Chapter 28
Will had started to hope he’d been wrong about Graven following them now that he needed to stage a prison breakout.
But no—dealing with one thing at a time would be too easy.
He stalked into the tavern and past the anxious innkeeper to the table in the corner currently occupied by Graven’s spymaster.
He stood out among the other guests like a wolf among sheep, not even bothering to disguise himself.
But the scarring burned into the left side of his body was new.
“Vesper,” Will said, approaching the other side of Corsair’s table and leaning on the chair. “You look more like a walking corpse every time I see you. I’d be happy to put you out of your misery.”
“Always a pleasure, William,” Vesper said dryly. His sneer was like a smile gone wrong.
“I don’t have time for this today, so what do you want?” Will asked. Shadows gathered around his fingertips, ready to summon Hellsgate. “How did you find us?”
“One question at a time, please.” Vesper sighed and reclined in his chair as if this was a casual meeting, tapping Silence’s claws on the table in a distracting, offbeat rhythm.
“Lord Graven sends his regards, and asked me to communicate that we don’t need to do this.
Simply return what you stole, and all will be forgiven. ”
“I didn’t steal. My crew bested your ships, twice. We earned everything we took.”
“Sit down. Let’s discuss this like civilized men.”
“We’re not civilized men.”
Corsair folded his arms. “In case you need a reminder, getting into the Skyvault is not an optional excursion for Alastor. He will succeed. And you’ll make things a hell of a lot easier for yourself if you surrender now.”
“Surrender isn’t in my vocabulary, Corsair.”
“It should be,” Vesper said, cold and matter of fact. He stood, leaning across the table. “Look at my face,” he snarled, jabbing a finger at the burns marring his translucent skin. “You want to know what happened?”
Will scanned him up and down. “It looks like Stormfist happened.”
Graven’s lightning-wielding relic was more than capable of inflicting such an injury. Will had a patch of scars on his back that were similar.
“You want to know why?”
“Honestly, Vesper? I don’t care.”
Corsair slammed a fist down on the table, rattling it. The few remaining patrons who weren’t already looking at them turned then, the entire room appearing frozen in time. Will wasn’t concerned about Forthstead’s authorities, but the attention still made him antsy.
“Because I left the Skystone on the Bitterwind,” Corsair said. “And he’ll finish the job if I fail again. Then he’ll do the same to your pretty face.”
Will was well-acquainted with the punishments Graven dealt to those who failed or wronged him. During his time on the Baroness, Will had often feared for his life when he couldn’t meet the sky-high expectations.
For a second, he almost pitied Corsair. Will had found a way out from beneath Graven’s electric thumb, but Corsair was still trapped, and the man didn’t even realize he was in a cage.
Will took the empty Skystone locket from his pocket and flung it across the table, metal clattering on the wood.
“There’s your Skystone,” he said. “I don’t want it. Take it and leave.”
Vesper closed his hand around the locket but didn’t open it. Good. Will had to whisk Amaya away before Corsair realized it was empty.
“That’s a start . . .” Corsair said, tucking the necklace into his coat. “But he wants the girl, too. He won’t hurt her if she cooperates.”
Will bristled, Hellsgate snapping into his hand at the mention of her. The screams of the other guests bounced off the tavern walls as they began flooding the exits, understandably terrified by the unnatural sword.
“You’re not getting her. Another word about it, and I’ll end you right here.”
There was nowhere for the coward to run this time—nowhere Will couldn’t follow.
He wondered if Amaya would find relief in knowing Corsair was dead. Or would she look at him the same way she had when he’d threatened that lieutenant? He didn’t want her to look at him like that ever again.
But Will knew what he was, and Corsair wasn’t going to be the first villain he spared. People like Will existed so people like Amaya were free to live with pure consciences and clean ledgers.
“You can waste time trying to kill me,” Vesper said, his voice taking on a new edge. “But I’d recommend getting back to your ship.”
Will shook his head. The Coil was his priority right now. “I don’t need to—”
“You grounded one of our ships, we grounded one of yours. It’s only fair.”
Those words caught Will’s attention. Suffocating dread and disbelief rooted him in place.
Corsair couldn’t be serious. Ground the Maelstrom? Vesper’s lips curled into an evil grin.
“You’re bluffing,” Will said, because the alternative wasn’t a scenario he had space for.
He’s lying. He’s lying. He’s lying . . .
