54
Malik turned to where Valine’s eyes were trained. “Fuck!”
Calls and shouts went up around the ship as others caught sight of the five ships approaching them from the coast of Cuuevota, the black market’s flag of a kraken flying over each of them. People were racing across the wooden boards of the ship, aethermancers and hydromancers flying up the stairs to the stern, their surviving fulgurmancer ascending the ropes to the crow’s nest. At the top he harnessed himself and then Valine watched, neck craned as he summoned a storm.
Clouds rolled in viciously, the sky bruising before her eyes, the heavens opening, and then they were awash with rain. The deluge was instant, the thunder quickly following, lightning sure to come. Within seconds, Valine’s hair was plastered to her head, the gray, wet world blurring her vision to the following ships. She couldn’t see them, but she knew they were there.
Captain Morgan Yarl was shouting at the mages, realizing he was duped. He needed the mages—especially the aethermancers—to stay on schedule, but he couldn’t be certain that they weren’t double-crossing him, and still working for Cuuevota rather than him. Valine didn’t know if he’d purchased slaves or if these were hired magic users, but regardless of the fact, they couldn’t be trusted. The captain screamed for his original crew to hold the new mages at gun, sword, and knife-point, preparing for any betrayal.
Had the mages powered the sails slower over the hours? Did they ensure Cuuevota could catch up to them? Or were they just so unlucky that there were faster ships hidden in the market?
Valine and Malik were still frozen on the main deck, eyes locked. The downpour made their proximity feel so insular. Valine could see the water droplets on his lashes, coasting down his cheeks, beading on his lips. His gold-blue eyes were alive with fear and anger.
“In case I don’t survive,” Valine said, cupping Malik’s jaw in her hands, his short beard slick with rain, “I love you.”
She kissed him, fiercely and quickly, pressing her soaked mouth to his, pouring all her emotion into the kiss. She pulled his lower lip between hers, opening her mouth to him just enough to brush his tongue with her own. In shock, Malik clutched her face between his hands, warm despite the storm, holding her to him, as if just by prolonging the moment he could prevent what she planned.
“Protect yourself,” she whispered, and broke from Malik, racing for the rear of the ship, pushing past the mages gathered there with blades aimed at them.
Time slowed as she crossed the deck. The rain lashed her in freezing sheets as her boots determinedly clomped, eating the distance between her and the sea. Her blouse was stuck to her like a second skin, her hair plastered to her cheeks and tossed to the wind.
Lighting struck the water between them and the approaching ships. With their speed, Valine could now see them through the storm. The water was working up a vigorous froth, the waves churning against the hull, water splashing over the sides. The scent of the air was thick with voltage and brine, the atmosphere of chaos palpable.
Valine approached the rail at the lowest point, staring down the five ships. They were black and sleek, built for speed and aggression, and the white and black flag was a stark reminder of the brutality of the market. The black market was reprehensible for a reason, and double-crossing was one of them.
A laugh sounded behind her.
Valine whirled to find the woman who’d greeted them on the docks, the scar bisecting her brow divulging her identity quickly. She hadn’t said much of anything on the docks, but here it was clear that she was someone important. She wore hydromancer garb, but Valine deduced that was probably a guise. A pirate held her in a crushing embrace, restricting her with a blade against her jugular.
“You truly thought that Thiandra was just going to give you the Call of the Phoenix?” the woman asked, her black hair slashing dark lines on her cheeks. “You are more foolish that I thought. But you believed them so readily.” She fake pouted. “Some sad secrets and you were putty in their hands.”
Valine gritted her teeth. “You talk a lot for someone who has a knife against their throat.”
The woman shrugged. “I’m not the one who is going to be hunted and drowned.”
“Because a slashed throat is so much more appealing.”
“Oh, Ula here is just pretending,” the woman revealed, showing startlingly white and straight teeth. “Isn’t that right, darling?”
The pirate holding a blade to the woman’s throat smiled and dropped it. “It’s true,” she told Valine shrugging. “I belong to Alvah, and I’ll follow her anywhere.”
Alvah cupped Ula’s cheek and she leaned into it. Ula was giving Alvah sickeningly devoted eyes, and if they were under better circumstances, Valine would’ve had to fight off a gag, but as it was, a storm was raging and ships were ready to attack.
“Sorry to do this, but Thiandra commanded me and I must follow through,” Alvah said, stepping closer to Valine. Valine backed up while the pirates around them slowly realized the turning tables. Mages were turning on pirates, pirates turning on crew. No one was able to help as chaos broke out as steel rung loud and gunfire cracked. It quickly transformed into a bloodbath. “Thiandra saw the horror you will bring; they decided you must die for the greater good.”
Valine hardly let this information sink in as Alvah lunged at her with a blade extended. Valine dodged, sliding across the deck. With panic coursing through her, she tried to untangle the threads of her necromancy, all the caught-up tethers, as Alvah slashed again. Valine threw herself against the rail, her lower back smarting against the pain. She gritted her teeth as rain chilled her bones.
“Tell Thiandra they can have the fucking Call!” Valine shouted as the blade came down again. She rolled across the deck, her hand sliding across a broken spindle, opening up a deep gash. Pain fired through her hand, blood pouring out and down her wrist. She hissed as she came up on her feet, digging through her bag until she found the newly familiar warmth of the Call. Thrusting it out, she offered it. “Here! Just take it!”
Alvah’s eyes widened. “Don’t touch that!”
As Alvah shouted, a massive wave hit the side of the ship and sent it careening to the starboard side. Valine and the Call went flying across the deck. The necklace skittered away, bumping against a rail, precariously balanced and threatening to weave between the railing and into the sea. Valine crawled for it, leaving blood on the rain-soaked deck, lancing pain arrowing through her palm as she dragged herself to the Call. She caught it before another wave could toss it further.
