Chapter 48 #2
Will opened his valve and then gripped the siphon with both hands as the dark Aether came rushing at him.
It funneled into the siphon with overbearing force, making his boots skid along the wet deck.
Will thrust his weight forward to stay upright as the siphon absorbed the Aether, the suction roar blaring in his ear.
He probably only stood there for thirty seconds, but it felt like an hour for the intense focus it required.
“Done! Close it!”
Sebastian and Crowe joined Will right away, their combined strength forcing the valve to turn. But the dark Aether was stronger than the others, and the valve barely moved.
“Maker above, close it!” Edmund cried.
Will heard something splinter behind them: cracking glass.
Fuck.
If they already had this stupid strength relic, closing the valve wouldn’t be a problem.
“Hurry!” Edmund said.
“What do you think we’re doing!?” Sebastian said, grunting as they tried to turn it. “This shouldn’t . . . be . . . so hard!”
Will squeezed the valve’s spoked knob so tight he was certain he’d be left with a circular carving on his palm. His muscles burned from holding the siphon, trying to close the damn thing, and from resisting the Aether current that wanted to throw him down.
Another crack.
Edmund’s expletives increased in frequency and volume. They were so close.
Just when Will heard the third crack behind them, the valve screeched into place and blocked off the navy Aether.
Will dropped the hose, relief coursing through him as he shook out his arms.
The victorious feeling faded when he looked back at the third canister. It had three cracks down its side, and the Aether churning inside was definitely stronger than the other two.
“Is it stable?” Will asked. Stupid question—of course it wasn’t.
“Hardly. This is why we don’t siphon from the Aether Storm,” Edmund said, breathless. “It’s extremely volatile. I’ll . . . I’ll infuse that one first.”
For the next hour, the Maelstrom circled the storm in a wide perimeter. Edmund carefully controlled the valves, letting in small amounts of Aether at a time. They’d wrapped the cracked canister up in a sail to hold it together. While still unstable, it hadn’t burst so far.
“You’re sure the rain didn’t hurt you?” Will asked Amaya.
She stood under his arm, her arms crossed over her chest as they watched Edmund work. She nodded, pushing wet hair out of her face. It was still raining here on the storm’s outskirts, but they weren’t close enough for the raindrops to glow.
“It didn’t hurt, it just . . . tingled,” she said. “Like my body was an energy field.”
“We’ll be in the pilothouse when we go back,” Will said. “It shouldn’t happen again.”
“Captain, it’s almost ready.” Edmund knelt down by the silver-blue canister and turned the knob, letting the last of the Aether trickle through the hose and into the boneglass pendant’s chamber. “I hope it’s enough.”
When there wasn’t a speck of blue left in the canisters, Edmund crouched by the pendant’s container to watch it absorb the last of the Aether. The necklace, which had already been soaked in Will’s blood and primed with the Aether Edmund had on hand, soaked up the energy with ease.
“Have you thought about a name?” he asked Will.
“Um . . .” Will searched his mind, but creativity wasn’t his strong suit. “Predator?”
“A little on the nose, don’t you think?”
“Relic names are usually on the nose.”
“It’s supposed to turn you into the ultimate predator, right?” Sebastian asked, rejoining them after spending some time at the helm to give Nicholas a break. “What about something like Ultima?”
“It’s a bit much,” Edmund said, scrunching his nose.
“What, like ‘Hellsgate’ isn’t?” Sebastian retorted.
“Ultima,” Amaya repeated thoughtfully. “It sounds like a Class Four.”
“Let’s hope it functions like one,” Will muttered. “Ultima it is.”
At long last, Edmund lifted the lid from the pendant’s canister and reached in to grab the newly minted relic. He examined it first, turning it over in his hands and testing the weight.
“It’s ready,” he said. “Here you are, Captain.”
Will stepped away from Amaya, creating space between him and everyone else, and took the new relic—Ultima.
The pendant felt heavier than it had a couple days ago, and when he put it around his neck, it was strangely warm where he’d expected cool metal.
He turned the amulet over and over in his hand like Edmund had, examining the antique filigree and the boneglass crystal. The gray colors seemed to shift and curl in a way they hadn’t before, giving it the appearance of the jewelry itself being haunted.
Unintelligible whispers swam through his mind like static, and while Will couldn’t tell what they were saying, he knew it was Ultima. Every word was laced with bloodlust and malice, as if the relic already had a personal vendetta against the world it had just been born into.
“Will?” Sebastian asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. “How’s it feel?”
Will barely noticed his friend. Ultima was calling to him, begging to be put to use. His fingers smoothed over the boneglass crystal.
Trusting his instincts, Will brought his fingers together to crush it.
“What did you do?” Edmund cried behind him. But the crystal wasn’t destroyed; it simply cracked, falling heavy against Will’s chest when he released it. The amulet appeared to melt into his skin as the cracks spread outward, tearing across his chest in silver streaks.
For a moment, Will’s body went cold, his blood freezing in his veins. But it only lasted a second before transitioning into raging, predatory heat—like a frozen engine roaring back to life.
He could feel Ultima working to fortify his bones, strengthen his muscles, and harden his exterior like it was upgrading a machine, helping his body achieve its final form of peak performance.
At the same time, the world snapped into brilliant focus. Will could see every scratch on the walls, every particle of dust on the floor, and every individual pore on Sebastian and Amaya’s faces as they examined him. He could hear their heartbeats. Smell their fear.
Each thread of Aether in Amaya’s eyes glittered, and Sebastian had a faint shadow of stubble across his jaw Will hadn’t noticed before. He noticed every loose thread on his clothing and every creak of the ship’s hull.
Everything seemed more vibrant, more alive.
The ultimate predator.
“Your eyes look strange,” Amaya said, frowning. She put her hands on Will’s shoulders and leaned closer, rising up on her toes. “They’re gray.” It sounded like she was shouting, but she wasn’t. “How do you feel?”
“Incredible.” Every movement felt stronger, sturdier. Raw, untapped energy surged through him, ready to explode outward in a whirlwind of violence.
Will wanted to hunt, eviscerate his prey so completely that nothing would be left of Graven. Nothing but singed metal and ash.
He was ready.
“To the storm,” Will said.
“Captain!” Mouse raced across the deck, nearly slipping. “Captain, Nicholas says there are several ships on the radar—following us.”
Rage spun through Will’s psyche, amplified by Ultima. He didn’t know how, but he knew right away it wasn’t the Baroness.
“Is it Graven?” Amaya asked, reaching for Will’s hand and squeezing. Will squeezed hers back as gently as Ultima allowed.
“No,” he and Mouse said at the same time.
“Its signature doesn’t match the Baroness,” Mouse said, panting. “It’s the Royal Fleet.”
“What?” Will’s voice melded with a clap of thunder.
It was Victor Westbrook. It had to be. Maker above, Will was going to enjoy testing Ultima by ripping him to pieces.
“How the hell did they track us?” Sebastian asked.
“They have relics for locating ships,” Amaya said.
“Yeah, so do we, but those have a small range. They’d had to have known the name of the ship and a general direction,” Edmund said.
Amaya’s face paled, and Will gritted his teeth. A flash of irritation blazed through him. “Amaya?”
“There was a letter, on my vanity, when Lockwood came,” Amaya said. “It was meant for you.”