Chapter 33
Wood splinters, and I’m thrown forward. I scramble for the rail—for a spoke on the helm, but the impact tosses me over the railing and I slam onto the deck. The air shoots from my lungs, and I gasp for air as shouts ring out.
My vision swims, and I force my eyes open. The only thing I make out is Thea, her eyes wide and panicked.
“Celia,” she mouths.
Then she disappears.
I heave myself onto an elbow, my bones and muscles protesting, and stand in time to catch Kressa sprinting toward the back of the ship—where the cannonball hit.
My heart catches in my throat. If they shoot again, she’ll be in the range of fire.
I push myself up a follow in her steps, but Thea appears in front of me with Celia—dazed but unharmed.
“Did it compromise the ship?” I say, my breath little more than a wheeze as I clutch my side.
“No, captain. But—”
“Take me to their ships.”
Thea’s eyes shoot wide, and a swallow works down her throat. “To the Sky Court ships?”
I nod. “How close are you to burn out?” We need her to be strong enough to catch Inez when we convince her to jump from the lip of her cell.
She gnaws on her lip and glances over my shoulder. “I’ll have enough.”
My temple throbs, and my vision sways, but I steel my spine and curl my hands into fists. After how much power I’ve expelled, I’m teetering on the edge of burnout. But if I don’t take the risk, it could only take one more cannonball or a second fleet of falcons to sink the ship.
Thea gives me a decisive nod. “Are you ready, captain?”
I straighten my shoulders. “Yes.”
She wraps her hand around my wrist and time warps—my vision going black.
A heartbeat later, my feet hit the deck of a foreign ship. Faces whip in my direction, and their eyes narrow as they draw their weapons. In the distance, Kressa throws herself against the rail of the stern.
Panic flares down the bond. What in the fates are you doing?
I shut her out and burrow into my power. “Thea. Cover me, but stay close.”
She draws her sword from its scabbard and shifts in front of me. Heat and water flood my system, and I cling to consciousness as I dive into the depth of power nestled in my core.
I tune out the waves slapping against the hull, and the screech of metal on metal as it vertebrates mere inches away.
My hands come together on their own—palms pressing together.
The water and fire twist together deep within me, braiding into one.
I bite into my cheek, and blood fills my mouth as I pry them apart.
I blow out a breath, and open my eyes.
The ocean beneath us splits in two.
The ship plummets toward the seafloor, and screams echo off the wall of waves surrounding us. My feet hover off the deck, and my stomach pitches as my body goes weightless.
“Now!” I scream over the crashing of waves, stretching my hand toward Thea.
Our fingers brush, and the ship careens faster and faster, the crew screaming—limbs flailing through the air. My heart rattles in my chest, and I force myself closer, straining my arm in its socket.
She tangles her fingers through mine, and we disappear.
We slam onto the deck of the other enemy ship, and I release my hold on the water. The split in the ocean disappears, swallowing the ship and its crew whole.
Silence follows in its wake.
I sway on my feet, but force myself steady as I ready another wave of power for the second ship. The crew turns from the railing—some with their eyes narrowed, others trembling. They reach for their blades, but it’s too late.
I splay open my hands, and flames shoot across the deck, lighting fire to everything they touch. Clothes go up in a blaze, and weapons drop to the deck as the soldiers burn alive. My head grows light, but I cast the flames across the wooden planks, up the masts, and into the sail.
“Briar, we need to go,” Thea whispers, her face veiled in smoke.
But I can’t stop. Not until I’m sure no one is making it off this ship. Burnout lurks beneath the skin of my palms, but I grit my teeth and push deeper into my power.
Two men lunge for the rowboat swinging off the edge of the ship. I whip my attention to them, and the small boat bursts into flames. Within the span of a heartbeat, the fire takes them next.
A small smile pull at my lips, but the flames shooting from my hands sputter out. I stumble sideways, and my knees buckle. Thea wraps an arm around me, and as the wave of fire threatens to take us down with it, we disappear.
My legs go out from under me, and I crumple onto the deck of Kressa’s ship—my chest heaving. Blurred faces blot my vision, and my pulse is a high pitched ringing in my ears.
Someone falls to their knees beside me and presses a finger against my throat. “Is she okay?”