“Yes, I’m bluffing. And that little bird of yours isn’t trying to eavesdrop on our conversation.”
His phrasing made Will’s stomach drop all over again.
Bird? He hadn’t called Amaya that until just a few minutes ago.
How much had Corsair heard? Did he know the truth about the Skystone’s location?
Will fought the urge to look at the locket and give away his thoughts, and didn’t need to check behind him to know Corsair spoke the truth about Amaya.
He’d never really expected her to stay in the room.
A vision of his ship reduced to nothing more than a pile of scrap metal, his crew either dead or fighting for their lives, invaded his mind like a cancer. They needed to get out of here. Now.
Corsair grinned, the disfigured side of his face twisting. “A good captain always goes down with his ship. You might be sorry you didn’t.”
With that, Corsair snapped his clawed fingers and vanished.
Will knew Vesper was still there, but he was right about one thing: pursuing him now would waste valuable time. So Will controlled the urge to give chase and took the opening.
“Amaya!” he called, rounding the corner to the hallway. “We’re leaving!”
To Amaya’s credit, she was right there, ready to go.
He grabbed her hand, leading her out to the stolen motorbike while keeping a sharp eye out for Corsair.
There were two bikes now, and Will had an inkling he knew who the second one belonged to.
Hellsgate stayed in his hand, ready to be used at a moment’s notice.
Corsair materialized right as Amaya got on the bike, lunging for her with his vicious claws.
She shrieked and ducked, Corsair swiping dangerously close to her hairline.
Will brandished Hellsgate and took a swing, which Corsair deflected with his own blade.
Then he drew a pistol from his belt and took aim, firing.
Sixth Sense pulled Will to the side, allowing him to dodge the bullet. But Amaya couldn’t dodge attacks; he had to get her out of here.
First, he needed to make sure Corsair wouldn’t shoot her in the back.
Will used Hellsgate to get a new angle on Corsair’s gun arm, zipping to his other side in a plume of smoke. With a crude, but effective attack, he brought Hellsgate down on Corsair’s wrist, cutting through muscle and bone until a severed hand lay in the dirt—along with his pistol.
Corsair’s agonized wail gave Will enough time to swipe the pistol and make sure Amaya was on the bike before settling into the front seat. He revved the engine as Corsair, hunched over and groaning in pain, clambered for his own bike.
Since her swim ruined the last one, Will passed Amaya the new gun. “Can you shoot?”
“What?”
“I need you to shoot, Bluebird.”
She didn’t look sure, but she nodded, closing her hand around the pistol and extending her arm behind them while Will sped away.
The sound of another engine wasn’t far behind; Corsair must have snagged a newer model.
Even though they’d gotten a decent head start, it sounded like he was getting closer.
“He’s gaining!” Amaya called, confirming Will’s fears.
“And you’re not shooting!” he shouted back.
Amaya finally fired the gun one, two, three times. Even with Eagle Eye, being on a moving vehicle while shooting at another moving vehicle wouldn’t be easy for a novice. Six shots in, Will worried she’d run out of bullets.
But then he heard the screech of stalled wheels on dirt, a garbled cry of pain, and a distant crash. The second engine fell silent.
“Amaya?” Will turned his head to see behind them, but it made the bike swerve, so he fixed his gaze ahead instead.
“I think I got him,” she said. “He fell.”
That didn’t mean he was dead, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t. Amaya’s heart beat against his back, its pace frantic.
“Are you okay?” It sounded pathetic, but Will didn’t know what else to say.
“Not really,” Amaya said, her voice cracking. “What did he say? I couldn’t make it out.”
She adjusted her position behind him, wrapping one arm around his torso and squeezing. It was almost a hug—Will would die before he confessed how much he needed one of those right about now. But even the warmth of Amaya’s touch didn’t quell the raging storm inside him.
“He said they attacked the Maelstrom,” he said, gritting his teeth.
Amaya drew in a sharp breath, her heart beating even faster.
“He may have lied,” Will said, desperate to believe it. “And you . . . you did what you had to do. He might still be alive.” He couldn’t imagine it sat well with her knowing she might have just killed a man, given their earlier conversation.
“I hope he isn’t,” she said, surprising him.
Will wasn’t sure he believed her; taking a life for the first time wasn’t something people got over in minutes. But Amaya reached her other arm around him, showing the pistol he’d taken off Corsair.
“He killed Camden with this gun.”