Chapter 57
Shouts fill the air, and within the span of a heartbeat, Isolde’s small crew fills the deck.
A smile pulls at my lips. Even with Isolde harnessing her power and my own, she’s still no match for whatever the Sea Court brings.
But I stare at the lone ship bobbing in the distance, waiting for others to crest the horizon behind it.
None do.
My stomach tumbles, and the flapping of wings fills the air—as if the sky itself is buzzing. I tilt my head as a shadow blots out the sun climbing toward the heavens. It’s not the wyvern.
No roars follow, nor a steady stream of fire billowing from their maws.
It’s Isolde’s air legion.
My gaze swings back to the ship coming steadily closer, and my heart thuds against my ribcage. They must see my ship and assume it’s friendly—not knowing The Twelfth Night is occupied by an enemy.
Beaks snap, and the riders astride the falcons swoop closer to the water, pulling arrows from the quivers strapped to their backs.
“Briar, listen to me,” Kressa says.
But my attention is pinned on the boat in the distance. Despite the Sea Court flag, there’s something unusual to the shape of the vessel. The bow is wider, and the masts aren’t as tall as the rest of ours are.
“My father was lying,” she continues. “It was only to get you to reveal the location of the Fire Court.” Her voice pauses, and in my periphery, I catch her wincing as she leans closer. “He never captured your crew. That’s your crew.”
A chasm opens in my chest—stretching across the whitecaps of the waves. Figures run across the deck in the distance, and as one vanishes into thin air, my skin goes cold.
Thea.
She reappears at the crow’s nest, one hand clinging to the wooden rail as she peers through a telescope. A heartbeat later, she transports back to the deck.
A sour taste coats my tongue. If it were just Isolde, my crew could stand a chance. But with her entire legion swooping over the surface of the sea, and my power in her veins—
“Go! Leave!” I scream, forcing my voice to carry over the distance.
The chains dig into my skin as I lean forward, but it’s not enough. Between the shouts of the crew, the slapping of the waves, and the beating of wings overhead, there’s no chance they heard me.
A gust whips up around us, thrashing my hair around my head. Isolde stands at the helm with her eyes narrowed, twisting the wind currents with an outstretched hand.
My stomach plummets. The ocean shifts, and she wraps a hand around the wheel, twisting us toward the ship carrying my crew. A war cry fills the air, and the falcons spear toward its sails—the archers on the back readying their bows.
The chains around me shift, and I glance over my shoulder as Kressa untangles herself from the binds.
Her gaze meets mine, and she flashes a key clutched in her palm. “I managed to pull this from her when she attacked me. But your cuffs…”
“Just get me off the mast,” I whisper.
She inches toward me as men and women run around the deck, shifting the masts and readying weapons. She slips the key into the lock around my waist, and the chains clatter to the wooden planks. I stiffen, and Isolde’s head snaps in our direction.
Her eyes flash, but Kressa jumps to her feet as a man lunges at her with a sword.
She dodges, and the blade buries into the wooden mast behind her.
She grabs his wrist and twists the weapon out of his grasp, yanking it out of the wood before she drags the sharp edge against the man’s throat.
He drops as another one closes in on us.
A sheet of ice crawls over the deck, and Isolde’s hair whips around her head as she strides down the stairs—her gaze pinned on me. My heart tumbles over itself—pulse thrashing as I press my chained hands to the deck and force myself up.
“Think you can manage?” Kressa breathes, holding the hilt of the sword toward me.
I study the blade and spare a glance at my bound hands. There’s enough give in the chain to at least defend myself. “Of course I can.”
Her eyes dance over me for a heartbeat, and I wrap my hand around the leather of the hilt. There’s an unfamiliar weight to it, but I balance it in my palm.
A woman circles around the mast and swings a dagger toward the top of Kressa’s spine. I sidestep and push Kressa out of the way, plunging my sword into the woman’s stomach. I wrench it free, and she stumbles back, blood pouring out of her middle.
“Watch out!” Kressa screams.
The air shifts, and she heaves a boulder out of the ocean, grimacing against the efforts. A glint of metal reflects in my periphery, and I turn as Isolde swings a blade toward my shoulder.
Kressa slams the stone into Isolde’s side, sending her tumbling across the deck. She slams against the rail, but presses herself up onto her elbow and sets her gaze on Kressa.
A wheeze comes from Kressa, and her eyes bulge as she grabs for her throat. Isolde quirks a lip and rises to her feet, a slight limp to her right side.
“I’m not going to kill you,” she says, striding toward Kressa as she pulls the air from her lungs. “But you won’t be getting out of here alive.”
My stomach tumbles, and I lurch forward, swinging the blade over my shoulder.
Isolde’s gaze flicks to me, and before my boot hits the deck, a wave slams into me and drags me down.
I swallow a mouthful of saltwater, and the wave twists around me—a cyclone of water.
