Chapter 49
“Will, wait!” Amaya chased Will as he strode down the deck, tugging at Ultima’s chain. “Wait!”
“Wait for what? For them to shoot us down?” Will said, his tone clipped. “Not a chance.”
“Victor is probably on one of those ships.”
“All the more reason to ground them. Bas!” Will looked to his first mate. “Ready the cannons. Full spread; don’t hold back.”
Sebastian nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t you think we should keep some ammo in reserve, in case Graven shows up?”
“Is that what ‘don’t hold back’ means?” Will cut a glare at his friend, who narrowed his eyes in response. Amaya looked between them, certain an unspoken conversation was happening that she wasn’t privy to.
“Aye, Captain,” Sebastian said finally, forfeiting. He turned on his heel to walk away, leaving Will to continue barking orders about preparing the weapons and equipping the shields.
Amaya’s fingers curled into fists.
“Will!” She pursued him, reaching for his wrist and yanking at his arm. “Listen to me!”
Will whipped around, his jaw tight and his eyes like smoldering steel.
“What?”
“We don’t need to engage the fleet,” she said, mustering all the confidence and authority she could.
Will’s eyebrows drew together. “Excuse me?”
“We don’t have to engage them.” Amaya flung her hand at the Aether Storm. They were already halfway to its barrier. “We’re going in there. They can’t follow us inside the storm. We need to outrun them.”
Will held her gaze, and Amaya glared right back.
As if on cue, the rain’s composition shifted.
The droplets began glowing blue when they hit Amaya’s skin, dripping through her hair and down her body like liquid starlight.
The tingling energy trickled down her body with them, from the roots of her hair to her fingertips.
Amaya hadn’t known what to think when it first happened, and she still didn’t. Will’s gaze followed the drops as Amaya extended her arms and let out a shaky breath. There was an argument for the phenomenon’s beauty, but it was unsettling to behold.
And it meant they were too damn close to deal with the Royal Fleet now.
“They’ll still be here when we’re finished,” Will said. “They’ll be waiting.”
“It doesn’t matter. Confronting them now is a waste of time.”
Will didn’t want to give in—she could tell by the tension in his brow and the thin, straight line of his mouth that he wanted to choose violence. But before he gave his answer, they were interrupted once again.
“Captain!” Nicholas, the new pilot, stomped toward Will with a handheld radio.
His eyes widened when he saw Amaya drenched in glowing raindrops, not having borne witness to the first spectacle, but he didn’t stare long before turning back to the captain.
“Communication from the Empyrean—Captain Westbrook.”
The Empyrean.
Captain.
So Victor had finally gotten his promotion. And of course he’d be assigned to that ship.
Amaya spotted the flagship’s outline, emerging from the misty distance. She couldn’t see it clearly, not with the Aether and rain obscuring her vision, but its silhouette was just as impressive as she remembered.
How fitting that Victor should chase her down on the very ship Camden showed her the day he died.
“It’s the fastest airship ever built,” he’d said.
If they were going to stay ahead, they didn’t have much time.
Will growled, snatching the radio from Nicholas and holding it to his mouth. “Westbrook.”
“Lord Lexington,” Victor said through the radio. “You’ve got something of mine. I’d like it back.”
Will’s lip curled. “Certainly. We’d be happy to return your ring.”
“I’m not talking about the damn ring, asshole. I want my fiancée back.”
“She’s no longer yours to take.”
“I have five airships behind me that say otherwise.”
“Give me that.” Amaya tore the radio out of Will’s hand, irritated by the raging testosterone. “Victor,” she said, holding the radio to her lips. “We’ll talk later, I promise, but this is a bad time. Stand down, and I’ll find you when we’re done.”
“Amaya.” Victor paused, radio static crackling. The feedback made it difficult to detect the layers in his tone and discern how angry he was with her, but he didn’t speak her name kindly. “You need to come home.”
“I can’t. Not until we finish this.” And maybe not even then, she added mentally. But that was a problem for later. “It’s important—lives may depend on it. My life, specifically. Please stand down.”
The radio fell silent, and for a moment, Amaya thought she’d won. But then the device crackled to life again.
“Your father had a heart attack.”
Amaya desperately needed to believe the worsening static had caused her to hear him incorrectly. She brought a hand to cover her mouth as her heart turned to stone, dropping out of her chest and onto the floor.
“It happened when you were taken again,” Victor said. “He wasn’t doing well anyway, but it was too much. He’s alive, but . . . he’s in critical condition, Amaya.”
Amaya staggered backward, colliding with Will. He put his hands on her shoulders, steadying her. Her head spun, her thoughts a jumbled whirlwind. Her only coherent thought was one word: no.
No, no, no, no, no.
Victor was lying. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t real. It was a bluff to get her to come home so he didn’t have to return empty-handed and tell her father he’d failed.
But what if it wasn’t?
Hadn’t her father just said he wouldn’t be around forever?
He’d never talked like that before. Had that been a hint that she’d completely overlooked because she’d been so damn fixated on herself?
“Amaya,” Victor said again. “There’s not much time. He just wants to see you.”
“Well . . . well, how do you know he’s still alive?” Amaya said into the radio, her voice high pitched and shaking. “Sorrento is days away!”
“Which is why we have to leave now.”
Amaya cast a helpless glance at Will behind her, who looked almost as stunned as she was. He just shook his head, and she didn’t know what that meant.
Think, Amaya. Think.
She couldn’t go home now. Not when they were at the edge of the Aether Storm. But neither could she abandon her father if he was truly dying.
