Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
PHOENIX
Leading the way, Daegel hops out and I follow first.
Our carriage is parked at the edge of the harbor, right next to the water where a small boat with four oars awaits us. With ease, Daegel hops down into the boat and holds out a hand for me. I take it and hop in. The rest of the group follows.
It’s tight as we squeeze onto the wooden benches, our shoulders brushing. Daegel takes two oars and The Giant takes the other two.
We’re on the move in no time.
Tonight is one of those rare nights when the sky is cloudy, the moon hidden behind a thick veil of dark clouds. I can count the cloudy days and nights we had in Ekios on one hand since the day I got here.
My stomach twists, uneasy. I shrug off the prickling at the back of my neck.
It’s good the moonlight isn’t present. It’s easier for us to approach the enemy without getting noticed. Dark water swishes around us as the boat soars forward with The Giant and Daegel oaring in tandem.
When I peek over the side of the boat, all I see is pitch blackness. As if what’s beneath us is a bottomless sea.
Finally, we slow next to a large ship. Daegel maneuvers our boat close to the heavy metal chain of the anchor. Wordlessly, he gestures up. I nod and step forward first.
Daegel blocks my way with his forearm. He points at The Giant and jerks his chin up. The Giant squeezes past me and climbs first. Despite his size, he’s scaling the iron chain with ease.
I can’t believe this.
My cheeks burn, hidden behind the Ezkai mask. If Daegel plays favorites like that, others will start to notice. I’ll have to have a serious conversation about this with him once we’re done with the mission.
Once The Giant reaches the top of the chain and climbs onto the small ledge leading to an open window a few feet away, Daegel removes his arm and gestures for me to move forward.
Protective asshole.
Thank fuck for the leather gloves. The chain is sticky with tar, and stinks horribly. Yet, I climb up quickly using the strength of my legs, arms, and core. Once I’m at the top, I follow the route The Giant took.
It’s harder than it looked from down there.
The ledge is tiny. There’s only space to stand on tiptoes. I grapple with anything to hold on to so I don’t plummet down into the water and announce to everyone on the ship that the Ezkai have arrived.
My lungs heave when I finally reach the window and carefully jump inside. My feet land on solid wood floor with a creak. I cringe, and freeze. Even in the darkness, through the mask, I feel The Giant’s burning gaze on me.
One by one, our group climbs inside. Daegel’s the last one. He takes the lead again, and we navigate our way through the dimly lit belly of the ship.
As we pass the barrels and crates full of supplies, not a single soul meets us. Most of the crew must be sleeping in the floor above us while the others are on the deck.
We approach the back of the ship where the stairs to the next level are. We climb up the stairs, our feet light, backs pressed to the walls. At the top of the stairs is the sleeping quarters.
A few snores come from the hammocks fitted between wooden beams where pirates snooze. Most of the beds are empty, though. Immediately, all hair on the back of my neck rises.
The Giant approaches the first hammock on the left, where a fae woman sleeps on her side. He slides a blade across her throat. Gentle snores are replaced with the gurgling sound of her choking on blood.
Fern and Bloom make quick work of the other few sleeping pirates. Daegel stalks towards the galley to take care of the cook. I follow. A human man with a large belly sits on a low wooden bench, snoring.
Daegel’s lethal in the way he moves, the way he wields the blade as he quickly ends the man’s life without him even realizing it. Right as we turn to go, a young dwarf boy emerges from the narrow door on my right.
He halts, eyes going wide as he takes us in.
He’s young, oh, so young. Not even sixteen years old.
Daegel behind me tenses. Slowly, I unsheathe the blade strapped to my thigh. Kid’s eyes dart to my hand with the blade and then back up to my face.
He shows no signs of fear as he whirls on his heel and darts right back where he came from. Unfortunately, my blade sinks into the middle of his back before he can get far enough.
The lifeless body falls to the wooden floor. I blink. Exhale. Mind empty, I go to retrieve my blade. I wipe the blood off on the kid’s dirty tunic. Sheathe it back in its place.
I’m grateful the mask covers my face so Daegel doesn’t see the war that wages in my features as I follow him out of the galley.
“Some kills are harder than others, sweetheart.” Dad’s eyes were sad that day.
Just like my heart.
I looked at my bloody palms. I was fifteen, right after one of the exams during my Decarios training program. To pass, I had to kill another trainee. Someone I’d spent years training shoulder to shoulder. Someone who was a year younger than me.
“Those hardest kills are ones that shape you the most. You have to be extremely careful about the way you allow yourself to be shaped,” he said.
I nodded, even if I didn’t understand it well then.
But oh, now that I’m an adult, and have killed plenty, I understand.
Once everyone on this floor of the ship is dead, we make our way to the next set of stairs.
