Chapter Seven
A bloodcurdling scream pierces the night.
I jolt upright, clutching the medallion that hangs from my neck, my forehead slick with sweat. But the screams I hear are not my own.
I scramble out of bed, touching the hilts and handles of my weapons. A knife in each boot, a dagger at either hip, four pistols at my back. But my cutlass isn’t by my bedside where I left it after I returned from my watch.
Another scream rends the air, and my heart skips a beat.
I forgo my cutlass, drawing two pistols as I burst through the doors and onto the main deck, blood drumming in my ears.
Bleary-eyed, I scan my surroundings, fingers hovering near the triggers. There are no signs of an enemy ship on the fog-laden surface of the ocean. No trace of a malevolent Myth ready to shred the Starchaser to pieces.
A gentle breeze brushes across my skin. Everything is still. Calm.
But the unmistakably human scream that comes from belowdecks shatters any illusion of peace.
Jack meets me halfway across the deck, his rifle in hand.
“It’s coming from the brig,” he says as we race to the companionway.
My heart pounds in my throat with every step as Jack follows me into the belly of the ship.
He’s here. Someone left the note—but who? And why?
Gabriel meets us halfway down the companionway, his eyes like saucers, dark hair standing on end.
“Don’t,” he says, his voice gruff. “You shouldn’t see him like this.”
Another scream.
Will.
“Move,” I say through gritted teeth, my grip tightening on the pistols. “That’s an order.”
Gabriel’s jaw clenches. He mutters a string of curses under his breath as he turns, leading me the rest of the way.
My breath catches when we reach the brig, my pistols clattering to the floor as I lose my footing, stumbling backward into Jack’s chest.
“Stars help us,” Jack breathes, and I’m not sure if he grabs my arms to steady me or himself.
In the center of his cell, Will hovers a foot off the ground, his back arched at an unnatural angle. His face twists in agony as he writhes in midair, his bones cracking, eyes wide and glazed with torment, staring vacantly at the wooden ceiling.
“Open it!” I demand, grabbing the iron door of Will’s cell as if I could pry it open with my bare hands.
“You can’t wake him!” Gabriel shakes his head. “I’ve already tried!”
“Open it!” I shout, my voice raw.
“Aster—” Jack reaches for me with a trembling hand, but I shirk his grip.
I draw the third pistol from my back and aim it at Gabriel’s chest. “Now.”
Gabriel frowns as he steps toward me, pressing his sternum to the barrel. Calmly, gently, he says, “No.”
My vision swims as I eye the keys dangling from Gabriel’s belt. He’s here. Someone freed Will of his binds during our battle with the Mythslayer. Someone wanted him to attack me. And Gabriel had the means to release him.
I lurch forward, attempting to reach the keys, but I’m not fast enough. Gabriel catches my wrist, his grip firm.
“You can’t—” he starts.
“Let her in.”
Henry appears at the base of the steps, his hair disheveled, his voice soft with lethal quiet even as he pants for breath.
“You’re a little late to the party.” Titus tsks, and my blood turns to ice as I allow myself to glance at him over Gabriel’s shoulder, leaning casually against the bars, one ankle crossed over the other.
“I’d hold my ground if I were you,” he says to Gabriel even though his gaze rests on me, a lopsided smirk tugging at his lips.
“She clearly can’t be trusted to know what’s best for her, aye? ”
My blood heats, burning like liquid fire, until a bellowing wail is ripped from Will’s chest, and my veins turn to ice. I holster my pistol and place my trembling hand over Gabriel’s, still clamped tightly around my wrist. “Gabriel, please.”
Gabriel grinds his teeth, a cord in his neck bulging as he takes the keys from his belt.
The cell door creaks open, and I rush inside, tripping over my own feet to get to Will.
“Hello, Aster.” A dark, gritty voice that seems to come from both within and without.
I stop short.
“Did you think I couldn’t reach you here?” the booming voice purrs. “Did you think you were safe?”
I brace my head between my hands, trying to block out the voice, but to no avail.
“Aster, are you—” Gabriel reaches for me, but I shrug away from his touch.
“Don’t you hear that?” I snap.
“Hear what?” Gabriel’s brow furrows. “Step back, we need to—”
“No!” I take another step toward Will, and the voice brushes against my mind, an obscene caress.
“You’re almost there,” murmurs the voice—his voice. The Underling general. “Together, we will find the Relics of Night and finally put an end to all this needless suffering. Together, we will shape a new world—a new future.”
I feel the moment the voice releases me from its grasp—gone, like a whisper on the wind. But whatever holds Will doesn’t let him go, as if to drive home a point.
Pulsing black veins crawl up Will’s face, squirming like worms beneath his pallid skin. And his eyes…
His eyes are like two wells of pitch-black ink.
I think of the wards Killian placed around Bludgrave to shield Will from the nightmares he has suffered since the first time he returned from war. But this isn’t an ordinary nightmare.
He’s here.
The Underling general wanted me to know this was his doing.
I haven’t had a nightmare since waking on the Red Island, and though I should be glad, icy dread sluices through my veins.
If only to remind me of his power—his control over me—the Shifter who bit me as a child has somehow shielded me from the terror I often face in sleep; meanwhile, Will’s condition worsens, subjecting him to this state of inescapable horror.
“Will?” I take a step toward him, straw crunching underfoot.
Snap.