“Amaya!” Victor’s voice crackled through the radio, harsh and demanding. It made her jump, a panicked whimper escaping her.
“I need to think!”
“There’s no time to—”
Will snatched back the radio.
“You’re done talking to her,” he snarled. “Here’s what’s going to happen.”
Amaya didn’t hear the ensuing argument, too lost in her own tumultuous thoughts. One moment, she was sure she needed to go home. The Aether Storm could wait.
But Graven wouldn’t.
The Maelstrom edged toward the storm, hovering just beyond the strong winds that would undoubtedly suck them inside. Amaya studied it, then the glowing raindrops speckling her skin.
Maybe the conductor would show her what to do.
Amaya took the orb from her pocket. When she opened it, the Skystone glowed bright blue just like before.
But this time, it didn’t just glow.
The Skystone’s light pierced the storm, drawing particles of Aether together like metal shavings to a magnet. A current revealed itself—a path, spiraling straight into the vortex.
“Will!” Amaya cried over the storm’s deafening roar. Wet hair slapped against her cheeks, her skirt pulled in every direction by the wind. “Look!”
Will looked at her, pausing his argument with Victor. He swept his own wet hair out of his eyes and shook his head. “What am I looking at?”
“You don’t see it?”
Amaya studied the current, twisting and shimmering.
Now. It had to be now. This could work, and they may never get another chance.
Victor was saying something as Amaya charged across the deck and grabbed the radio from Will. She didn’t stop to listen and held down the button to interrupt him.
“Victor, we have to go into the storm,” she said with finality. “But stay here, and I’ll come back with you as soon as we’re done.”
There was a brief pause before Victor replied. “How do I know you’re not lying?”
“You have to trust me.”
“Trust you? The way I trusted you to honor our engagement?” Victor laughed, the cruel sound made more unsettling by the distorted radio sound. “Nice try, sweetheart.”
Amaya chewed her bottom lip; perhaps she deserved that.
“Here’s a compromise,” he continued. “I’m coming on board. I’ll fly into the storm with you, and you’ll come home after.”
“Absolutely not. You step on my ship, you’re a dead man,” Will said, gripping Amaya’s wrist and bending down to the radio.
“It’s either that, or we fire,” Victor said.
“It’s dangerous. We don’t know what will happen in there,” Amaya said, as if that would dissuade him.
Was he really willing to risk his life to ensure she didn’t slip away? She thought about it for a moment, but of course he was. He’d hinged his entire future on her and her father, and this was undoubtedly his first mission as a captain. He couldn’t fail.
Victor didn’t respond to her, his next comment directed at Will.
“Make your choice, Lexington.”
The Fleet outnumbered them six to one; they couldn’t waste their resources on a skirmish here. Amaya turned to Will, praying he’d see reason.
“Please, just do what he says. We don’t have time for this.”
A whole different storm churned in Will’s eyes, made gray by Ultima. “I don’t trust him.”
“You don’t have to. Put him in the brig, and he won’t interfere.”
Will considered it, clearly unhappy about the proposed compromise.
“Will,” Amaya said. “I can see a path. We can find the Skyvault. But I have to go to my father once we’re done, and Victor can bring me without endangering any of you. Then I’ll come back. I promise.” She took his hand. “This is my home now. But I love my father, too.”
A stunned expression crossed Will’s gorgeous face, his lips parting. But a second later, it twisted into something pained and conflicted. Amaya knew his fears aligned with hers.
“Trust me,” she implored.
After a long pause, Will nodded, swallowed hard, and spoke into the radio. “You’d better be alone and unarmed, Westbrook. Two minutes.”
They met Victor on the starboard deck. He flew from the Empyrean on a windskiff, his blue Royal Fleet jacket making him hard to distinguish against the storm. His black hair lay plastered to his forehead, his broken nose was crooked, and his eyes were hard.
Amaya had underestimated how much she did not want to see him; her guilt surged alongside intense disdain, creating a sensation that was altogether slimy and uncomfortable.
As soon as he landed, Ford and Crowe grabbed Victor on either side and held him still while Sebastian searched him for weapons. Victor squinted when he laid eyes on Amaya, standing beneath the protection of Will’s arm while luminous raindrops continued pelting her skin.
“Amaya? What the f—” He traced her outline with his eyes. “What’s this, a relic? You look like a sideshow freak.”
Amaya stiffened, not offering a response. Instead, she lifted her chin and closely guarded her expression as Hellsgate flashed in the corner of her eye.
Victor looked from Hellsgate to Will to Amaya, his eyes darkening with vitriol.
“I always knew you were easy, but I didn’t think you could go much lower than the apprentice.” He paused and looked at Will. “Guess I was wrong.”
Amaya flinched at the three-in-one insult, but didn’t deny the implied accusation.
“Watch how you speak to her,” Will warned, holding out his sword. “Unless you’d like to be relieved of your head. Take him to the brig.”
The brothers dragged Victor away, and Amaya took a deep breath as she tried to refocus her mind on the task ahead. The Empyrean was already retreating, going to wait beyond the Aether Storm’s wild winds with the other ships.
Victor’s words rattled around in her mind like ricocheting bullets.
Heart attack. Sideshow freak. Easy. Lower than the apprentice.
Something dark warped inside her, snaking around her lungs.
Will released Hellsgate, but remained just as tense as she was.
“You okay?” he asked.
“No.”
“Can you still do this?”
Amaya sniffed, rubbing raindrops and tears out of her eyelashes and steeling herself.
“Yes.”