Chapter 40
Will didn’t know how he made it back to the Maelstrom or how long it took him to get there. He was exhausted, disoriented, confused . . . and furious.
Something had happened back there, but beyond his revelation about Graven’s true identity and Genesis, everything was hazy. He didn’t even know what had happened to Lockwood’s body.
What he did know was he’d found something in his pocket: a crude metal device with a single button. Will felt like he should remember what it was, but whenever he looked at it, he was met with a mental brick wall that prevented him from perceiving its function.
He had to keep it on him, though. He just had to.
Sebastian was waiting by the windskiff landing deck when Will touched down. It was a bumpy landing, rattling his head and sore muscles.
He could practically feel the bags hanging from his eyes as everything stilled. He must have aged ten years in the past ten hours. Will hopped off the skiff and ran his fingers through his windswept hair, tugging at the strands.
“You look awful,” Sebastian said, standing a short distance away with his arms crossed. “But . . . damn, it’s good to see you.”
Will looked up at his friend and managed a tight smile, which Bas returned without question. He pulled Will into a hug and clapped him on the back. Although the embrace was physically painful, it was worth it.
“Graven’s still alive,” Will said, pulling away and answering Sebastian’s unspoken question. “He has Genesis. I stabbed him through the heart and he survived. Also, he’s not . . . he’s Westin Cory, Pearce’s old business partner.”
“I’m sorry?” Sebastian’s eyes bugged. “I mean, I heard about Genesis, but what do you mean he’s—”
“I don’t know, Bas. I don’t know. I knew I couldn’t win, so I ran, and . . . can we do this tomorrow?” Will massaged his temple as he began shuffling toward his cabin, the fogginess in his mind unbearable.
He ran? Will never ran from a fight. And while he knew it to be true, he couldn’t remember making the decision or actually doing it.
Sebastian shook his head. “Will, you can’t drop a bomb like that and then wait until—”
Will stumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and bracing himself on the ship’s railing. The floorboards were spinning. When he opened his eyes again to look up at his friend, he was seeing double. Everything had blurry edges, even his own hand.
“Why is there two of you?”
“. . . Yeah, okay, tomorrow,” Sebastian said. “I’ll walk you to your room.”
“You don’t need to—”
“Yes, I do.”
Will rejected any physical support, but there were worse things than letting Sebastian walk with him. So he nodded and continued plodding toward his cabin.
“Is she safe?” he asked, unable to help himself. “Ford and Crowe got back?”
“Everyone’s fine. A little worse for wear, but fine. The Skystone is back in the vault, and Crowe said they left Westbrook with a broken nose and dislocated shoulder.”
“Her fiancé?” The word was acid in Will’s mouth, causing Sebastian to lift his brows. He stopped, putting a hand on Will’s shoulder and facing him.
“You realize she only agreed to marry him to save our asses, right?”
Will did realize that. But engaged was engaged. If he hadn’t been so focused on Graven, he might have skewered Victor Westbrook with Hellsgate, instead.
What a missed opportunity. Will grumbled unintelligibly at the thought.
Sebastian was quiet for a long moment before daring to ask another question. “Amaya came back with Deadeye. Is Lockwood . . . ?”
“Tomorrow, Bas,” Will said as they reached his door. “We’ll discuss this tomorrow.”
“No! Amaya—”
Will tossed in his bed the following morning, throwing off his blankets.
The smell of smoke dissipated, the heat of the fire in his dream replaced with the chill that accompanied high altitude.
His eyes flew open to a bright blue sky coloring his window—he still hadn’t fixed his damn curtains after Graven’s attack.
Groaning, Will rolled over and buried his face in his pillow to block out the light. A thin layer of sweat covered his body, adhering his sheets to his bare skin.
He had nightmares nearly every night, but lately, they’d been getting worse. Usually they were about his time on the Baroness, where Graven carved him into submission through pain and punishment. But for the past week at least, they’d been about Amaya. About Graven taking her.
Now flavored by the events of last night, his dreams featured Graven stealing Amaya away and enslaving her, reduced to the Aether in her genetic code.
He woke up before he could save her.
It was just a dream, Will reminded himself.
If Graven ever laid a hand on her again, it would be because Will was dead.
He sat in his room for some time before dragging himself up, washing off the remnants of last night, and pulling on a worn-out white shirt and black trousers.
He only laced up his boots halfway, and his hair wasn’t even pretending to be combed.
Anyone who didn’t know what happened yesterday would think him hungover.
