Beneath the Forsaken City Read Online Free PDF

after all. Perhaps they had pulled Conor back on board. He might still be alive. Hope bloomed in her chest, but Cass’s next words filled her with dread again.
    “There are dozens of ships missing, my lady. We can inquire when we reach Dún Caomaugh.”
    “Dún Caomaugh? We were sailing for Fermaigh!”
    “I find that hard to believe, my lady. Fermaigh is far northwest of where we found you. Isn’t it likely you are mistaken?”
    Aine fixed him with a cool stare. “We were sailing for Fermaigh. Perhaps we got blown off course.”
    “Aye, of course, my lady. I meant no offense.”
    Aine sighed. Alienating the man would not help. He might call her my lady , but he was still a Lowlander. “No offense taken, Captain, I assure you. What do we do now?”
    “We put in at Dún Caomaugh and send word to Brightwater and Forrais.”
    Unease crept into her gut at the mention of the two fortresses. Instinct, perhaps. Or was it Comdiu’s leading?
    “Perhaps we should hold off on that. I’d rather no one know I’m alive until I arrive at Forrais.” She held Cass’s eyes for a long moment. “Can I trust you to assist me?”
    “Of course, my lady.”
    “Thank you. Do you suppose you could find me some clean clothes and a basin of water?”
    Cass nodded and averted his eyes. Perhaps he was just now realizing that her clothes were in rags and hanging off of her. He stood, gave her an awkward little bow, and hurried out of the cabin.
    Aine buried her face in her hands. She could barely sort through her battered emotions for words of prayer. Thank you for saving me, Lord. Once again I live when I should have died. There was no other way to explain her survival. But what about Conor? Could he still be alive? Perhaps the crew of the Resolute had been able to retrieve him, even if she had been washed away.
    Cass returned with a basin of water and a folded set of clean clothing, probably borrowed from a cabin boy. His fingers brushed hers as he handed them over. He jerked his hand away. “There’s a comb in the drawer, my lady. When you’re ready, I’ll have some food brought to you.”
    “Thank you, Captain,” she said. “Your kindness is appreciated.”
    As soon as he left, Aine stripped off her salt-stiffened dress and shift. The man’s shirt, tunic, and trousers were worn but clean, and they fit her reasonably well. She found the comb where Cass had indicated and then fashioned her stiff, tangled hair into a queue. With any luck, she could pretend to be a boy once they reached Dún Caomaugh.
    A knock at the cabin door startled her. A cabin boy poked his head through the door and nudged it open with his shoulder, holding a tray of food. He set it down on the small table.
    “Thank you,” she said.
    The boy met her eyes for a moment before dropping his attention back to the decking. “You’re welcome, my lady.” He paused uncomfortably for a moment and then turned on his heel and fled the room.
    Aine forced herself to take a seat in front of the tray. The meal was just fish soup and bread, hearty and warming, but her stomach was suddenly too tight to eat. She bowed her head as tears rolled down her cheeks.
    My husband, my heart . . . where are you? Are you even alive?
    This couldn’t be happening. She and Conor had been separated for three years, reunited, separated again, finally married, and now after two days as husband and wife, she didn’t know if he lived or died. Her chest felt as though it were in a vice, but she still managed to choke out a sob.
    Is this a test, Lord? How could You let this happen to us again? Is he even alive? Please, please, let him be alive.
    Somewhere inside her, she knew that Comdiu never caused bad things to happen, nor did He allow anything to happen that she couldn’t handle with His help. Still, that knowledge did nothing to ease the ache. What more did she have to lose? Both her parents were dead. Ruarc, her faithful guard, had been killed protecting her, most likely Lorcan