Chapter 60
The ocean embraces me, singing me a song only I know. I plunge deeper and let her guide me to the hull of the ship drifting away from the dock. This far down, I can’t see past my hands, but the ocean reads my mind, and knows exactly where to send me.
I surface on the other side of the ship, out of sight from the dock. Climbing up the side, I throw myself over the rail and onto the deck.
Sea mist blows against my cheek. I don’t have the time to indulge, but I lower myself to the worn planks and revel in the sway of the ship.
I inhale the wood, and my fingers trail over the knots in the planks.
They don’t have the familiar grooves of The Twelfth Night, but if I shut my eyes and tune out the world, it’s almost like I’m on my ship.
If I pretend enough, it almost feels like home.
The bond tugs at my chest. You lied to me.
My mouth sours, but no regret settles in me. Protect your court, and I’ll protect mine. I need you to ground my power and keep me from drowning Sarenia.
I could have helped you.
I rise and stride to the main mast, unfurling the rope. The sail snaps open. You will, more than you know. And if I die, someone has to stop Caelus.
It isn’t anger that comes through the bond, but fear. And acceptance. She knows as well as I do the burden we bear. We can’t afford to be selfish.
Her thoughts pause, then, When this is over, I’ll find you.
The temperature plunges, and a layer of ice stretches across the water. Wind whips the sail and the ship rotates. I sprint to the helm and grab hold of the wheel, but it spins out of my grip.
I lunge to the foremast and ease it open. The ship lurches, throwing me against the rail, and as I look over the side, ice traps the ship.
Digging into my power, I smash wave after wave onto it. It splinters at the edges, but doesn’t budge, circling the hull. At the dock, a soldier lowers himself to the ice. Then another.
Heat gathers at my palms.
I delve into Kressa’s power and flood my thoughts with my mother, with Marianne—all the innocent men and women who lost their lives in The Gales. Rage burns through my veins, searing my blood and boiling the water beneath my skin.
I bottle it up, and just as I’m about to explode, I release it.
At first, nothing happens. Then a crack echoes through the air and shakes the ship.
It races across the glacier, and steam rises through the fissure.
The water around the ice boils, and soldiers scurry back to the dock.
I clench my fist and throw a wave into them. They stumble into the bubbling water.
And don’t resurface.
The ice around the hull melts, and at the harbor, a wall of earth rises from the ground, surrounding the outskirts of Sarenia. I push from the rail and run to the wheel, aiming the bow due west, farther out into the ocean.
I close my eyes and will the waves to carry me out. Clouds billow overhead, crackling, and lightning spears the deck. Smoke billows from the plank and I throw a wave over it before a fire breaks out.
Wind whips at the sails, and a gust slams from the other direction. My heart climbs into my throat as the ship pitches sideways and tilts, the mast tapping the surface of the water.
I’m going to capsize.
I slide across the deck as the pirate flag dips underwater. I find purchase on a rail and cling to it, splinters digging into my palms. I grimace but hold tight as my feet swing airborne. I reverse the direction of the water, and the ship sways back, slamming into the waves.
My forehead smacks against the deck, but I stand and brace myself against the wheel, wiping wet hair out of my face. Between Caelus’s wind and the constant change of the current, the ship has hardly moved. Without another pair of hands, I can’t shift the masts and steer at the same time.
Screeches fill the air, followed by a steady beat of flapping wings. My throat constricts. A flock of massive falcons blot out the sun, each topped with an archer.
Caelus’s air armada.
They inch close enough to make out the snapping beaks of the giant birds. Without full control of my power, I stand no chance against them. And the wall is not nearly high enough yet. My heart thrashes against my ribcage, fingers trembling.
We’re out of time.
An arrow nicks my cheek and burrows into the deck. A warning shot.
“Surrender,” Caelus yells, “and we’ll spare the others.”
I lift a hand to my face, and my fingers come back bloody. Silence hangs in the air, interrupted only by wings growing closer with every second. A decade ago, I would have laughed in his face and sent him to the seafloor.
But a decade ago, I was selfish. I didn’t know what I had to lose. And now—now I have Thea. I have Kressa. The sea.
I’ve run out of options.
My hand drops to my side. The waves calm, barely lapping against the hull, and I let out a slow, resigned breath. If my surrender gives Thea and Kressa a chance at survival, I’ll take it.
A battle cry sounds from the harbor. One I know deep in my bones.
