell of her ear.

“Rot says there was a bird in the hold.” She raised an eyebrow. “Was it your brother?”

Tal had woken that morning with tear-stained cheeks and a vague memory of Kest hugging him through the bars before flying away. Feverish and exhausted, Tal couldn’t trust himself. It wouldn’t have been the first time he had dreamed of rescue.

“No,” he said.

She cocked her hip and leaned on the railing. “Did you think it was?”

“For a moment,” Tal answered.

She clucked her tongue. “I told you they weren’t coming. No one knows where you