I thrash my arms and legs, trying to break free for air, but the seawater only swallows me down further, forcing my knees to the deck.
Pressure builds in my chest, and my lungs burn—begging for air.
Then it’s gone.
I crash forward and sputter water from my lungs. My blood turns cold. Across the deck, Kressa lies motionless—her hair a tangled mess around her prone body. I freeze and study her chest, begging for it to move.
She drags in an inhale.
A breath whooshes from me. Unconscious, but alive.
Isolde twists toward me, and my heart hammers. My blade lies against the rail, out of arm’s reach, and my power cowers, dormant in my chest—buried beneath the rhodium around my wrists.
“I’ll keep Kressa alive, for now,” Isolde says, striding closer. “But your crew? I can’t have them around, searching the seas for you. Not when we have so much to accomplish together.”
I force myself to my feet and lunge for the sword, but a gust of wind tosses it sideways and through a gap in the railing. It falls over the edge and plummets into the sea.
“I’d rather die than help you,” I bite out between gritted teeth.
“Oh, Briar.” She smiles, her voice sickly sweet. “You won’t have a choice. And when I have you under my control, I’ll have you watch as I take away every single thing you love.”
She steps closer, hovering over me. In the distance, her falcons circle the ship with my crew on it, firing arrows. My chest tightens, but if there’s anyone more capable of staving off an attack, it’s them.
I face Isolde and straighten my shoulders. “With or without me, you don’t stand a chance.”
She hums, taking another step forward. Her breath wafts over my cheek. “I think you’re sorely mistaken.”
A shout comes from behind her. She sidesteps and twists, and a flash of movement catches my eye.
My breath hitches.
Thea.
Our eyes meet, and my lips tilt at the corner as Isolde lunges toward her. She slashes out her blade, but it only meets air.
Thea reappears beside me, panting. Yet her face splits into a smile. “Fancy seeing you here, captain.”
She wraps a hand around my arm, and my vision goes black. My stomach pitches, and I breath through my nose as we tumble through darkness.
My feet slam into the deck of the stolen Earth Court ship, and Thea falls to her knees beside me. She braces a palm against the floor and stands, but her balance wobbles.
I cup her elbow, steadying her, and a lump forms in my throat. “Kressa—”
A bead of sweat drips down her temple, and she shakes her head. “I can’t. I barely had enough to get you.”
Footsteps pound against the deck, and falcons swoop overhead. But a ringing fills my ears, and I study The Twelfth Night bobbing in the distance. “I can’t leave her.”
An arrow burrows into the wood at my feet, and Thea shoves me sideways. I slam to the floor as a dozen arrows pierce the deck where I was standing.
Ivy jumps from a rung along the mast and drives her blade into the back of an archer. She jumps from the falcon, swinging her sword across its middle as she falls. The falcon screeches and plummets into the water on the other side of the ship.
Thea stands over me, blotting out the rising sun. She thrusts out a hand, and I take it, letting her hoist me to my feet.
“We’ll follow whatever orders you give us,” she says, as Leigh and Astrid gut the stomach of another falcon. “But we are tired, wounded, and teetering on burnout. So, you have two choices.”
I swallow, watching as blood drips from Elayne’s shoulder. Celia weaves an arm around Katrina’s waist, guiding her toward a protected corner.
“You can tell us to sail toward the ship to rescue Kressa,” she continues, staring out at the ocean. “But we don’t have keys to get you out of the rhodium. And we can only hold off the falcons for so long.”
“And Isolde bound me to her,” I breathe. “She can wield the sea.”
Thea stiffens, and her gaze swings toward me. She bites back whatever she’s about to say, then swallows and nods. “Your other option is to retreat. But I know what it’s like to be separated from the woman you love. I will support whatever decision you make. Even if it takes my life.”
Another wave of falcons sweep toward us, and the wind picks up, thrashing the sails. Tears sting the space behind my eyes, but I force them down. I can’t make another reckless, selfish choice. The bond stretches out between Kressa and me—a tether connecting us despite the distance.
Everything in me screams to save her.
But I can’t risk my crew. I can’t take the chance of Isolde capturing me again, giving her the power to crush the other courts beneath her fist.
With my power, hers, and soon Kressa’s—she’ll already be too powerful.
I stride to the edge of the ship and wrap my hands around the rail. On a wisp of wind, I whisper, “I’ll find you anywhere.”
There’s a shift down the bond, and I close my eyes, picturing my message delivering straight to Kressa. A fracture forms in my chest. She’s gone again—out of my grasp just when I thought I could have her.
But we agreed to only giving truths. And finding her is a promise I will go to the ends of the earth to keep.
“Tell the others to retreat.” I push away from the railing and turn to Thea. “We’re sailing to Ignata.”
Her eyes hold mine. “Yes, captain.”
THE END