Just as I put my foot down on the second step, the shouts reach my ears. Clash of the blades follows.
It’s coming from the deck. The other team is on the ship, too.
Daegel runs up the stairs, and I follow him closely. My heart thrashes, adrenaline that courses through my veins making every sense of mine heightened.
We emerge from the stairs to be greeted by the battle in full swing. About two dozen pirates sway their firsts and swords at the greatly outnumbered Ezkai.
With their masks, I don’t know who’s who that well. But I recognize Roman from his tall and lean frame, brawling with two pirates, an Ezkai Xander fighting on the other side of the deck, swinging his broadsword against three pirates with curved blades.
With a roar, a stalky dwarf charges at me. I unsheathe two blades and flip them in my hands before one lands in his chest, while the other finds home between his eyes. I’m at his side, pulling my blades out before his cold body hits the damn floor.
I glance around. More pirates are pouring in from the dock and from the captain’s quarters. Ah, there he is.
The man of the hour.
It’s not V. But I knew that already. I would have recognized his ship, I have it memorized by heart.
This pirate, whose name is still a mystery, wears a very dramatic bloodred hat with a matching plume.
I fight off another attacker as I consider the best course of action. I could be much more useful if I could use my bow.
With that thought in mind, I run for the shroud in the middle and quickly climb by way up until I reach the crow’s nest.
A petite fae swings her curved blade at me the moment I step foot on it. I arch my back just in time to avoid it. It misses the tip of my nose by mere inches.
Before she can take another swing, I shove her away. She stumbles backwards, hits the edge with the back of her thighs, and with wide eyes full of fear, falls over the edge to her death.
I hear the crack of her neck as she hits the deck below us even from here.
Quickly, I draw my bow from my shoulder, and it purrs in my mind. Its reaction to the violence around us sends a shiver down my spine.
I crack my neck to shake it off and draw the first arrow.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Let go.
One by one, I take out the pirates below. They fall like flies as my arrows strike true.
Ezkai Xander has our target cornered, but the damn pirate is still fighting hard. I pull another arrow and draw the string.
I align my shot just right. No intentions of killing the Big Boss. I only need him weakened enough to give Ezkai Xander an advantage.
The arrow hits the shoulder of the arm that holds the sword. It falls from his hand, clattering under his feet. That’s enough of an advantage for Ezkai Xander.
From the corner of my eye I see two pirates cornering Roman. He’s already bleeding—shoulder and side—his grip on the blade faltering.
Damn it.
The two men are not giving Roman a moment to breathe, swaying their blades at him relentlessly.
I reach for another arrow to find my quiver empty.
“Damn it!” I curse.
I open up my senses. Blocking everything else around me, I reach for Roman’s attackers. My nostrils flare when I find…nothing.
“Fucking Decarios,” I growl.
My hands find the net, and I swing over the edge of the crow’s nest and quickly climb down.
My eyes on the target, I jump the rest of the way down to the deck and push my way through the brawl towards Roman.
A pirate lunges at me.
I gut him.
Another swings wild.
I duck and drive my blade into his side.
The distance looked much closer from above.
One of the Decarios slashes across Roman’s thigh and he grunts. His back hits the wall behind him. But he grips the blade harder and swings it.
“Roman!” I scream.
I punch a man on my left and sink my blade into the side of a man on my right. There’s so many damn pirates. Where the fuck do they keep coming from?
I’m almost there—just a few steps—
A hand wraps around my forearm and I’m yanked backwards. Hard.
I twist, ready to sink my blade into whoever dared to touch me—
Thankfully, I pause just in time.
It’s Daegel.
“What the fuck?” I try to shake him off. “Let me go! Roman needs help!”
“We’re overrun,” Daegel snaps. “They had backup waiting for us. Someone tipped them off. You need to get off the boat. Now.”
“NO!” I try to break free. “Roman’s still fighting!”
“He won’t last long.” His grip tightens. “If you don’t get off the boat now, you’ll die with him.”
His words are as sharp as one of my knives, and they slice right through me.
“Let me go!”
“It’s an order, Wildarrow,” Daegel barks.
His tone hits like ice.
Right then, two fae come at us. Daegel fights off one of the attackers without letting me go. I handle the other.
I turn to Roman.
He shoves his blade into the chest of one of his attackers. The man falls on his knees in front of Roman.
But Roman’s too slow.
The second pirate drives a curved blade into Roman’s gut.
Deep. Horizontal. Cruel.
No.
No.
NO!
Roman’s eyes find mine through the chaos.
My heart drops.
He winks.
And then he’s gone.
A boot to his stomach sends him tumbling backwards, over the rail—into the dark waters.
I don’t recognize my own voice as the word tears out of me, ripping my vocal cords. “ROMAN!”