I sprint to the bow as Thea’s feet hit the wooden planks, a sword sheathed at her back. She vanishes, and reappears farther along the dock with a wild grin on her face. She pulls out her blade and swings it in a wide arc. Soldiers fall in her wake, and she disappears again.
Holding my breath, I search for her as the guards and wielders ready themselves. In a flash, she appears at the very end of the dock, her gaze pinned to me as she sprints, faster and faster toward the edge.
Her feet push off the final plank and she leaps into the air, disappearing over the water.
Seconds tick by, and my heart stills as I frantically scan the surface, searching for any trace of her. She’s never crossed a distance this far, and with how weak her power is—
“Looking for someone, captain?”
I gasp and spin around. My knees almost buckle. “Thea.”
Throwing myself from the rail, I wrap my arms around her. My first mate. My other half. Tears climb my throat and burrow into my eyes.
She throws her arms around me. “You did it, Briar. You broke the curse.”
A sob escapes me. I pull back and take in her blue eyes, lit from within. “I told you not to come back.”
“I swore my loyalty to you years ago, and today is no different.” She dips her head into a bow. “Queen Briar, I will stand by your side to the ends of the earth.”
I smile through tears. “And I will stand by your side, to the ends of the earth.”
She strides to the main mast and collects the rope in her hands. “And anyway, you look like you forgot how to sail a ship.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
She smirks, and the wind whips up, throwing my hair around my face. I jump to the helm and grab the wheel. As if she hasn’t skipped a beat, Thea maneuvers the sails with the changing wind and guides us out to open ocean.
She twists, and her braids fly in the wind, a smile lighting her face. “Are you ready, captain?”
I nod. I’ve waited a decade for this.
Hands firmly on the spokes, I press into my power and send it into the ocean. It weaves with the current, dances with the waves. And with half a thought, we gain speed, nearly flying over the whitecaps. The bow skips over each crest, shooting mist over the deck.
Thea leans into it and laughs.
An arrow whizzes past her head.
A dozen falcons dive toward the ship, and panic seizes my throat.
“Hold on to something!”
Thea scrambles for the main mast and throws her arms around it.
I inhale through my nose and release my hands from the wheel.
The sails snap and the ship pitches, spinning out of control.
I burrow my power into the sea and sweep a wave over the ship, into the air armada.
Sunlight filters through the cover of water and time slows as rainbows fracture over the deck.
Falcons screech, and the water throws the riders from their backs, into the ocean.
I part the wave, and the world comes back into view. A handful of riders rear back, falcon wings heavy, sodden.
Caelus’s foot army scrambles from the dock, but they’re met with the growing stone wall—impossible to penetrate or climb. I scan the top, where the tallest buildings in Sarenia still peek through. It’s not high enough yet, but if I wait any longer, I risk an arrow to the chest.
I inhale a breath and still my thoughts. “Thea, tie yourself in.”
She nods, lips pressed tight as she winds a rope around her waist and secures the other end to the main mast.
I blow out the breath.
Calming the waves smashing against the hull, I steady my feet and lean into the tune of the ocean. I cast my power down into the farthest depths and sweep the water from the shore, tugging it to me.
A tsunami.
Shells, small fish, and coral of all colors lie bare on the exposed seafloor, searching for water.
My fingers tremble and my chest grows heavy with the mounting weight at my fingertips.
The ship rises higher and higher on the waves, pitching back and forth in the wind.
I grit my teeth, my entire body taut as I bend the sea.
Under this water, Caelus won’t survive. And neither will Isolde.
A falcon dives toward the ship, its shadow sweeping across the outstretched mast. It emerges from the other side, and the archer releases an arrow. I duck, and it burrows into the wood beside my head.
My power slips, and the ship plummets. We go airborne, and my feet lift from the deck, but I clench my fists and reel it back in. The hull smacks into a wave, and I slam onto the deck as Thea clings to the mast.
The ship groans, and I peer over the edge at the world far below. Eye to eye with the mountaintops, high above the tallest turrets of the castle, this wave could sink the kingdom.
And we sit at the crest.
The falcon soars off, joining the rest of the armada darting toward the group stranded on the dock.
“Briar.” Thea comes to my side, her tone unsteady. The rope around her waist pulls taut.
Below, they load Caelus and Isolde onto the backs of falcons.
“You need to do it, now,” she says.