Kressa. My right hand splays out, and the tips of my fingers brush her calf. As if the sensation were in my own chest, relief washes over me, calming the racing of my heart.
“Close to burnout, but she’s okay,” Thea says, her voice hoarse and strained.
“The falcons,” I whisper, but each word grates against the lining of my throat.
“I took care of them,” Kressa says, wiping the hair from my forehead. “But we have to keep going and get Inez before reinforcements are sent.”
I nod, and even that tests my ability to remain conscious. But I suck in a deep breath and lift my arm. “Help me up.”
Kressa shakes her head. “No, you can stay in my quarters and rest.”
Another figure bends over me—Celia. She wraps her hands around mine and helps me to my feet, her stormy eyes holding mine. “Yes, captain.”
My breath catches, and the dizziness fades. I hold her gaze, and while no words pass between us, there’s a fragile understanding. A commitment. Her captain.
I squeeze her hand then turn to Kressa. “Nicole? Is she okay?”
She nods. “The arrow is deep, but it didn’t hit anything vital, and the bleeding has stopped. Celia helped carry her below deck where she’ll rest. But Briar, what happened—” She steps closer and sets a palm on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
My brows pull together. “For what?”
Thea shifts in front of her, blocking my view. “The cannonball ripped through the rooms belowdeck. I checked on everyone when I went to get Celia.” Tears gather in her sapphire eyes, and her voice cracks. “Rita is gone.”
“Gone? In the water?” I step toward the rail. “We have to find her before hypothermia takes her, or she drowns.”
Thea presses her lips into a thin line and shakes her head. My skin goes cold, and a ringing fills my ears, blocking out the next words that come out of her mouth.
I can’t hear them, but I can make them out on her lips.
Rita is dead.
My knees give out, and Thea throws an arm around my waist, keeping me upright. Tears fill my vision, blurring out the rest of the world, and a guttural, choked sob escapes my lips.
After I was bound to the curse, Rita was the first person to prove to me unconditional love still existed. She took me in, sobered me up, and fed and housed me until I had the strength and courage to live.
And now she’s gone.
A stone settles in my stomach, and I lift my tear-stained gaze to Thea. “I brought her onto the ship. She was here because of me.”
She pulls me against her chest and rests her hand on the back of my head. “This wasn’t your fault, Briar.”
My tears soak the fabric of her shoulder. “She was like a mother to me.”
“And may she rest well beside Queen Marina.”
I press my eyes shut, squeezing them tight. A loneliness sweeps across my shoulder blades and weaves into my bones. But Rita wouldn’t want me to carry on like this—not when the rest of the women belowdeck need me. I straighten and swipe the tears from my eyes. “We’re sleeping on the deck tonight.”
Thea squeezes my hand. “Of course, captain.”
Kressa’s gaze finds mine, and a shudder runs down my spine as she steps closer.
“Rita was a good woman,” she says. “We will ensure the rest of the women have safe passage to Ignata. But in the meantime.”
She twists toward the prison, and my eyes widen. Inez stands at the lip of her cell, her clothes billowing in the harsh breeze that sweeps up the face of the castle. I step toward the bow, my crew on my heels.
I dip into my power, but there’s little more than a wisp left—not nearly enough to coax the tide into pulling us closer. My hands meet the railing, and I twist toward Elayne and Celia. “Open the sails. All of them.”
They nod and disperse, with only the flaming ship in the distance to light the deck. Yet, they could do it in the dead of night.
I turn to Thea, the flames reflecting in her eyes. “Are you ready?”
She nods.
Opening the pathway in my mind, I brush against Kressa’s thoughts. Can you man the helm?
Annoyance sweeps down the bond, following by a sour tinge of worry. As long as you don’t do anything reckless again.
No promises.
I grip the railing, my balance still unsteady after downing the Sky Court ships. If Kressa can sense it, she doesn’t let on.
The sails snap open, and the wind carries us forward. Inez doesn’t move, one hand pressed against the cell wall as she watches us sail closer.
“Do you think she’ll be the same?” Thea whispers.
I brush aside the same worry that has gnawed at my thoughts and shake my head. “If she’s not, she’s still ours.”