He wasn’t sure what time it was, but the mess was busy when he arrived. Ozzie filled Will’s plate with bacon and eggs and toast, placing a mug of coffee in his hand.
“Good to see you back, Captain.”
“Thanks, Oz.”
Muscle memory led Will to his usual table in the corner.
“Well, well. Look who actually slept in for once,” Sebastian teased as Will approached.
Frowning at the comment, he looked down at his plate.
“This is breakfast,” Will said dumbly. He hadn’t slept in that much.
Only then did he realize that everyone else at the table—Sebastian, Edmund, Serena, and Amaya—had salads and sandwiches. That meant it was midday, at least.
A flush crept up his neck. Nice of Ozzie to not rub it in, he supposed.
“Never mind. Room for one more?”
Sebastian nudged Edmund down the bench, allowing Will to take a seat across from Serena. He felt Amaya’s eyes on him, but didn’t dare look up. He knew he wouldn’t be able to look away if he did, and he wasn’t sure where they stood.
Because she hadn’t come back like she said she would. She’d gotten engaged, and Will had little idea what that meant to her. And although she was here now, it had taken another abduction.
Will knew it might have been because of factors beyond her control. But what if it wasn’t? What if she just hadn’t wanted to come back?
She hadn’t necessarily betrayed them, and yet, it still felt like she’d betrayed something.
“Excuse me, Lord Lexington?” Someone tapped him on the shoulder.
Frowning, Will looked up to see a teenage girl in a dirty yellow dress smiling at him far too brightly. Mouse hovered behind her. It took Will a second to recognize her as the other girl Lockwood abducted with Amaya. He’d failed to catch her name, though.
“Who—”
“Lord Lexington,” she repeated, offering a polite curtsy. “Very pleased to meet you. My name is Grace Hargreeves, and it’s an honor to be aboard this fine vessel.”
Her tone was that of a diplomat, which Will found disquieting for someone so young. She extended her hand for him to shake. He didn’t take it.
Grace withdrew her hand, undeterred. “I’m hoping to be of service in the search for the Skyvault. If it serves you, I am nearly fluent in three languages, at the top of my class in writing and arithmetic, and an undefeated junior-puzzling champion at Sorrento’s Premier Academy for Gifted Students.”
She might as well have been speaking a foreign language for all the sense that made to Will.
“None of that serves me,” he said. “Why are you on my ship, Grace Hargreeves?”
Grace’s confidence faltered. “Oh, um, Mr. Crowe brought Amaya and me back last night.”
“Yes, but why are you still here?” The last thing Will needed was an uppity teenager on his ship.
Grace squared her shoulders. “As I said, I desire to be of service. My brother died over this Skystone business, and I’d like to ensure it wasn’t in vain.”
Will’s frown deepened. Her brother?
A memory stirred of Amaya in a blue dress speckled with stars and blood. He glanced down the table to find her staring resolutely at her plate, twisting her engagement ring around her finger.
Will turned back to Grace.
“Camden was your brother?”
A strange shadow crossed the girl’s bright face. Will thought he heard Amaya’s sharp inhale, too.
Grace nodded, sucking on her lower lip. “Yes, he was.”
A sudden wave of sympathy did nothing to change Will’s mind.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. “But I’ve no need for—”
“She’s brilliant, Will,” Amaya said from the other end of the table.
Will clenched his jaw, irritated to be interrupted but somewhat placated by the sweet sound of his name on her lips again. The conflicting emotions bickered for dominance as Amaya continued. “I don’t want her here either, but she might actually be useful.”
“Thank you, Amaya,” Grace said. “Though you could have gone without that second bit.”
“I’m happy you’re here,” Mouse piped up from over her shoulder.
Will shot him a glare, and he shrunk back into place.
Grace and Will searched each other, both of them seeking a weakness to exploit in order to get their way.
Will didn’t need another burden on his crew, another liability.
In the end, though, the logistics were in Grace’s favor.
Returning the girl to Sorrento would delay their takeoff from Whistleton, which Will wasn’t keen on considering he couldn’t remember exactly how his altercation with Graven had concluded, and he was more than ready to wash his hands of Sorrento for a good, long while.
“If you get in anyone’s way, I’ll drop you at the nearest sky city to find your own way home,” Will said. “But . . . very well, Miss Hargreeves. Welcome aboard.”
Grace beamed, bouncing in another curtsy. “Thank you, Captain. You won’t regret it.”
Will was already regretting it.
Serena laughed and elbowed Amaya. “Hey, now we’ve got two princesses.”
“Oh, goodness.” Grace looked bewildered. “That’s very kind, but I’m not—”