But just as she expected some retort, an unsettling tremor rippled through the ground beneath them. They both froze, eyes snapping to the quivering undergrowth. Leaves rustled, and the tall palms overhead groaned, swaying in response.

  Then, from a narrow opening between the tangled foliage, a shape emerged. Elle’s jaw dropped. It looked…like a ship. Like a grand, wooden vessel with sails furled. But instead of floating on water, it balanced precariously on two colossal, bird-like legs. Each step caused the timbers to creak, the entire hull rocking as though it sailed invisible waves.

  Sunlight lanced through the canopy, illuminating the worn planks and tattered rigging in shifting patches of gold. The vessel’s bow was carved in the likeness of a snarling beast, something canine, yet serpentine, and it glowered at them both with sightless wooden eyes.

  “What in all the realms…” Elle whispered, heart pounding with equal parts wonder and dread.

  Ashra said nothing, but his gaze narrowed, alert and cautious. The wooden behemoth paused its strange march, legs flexing as it adjusted balance in the dense undergrowth. Then came a raspy, mad cackle, echoing from somewhere deep within the bizarre craft. The sound reverberated off the mossy trunks, a haunting note of glee that sent a chill coursing down Elle’s spine.

  For one breathless moment, the ship stayed put, its tall mast scraping leaves from the canopy. Then, without warning, the legs took another ponderous stride, the battered keel swinging wide, carrying it farther into the jungle’s shadowy depths. Its eerie laughter dwindled until only the rustle of disturbed branches remained.

  Elle and Ashra exchanged looks. Words failed them both. What could one say in the face of a floating ship on monstrous legs, steered by an unseen, cackling presence?

  The princess inhaled slowly, reminding herself that picking another fight would certainly not help her. Her pulse still raced from their recent encounter with the bizarre, legged ship. Swallowing her pride, she tried her best to speak calmly. “Let’s help each other first,” she proposed, lifting her chin. “Then, after all this, our grievances can be aired. Does that sound like a good plan?”

  Ashra glanced at her, a slight smirk curving his lips. “You’re finally using your head, princess.”

  A spark of frustration flickered across her features. Elle rolled her eyes, shoulders stiffening. “If I had any other choice,” she said coldly, “I wouldn’t even bother with you.”

  His only response was a subdued smile, as though her temper amused him more than it concerned him. She turned away, cheeks burning. He was so infuriating. Yet they were stuck together in this untamed jungle, rife with unknown threats, and possibly that monstrous ship looming somewhere beyond the tangled foliage.

  Abruptly, she heard him rustling through his satchel. A glance over her shoulder revealed him pulling out a plain pair of leather boots. Unremarkable in design, but sturdy-looking. He knelt slightly, extending them to her with a gentleness she hadn’t expected. “For you, princess,” he said, voice oddly subdued. “Perhaps your feet could use them.”

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  Elle blinked, momentarily caught off-guard. She stared at the boots, her mind scrambling to parse his motives. It was only hours ago that he’d threatened to break her ankles if she tried to flee, and now he was handing her footwear?

  A knot of suspicion and confusion formed in her throat. “Why are you being nice?” she asked quietly, disbelieving. “I don’t understand you.”

  He paused for a breath, expression unreadable in the greenish dapple of the jungle canopy. Then, he tucked a stray strand of damp hair behind his ear. “Paying my dues,” he murmured. He offered no further explanation, simply shrugged and stood.

  She tucked the boots under one arm, her thoughts roiling in circles. Paying his dues…to whom? She should’ve refused, hurled the boots back at him, but her bruised and cut feet throbbed with every step. The battered princess needed a reprieve more than she needed to uphold her pride. Elle considered mending the cuts on her feet. The temptation to ease her pain right away tugged at her thoughts, but the half–dark elf was watching her closely.

  No, she decided. She couldn’t let him see everything she was capable of. So she cleared her throat and raised her head.

  “Would you, um, turn around?” she asked, voice light with forced nonchalance.

  He arched an eyebrow, briefly perplexed. “Why?”

  She let out an exasperated sigh. “I’d prefer not to change in front of you,” she said, fixing him with a look that dared him to question further. At the same time, she tested his boundaries. Would he actually give her that privacy?

  To her mild surprise, Ashra complied. He pivoted away, flicking her a final glance over his shoulder, clearly uncertain about this sudden demand.

  He was more of a gentleman than she thought possible, she mused, pushing aside a shred of guilt at the half-lie.

  The moment his back was turned, she knelt in the damp sand, pressing her palms to each foot in turn. Warmth flared under her skin as her healing magic coursed through the burns and abrasions. Just a little help, she promised herself. She couldn’t limp around when survival was at stake. The flesh knitted easily, raw edges smoothing as if days had passed. She exhaled quietly, relief sweet on her lips.

  Task done, she slid her feet into the unremarkable leather boots he’d offered, wincing slightly before settling into the snug fit. The gentle, newly repaired skin twinged once, then relaxed, and a surprising flood of relief followed. For the first time since waking up on the beach, she felt…almost normal. Protected from the rough terrain, at least.

  “Finished,” she called, tapping the boots on the ground to test them. Her voice carried the faint note of gratitude she fought to keep hidden.

  Ashra turned back, expression neutral. He didn’t ask any questions, didn’t press her for an explanation. Another unexpected gesture of courtesy. His gaze fell to her newly shod feet, then flicked up to her face. She couldn’t read the thought behind those jade-and-gold eyes, but it was enough to set her heart on guard.

  She offered him a wary nod. “All right,” she said, swallowing hard. “Where do we go from here?”

  He shrugged, raking a hand through his still-damp hair. “We find a way off this island…alive.”

  Her stomach knotted at the memory of that legged ship prowling through the jungle, cackling echoing on the wind. The promise of more hazards lay waiting. She squared her shoulders, ignoring the lingering sting of exhaustion in her limbs.

  Fine, she thought. They needed each other for now.

  With a last suspicious glance at him, she squared her stance. First things first: survive. Everything else could wait.