Thea rests a hand over mine. “We’re going to find a way out of this. We’ll get our crew and our freedom, then find our ship.”
I weave our fingers together, and even though I don’t quite believe the words, I force them out. “Yes, we will.”
The rough-hewn castle wall soars over us, blotting out the moonlight and blanketing the ship in darkness. Inez drops to her knees and peers over the edge.Far below her, rock formations spear out of the water like jaws, stopping us from getting close enough.
She opens her mouth and shouts something, but between the waves slapping the mountainside and the wind shooting up the wall, her words die before they reach us.
“How do we convince her to jump?” Thea says.
I chew on my lip. “I’ll go to the crow’s nest.”
“Let me take you there.” She grabs my wrist.
“No. You need to save your power to catch her when she falls.”
Steeling myself against the nausea roiling in my stomach, I pull out of her grasp and stride to the mainmast. The sails ripple in the wind, having been lowered to keep us steady against the waves.
Metal spoke protrude from the mast, acting as a ladder, and I wrap my hand around them, hoisting myself up.
My vision swims, but I keep my gaze pinned to the next handhold as nausea threatens to take over. I fill my mind with images of Rita—the way her eyes crinkled at the edges when she smiled. Someone who believed wholeheartedly in me when I didn’t believe in myself.
I reach for the final rung and throw myself onto the narrow planks that circle the mast. It’s barely any closer to Inez than the deck, but her eyes widen on me. She scoots away from the edge, as if this is a scene she’s seen played out, but curiosity gets the best of her, and she pauses.
A weight lifts from my shoulders. The cell hasn’t broken her.
Cupping my hands around my mouth, I scream, “Jump!”
Hundreds of meters up, her brow furrows and she shakes her head. The wind whistles around me, but it’s the thrashing of the ocean stopping my words from reaching her.
The boat rocks. My balance sways, but I grip the railing until it levels out. I watch the waves at the base of the prison, waiting for them to ease. The whitecaps disappear, and I tilt my head toward Inez. “Jump!”
She rises to her feet, and my heart leaps. But she shakes her head and yells something back. Her words die on the wind.
“Jump!” Kressa screams.
Then Celia joins. And Julian.
My heart swells in my chest. In her cell, Inez shifts closer to the edge, her movements more aware. Like she’s come to the conclusion we’re real—not a figment of the prison.
The wind dies for a heartbeat, holding its breath. Tilting my head up, I cup my hands around my mouth. “Jump!”
Our screams echo across the water, reverberating off the solid stone of the castle.
Inez nods. “Okay!”
My breath stutters, and a wide smile splits my face as cheers sound from the deck. I lean against the railing and find Thea at the bow.
“Ready?” I call.
She flexes her hands. “Yes.”
Overhead, Inez braces herself against the side wall, her bare feet inching over the edges. Her skin is pale, eyes wide, and for a moment I don’t see the woman who spent most of her life in a prison.
I see the young girl I brought onto my crew. The one who proved her worthiness and loyalty before she had a lick of power. I hold her gaze, as if I can burrow bravery into her.
Her throat bobs on a swallow.
She jumps.
My stomach falls with her, and I glance toward Thea, my heart thrashing in my ribs.
But she’s still there.
“Thea!” I scream. “Now!”
She stumbles back from the bow. “It’s not working! I’m out!”
Inez screams, her body hurtling toward the jagged rocks below, hair whipping around her head. She tumbles over herself, and the waves retreat from the wall, revealing the pointed ends of the rock formations at the bottom.
I stop breathing.
She put her trust in me. I can’t let her down.
Even if my power swallows me whole.
Against the splitting pain in my head, I lift my hands and will the dregs of my power to the surface, forcing them to the tips of my fingers.
The ocean whips up and stops her fall, cradling her body like a blanket. She hovers in the air, encased in the wave, and I pull it toward the ship. It crests and crashes onto the deck, spilling Inez onto the wood. Thea darts toward her and falls to her knees.
I drop my hands to my sides. The breath sours in my lungs, and my vision clouds as I stumble forward.
The ship lurches, and I put my hands out—reaching for the rail. But a lightness takes over my body, and I slip.
I tumble over the railing and the world goes black.