“No!” Alvah screamed as Valine’s bloody palm made contact with the Call of the Phoenix.
Valine felt fire erupt in her veins, a conflagration exploding within her. The inferno in her blood had her rising on her toes in agony, her mouth opened in a silent scream. Her arms were outstretched, the Call of the Phoenix dangling from her bloody fingers. She thought she was dying. Everything was pain and fire and flame and agony.
“Valine!” Malik yelled, crashing onto the deck, engaging in battle.
He fought gracefully and gracelessly, formal training interspersed with blind panic. He slashed with a short sword as often as he shot with his pistol. The crack of the gun was an echo of thunder, the dropping bodies a whisper of it. Her king fought through the throng of betrayers against the tide of swords and hail of bullets.
“Starboard incoming!” the fulgurmancer shouted from the crow’s nest.
It was too late. Valine was going to die, one way or another. And she wasn’t ready.
A sudden force crashed against their ship, the groaning of wood hideously loud as the immensely long spear of a bow plowed through the Tempest. Valine was tossed off her feet and into the furthest rail of the highest deck. She hit, abdomen curving over the rail while the rest of her body continued moving, the Call launching from her grasp. The fire left her body as the Call vanished from her grip, but the wind was utterly knocked out of her. Valine collapsed backward against the deck, gasping for breath. In the space of seconds, she thought she was dying again.
Malik was tossed to the deck near her, the King of Adraali slowly rising to all fours, searching for her. His eyes were bleary, but when they caught sight of her, relief bloomed. He slipped as he got to his feet but raced for her, covering her against any onslaught.
Freyja ascended the stairs, jumping two and three at a time, blood mixing with the white blonde of her hair as she cast her hands to the destruction around them. She threw a hand at a charging pirate and tore him in half with her magic, the feat costing her greatly as the ruinmancy wavered.
“Valine!” Freyja shouted. “Now!”
Valine watched as Freyja’s magic flowed out of her, mending the Tempest from the warship’s attack. She had to blink away the confusion when she saw not the sleek black body of Cuuevota’s ships but the blinding white and obnoxious gold filigree of Talloh’s ships. The realization was cemented by the lavender flag depicted with a white palace crowned by three violet moons thrashing in the storm.
They were being attacked on two different fronts.
Talloh was attacking them. Amaris didn’t believe them. Amaris allied with Runell. She had lied. They had been followed.
Valine felt her rage erupt within her, and she flashed her dark eyes onto Alvah. She was just stirring from the deck, a hand to her head. Grinning the smile of a daemon’s daughter, Valine reached out for Alvah’s life and simply snipped it. Alvah crashed to the deck among the bodies lying around them.
The deck was slick with blood and water, but Valine made her way, blood-soaked and drenched to the very stern of the ship, Malik following, walking backward with a pistol extended. The lantern was swinging wildly behind them, and the five black market ships were dangerously close. Freyja was doing everything in her power to mend the ship, but her power was waning, and Valine needed to act before the cannons were brought out.
Mages were killing in droves. Hydromancers were sending torrents of water down throats and drowning their crew on deck. Aethermancers were depriving them of oxygen while flashes of light blinded others. On the Tallohian ship, she saw pyromancers readying their flame, hands engulfed and ready to launch.
“You can do this,” Malik told her reassuringly. She knew that he didn’t know exactly what she was planning, but he believed in her regardless of this knowledge. “Whatever you need from me, I give it to you."
Emotion surged within her and she reached with her necromancy, creating another tether with Malik. Her magic probed against him until it slithered through the crack in his Veritasium Medallion and into his heart. He jolted when she made the connection, but it was slight, and she soothed the pain with a soft look of apology.
Extending her hands out by her hips, Valine pulled on the deepest tethers, swaying with the waves. She gritted her teeth and strained her jaw, working the magic, fingers twisting and curling, arms raising. She felt the awareness in her tethers snap to attention and Valine directed a cue to the tethers.
Destroy them.
As she released the order, monstrous tentacles shot from the dark of the sea, wrapping around a Cuuevotan ship and swallowing it beneath the waves. Three more tentacles lashed out at the other ships and a large, heaving body pulled itself from the water, black smoking necromancy wreathing it. Violent red eyes peered up over the waves as the kraken’s massive mouth began devouring another ship, crunching as the gargantuan fangs punctured through every layer of the vessels.
Screams and shattering wood sounded, and Valine saw more than one unlucky soul throw themselves into the mercy of the sea. Aenon, saint he be, was not merciful when it came to his oceans, and with the manipulation of the fulgurmancer above them, those lives were about to be forfeit.
Tugging on a second tether, Valine directed her second kraken to the Tallohian ships. She didn’t know how many there were, and the vicious rains made it difficult to deduce. Lightning shot from the sky and shattered a mast on the attacking Tallohian warship, the wood toppling into the sea, and the sails dragging down with it.
With the help of the fulgurmancer and Valine’s kraken, they decimated the attacking forces. She didn’t think she would get the screams of men and the shriek of wood out of her mind. It took only minutes, and all the Cuuevotan and Tallohian ships were sunk, barely there survivors clinging to shipwrecked pieces, blood staining everything.
When they had served their purpose, Valine cut the tethers on the kraken and let their monstrous corpses sink to the bottom of the sea.
All her energy left her, and she started sliding to the filthy deck. Malik caught her around the middle, his hand going to her cheek. The storm still raged around them, but seeing the king look down on her with such concern, devotion, and fear…Valine couldn’t imagine a more perfect moment.
“I love you, too,” Malik whispered.