His neck pops as he cranes to look back at me, teeth bared. He drops to the floor with a sickening thud, twisting onto his belly. His arms bow as he rises into a wolfish crouch.
I kneel, putting myself at eye level with him.
“I’m here,” I say, my voice hoarse but unyielding. “I’m right here.”
A scream rips from his throat, his body trembling violently.
I grind my teeth, fighting back tears. “Come back to me,” I whisper as I move closer, following a trail of blood that I trace to his fingertips, where he’s dragged his nails across the wooden boards.
“You can fight this,” I say, even as his shoulders coil.
“You have to wake up,” I plead, even though he looks like an atroxis preparing to pounce.
“Annie needs you, remember? We need you.”
He cocks his head. Clicks his teeth.
And I brace myself, shutting my eyes tight as I unsheathe my dagger. Time slows to a crawl, but the racing rhythm of my heart seems amplified by a second pulse that comes alive the moment Will lurches for me.
“Aster!”
His voice.
Titus’s voice.
When I open my eyes, my dagger hovers an inch from Will’s throat.
Green eyes stare back at me, wild with fear.
“Stop,” Will says through gritted teeth, closing his eyes as a tear slips onto his cheek. “Stop trying to save me.”
He scrambles backward, putting as much distance between us as his cell will allow.
“Go!” he growls at me, his voice a low, rough, rasping noise I hardly recognize. “Get out of here!”
I blink at him, my mouth gaping, but he refuses to look at me.
“Please,” he chokes out, his chest heaving with a sob. “Please, just leave me be.”
My cheeks warm as I get to my feet and meet Titus’s gaze through the iron bars. He grips the door to his cell, his brow furrowed. He grinds his jaw, but if he’s just experienced a moment of clarity, it’s since passed, because his lip curls in a sneer before he turns his back to me.
Still, I note the subtle flex of his hand, the tension in his shoulders.
The threat Will had posed to my life had freed Titus of Morana’s compulsion—if only for an instant.
“Come on,” Henry says quietly. “You two go. I’ll stay here with him.” The guttering lantern casts shadows over his scarred face as he offers me a sympathetic grin. “It’s not like I’m going to get much sleep anyway.”
I open my mouth to argue, but Jack places his hand on my back, guiding me toward the steps, and I can’t seem to bring myself to turn around. I allow Jack to lead me back to my room in somewhat of a daze, my heart still hammering against my sternum.
Did you think I couldn’t reach you here?
I held my dagger to Will’s throat. I was prepared to… to…
“It’s not your fault,” Jack says gently, but when I focus on his face, his expression is crestfallen, his lip quivering. He places his hands on my shoulders. “There’s nothing we can do for him. Not until we find the cure.”
I nod slowly, my mouth dry. I know it’s hard for Jack to see Will like this—know how helpless he must feel.
I take the note from my pocket, pass it to him. “I found this in my room.”
He unfolds the parchment, his gaze narrowing. “What’s it supposed to mean?” Something flashes in Jack’s eyes as he passes the note back to me, but I can’t read his taciturn expression.
I survey the deck before whispering, “He’s found me—the Underling general. I think he might be on this ship. Or—or somewhere close by. He’s watching me—he could be—”
“Wait—just wait a second.” Jack takes me by the shoulders again, his brows knit. “Did something happen? Why would you think that?”
“Because—” I start, but as the word leaves my mouth, I take a slight step back.
Because I’m hearing voices? Because he could be anywhere—pretending to be anyone—even Jack?
After all, a Shifter had replaced the maid, Sybil.
What if the Underling general replaced someone else back at Castle Grim and journeyed with us all the way to the Red Island?
“I don’t know,” I lie. “I just… have a feeling.”
He squeezes my shoulders, prompting me to meet his eyes, and my chest aches at the concern creasing his forehead.
“You know you can tell me? Whatever it is, you can trust me. And Margaret, Charlie—all of us. We’ve got your back.
” He lets out a long, low sigh. “You would tell one of us, right? If you were… having trouble.”
I hold his stare, my pulse racing. “I know,” I say, and I cough to hide the way my voice breaks. “And I would.”
He searches my face for a moment longer, and I know he doesn’t believe me, but he offers me a tight-lipped smile as he withdraws. “Sun will be up in a few hours,” he says as he looks about the ship, patting the rifle slung over his chest. “Tomorrow’s a big day. We should try to get some sleep.”
“All right,” I say, my lips twitching as I force myself to return his smile. “Good night, then.”
Jack tips his cap to me. “Night.”
I lock the doors to the captain’s quarters—check them twice.
There, lying on my pillow, is my cutlass. I snatch it up, searching my entire room for any sign of an unwanted guest but find none.
If the Shifter were pretending to be Jack, how could he have moved my cutlass? Jack was with me the entire time I was in the brig.
Did you think you were safe?
The Shifter is mocking me. Toying with me. Just like Owen had done all those months ago at Bludgrave Manor. He could be anywhere—transform into anything. A moth. A bird. A fish. He could have spies everywhere, watching me. Watching all of us.
And still, someone warned me he was here. But who? And why?
I send a silent, tearful prayer to the Stars that my siblings are unharmed, and wonder if, perhaps, I truly am losing my grip on reality.
Still, I sit with my back to the wall all night, my cutlass in hand.
Because if he is here—if he has come for me—then I will greet him with a blade.