All the Stars and Teeth (All the Stars and Teeth Duology) by Adalyn Grace Page A

least, why would he lie about something so personal?—and if I’ve learned anything in my eighteen years, it’s to follow gut instinct. If Bastian is telling the truth, and if magic can really be stolen, then Kaven’s a bigger threat than I ever could have imagined.
    Why didn’t I know about this? Why doesn’t anyone know?
    “How did Kaven steal it?” I ask. “And if you’ve no magic, then how is this ship sailing?”
    Bastian shakes his head. “Do remember that I just watched you kill a man.” His words are more matter-of-fact than they are cold. “ And you threatened to stab me—multiple times, might I add—and steal my ship. So forgive me if I distrust you as much as you distrust me.”
    “He’s truly that dangerous?” I ask quietly.
    A shadow crosses Bastian’s face. “Do you know anyone else with the power to steal another person’s magic?”
    I shake my head. I can’t even imagine what it might be like to have someone steal my magic—it’d be too invasive. Like they were stealing part of my very soul. But I relax in knowing thatnot only is my magic tied to my soul, but also my very bloodline. I doubt something like that could ever be stolen.
    Bastian lifts his gaze to focus on Ferrick as he approaches, dressed the same as he was last night. His arm has regrown a little overnight, though he’s still missing everything from the forearm down.
    “Good morning, fair fiancé,” Bastian bellows, swiftly changing the subject. “There’s bread and dried meat in storage if you’re hungry.”
    At the mention of food, Ferrick presses a hand to his stomach and groans. He looks even worse than he did last night. His green skin rivals the color of his blazer. With one of Bastian’s handkerchiefs wadded tightly in his hand, he wipes sweat from his forehead.
    “No, thank you.” Ferrick’s voice is pinched. “How anyone can live on a ship, I will never understand. I felt as if I was floating on the sea the entire night.”
    “That’s because you were,” I say.
    Bastian laughs and moves to pat Ferrick on the shoulder, all charm and smiles once more. “Not quite the sailor, are you, mate? No worries, it takes some people days at sea before they adapt. Stick around and you’ll have your sea legs in no time. But in the meantime, if you’re going to throw up, try to avoid doing it on my ship.”
    Ferrick sways. Hurling on Keel Haul is precisely what he looks ready to do.
    “How are you, Amora?” he asks, eyeing the bread in my hands. When I take the last bite, Ferrick looks even queasier.
    “It doesn’t bother me,” is all I say, because how am I supposed to tell him the truth? How do I admit being on this ship feels as natural as breathing? That when I woke up this morning, it wasn’t the possibility of my execution I thought of first. It was the excitement of travel. Of sailing.
    It’s not the way I imagined it, but I’m living a dream I’ve had since the first time I saw the ocean.
    “You’re a natural,” Bastian says. “You even woke with the sun.”
    I accept his compliment with a smile. Though there’s still the tension of curiosity between us, I let it go for the time being. Perhaps some memories are too painful to share. “Does this mean you’ll begin teaching me how to sail?”
    “Nice try, but being a natural on the sea doesn’t mean you’re a natural with Keel Haul . Your enthusiasm is charming, but not quite yet.” The amusement laced in his voice is like a honey cake, warm and sweet. “Besides, you should probably do something about that little amputated gift in your room. Before it starts rotting, please.”
    Ferrick takes a seat and holds his head between his knees. He’s not too ill to snort.
    “It’ll be bloody,” I tell Bastian, who turns up his nose. Keel Haul ’s deck is spotless, meaning he must have spent hours scrubbing the mess he made the night before.
    “Drain it into the ocean and then we’ll head below. I’ve a few burlap sacks you can work