Chapter 53 Nerina #2
But I felt the current shift between us. There was no use in celebrating out victory just yet. We still needed to free the others and figure out how to get everyone of the ship without killing them all. Not all the creatures were indigenous to water, some would likely drown if we abandoned ship.
A harsh sound pulled my from my thoughts. Steel clashed against steel. A shout—cut short. Boots thundered overhead. The sound of fists, blades, chaos.
The scarred man jerked upright, bowl clattering from his hands. “Saints’ blood—”
His companion swore, hand flying to the knife at his belt. More shouting rolled down through the boards, the unmistakable ring of steel meeting steel.
“Boarders,” the scarred one spat, eyes wide.
They bolted for the ladder. Boots hammered against rungs. The hatch slammed above us, leaving only the echo of their panic and the muffled war cries overhead.
The shouting grew louder—like a storm breaking loose. My hands shook as I pulled the keys from beneath my hands. They glittered faintly in the dark.
Moriko shifted closer, chains dragging across the boards. “Quickly,” she whispered, urgency threaded with calm.
I jammed the first key into the lock at my wrist. The shackle sparked immediately—Silver Salt flaring hot, burning into my skin like fire pressed against raw flesh. I bit down on a cry, teeth grinding.
“Easy,” Moriko murmured.
The key caught—stuck. My vision swam.
I twisted harder. The edge tore my palm. Smoke curled where salt met flesh and I swore through clenched teeth. The weight fell from my wrist, leaving an angry welt seared into my skin. A ragged sound tore out of me—half gasp, half laugh I didn’t recognize.
“Your turn,” I rasped.
Moriko lifted her bound hands. Chains trembled faintly as I slid the key into her lock.
Sparks flared brighter this time, crackling silver against her river stone skin.
She clenched her jaw, lips pressed tight, but her eyes never wavered.
The lock groaned—resisted—then yielded with a pop. The shackle clattered free.
Moriko sagged forward for a heartbeat, chest heaving, then straightened with a defiant curve to her mouth.
I flexed my freed hand, fire still crawling through my veins, and looked up toward the hatch where battle raged.
My blood sang with it. We were free.
Almost.
Shackles lay at our feet. I rubbed the welt on my wrist, then turned to Moriko. “We can’t leave them,” I whispered.
Her eyes flicked to the others—the Korrathi shifting in the dark, antlers scraping wood. The sea-elf trembling, fins tight with fear. The scaled creature coiled in the corner, hissing low.
They watched us now. Silent. Wide-eyed. Hopeful in a way that hurt. Moriko’s jaw tightened. “Every second we waste, the crack may close.”
“And if we walk away,” I said, “it is a promise broken. I swore I would protect those who could not protect themselves. I will not break that oath.”
For a beat she studied me—measuring, weighing. Then she gave the smallest nod. “Very well.”
We moved fast, crouching low to keep the chains from clattering. I fumbled with locks, keys slick in my burned hands. Sparks leapt as I twisted—Silver Salt biting deep, leaving skin raw and throbbing.
The sea-elf let out a strangled cry when her manacles released, clutching her wrists as the faint shimmer of her fins spread wider—her lungs filling freely again.
Moriko worked on the Korrathi. When the lock gave, his eyes gleamed like wet stone.
He pressed a massive, clawed hand briefly to her shoulder. A vow without words.
One by one, the hold filled with sound again—movement.
Voices. The shuffle of chains falling away.
Hope surged louder than the battle above, rising like tidewater through a cracked door.
I swallowed hard, forcing the last lock open.
The scaled creature uncoiled, muscles rippling.
Its eyes met mine—predatory, but not unfriendly.
Moriko exhaled low and steady. “Now we are many.”
I closed my hand around the keys and found her eyes. “Let’s show them what many can do.”
Iron rang above us. Footsteps. Shouts. The hatch slammed open, spilling blinding lantern light into the dark. I froze with the others, breath ragged, stolen keys biting into my palm. I would not go back in shackles without a fight.
Boots struck the ladder, steel ringing with each step. “Nerina!?”
My chest seized.
That voice—rough, familiar. Relief tore through me so fiercely I nearly sobbed. I saw him in my mind—storm-gray eyes, a crooked smirk, a hand outstretched.
“Ala—” My voice cracked on his name.
The man dropped into the hold like a shadow torn from the storm above.
Too broad for the ladder, shoulders filling the narrow space, eyes like ice lit from within.
Runes inked his skin in jagged marks, scars threading across muscle—every inch of him radiating war.
His body was covered in blood—some of his own, some of it others’. Not Alaric.
Veyrion.
“Neri.” My name left him like a prayer dragged from his chest. He stepped forward, chains at his feet rattling in answer. “Godsdamn me, I thought we’d lost you.” He looked at me like he’d found something he’d been hunting for too long.
Of all the things I’d braced myself for—wrath, judgment, that cutting calm he wielded like a blade—his relief was the last thing I expected.
But there it was. Raw. Unguarded. Softening the hard edges of his face.
I moved to shield myself, small and instinctive—but he was already pulling off his cloak and wrapping it around me.
“I stole your ship,” I rasped, my voice splintering in my dry throat.
His laugh came rough and disbelieving, cracking through the hold like thunder.
“We will discuss that later,” he said, eyes never leaving mine.
“For now… all things considered—”. His attention moved over my burns, my ragged state, the welted skin at my wrists.
Then back to my face, fierce with something I couldn’t name. “—I’m just glad to see you alive.”
His attention lingered one beat longer than it should have.
Then he turned and climbed back up the ladder with that same steady, unshaken weight he carried everywhere. The hatch light carved him in gold until it swallowed him whole.
My legs moved before I could think, keys clenched in my fist. I meant to follow—to leave this rot behind and climb into the chaos above.
But a hand caught my wrist. Moriko’s grip was surprisingly strong for someone half-wilted by salt and chains. Her eyes narrowed. “Wait.”
I stilled.
“Sons of the gods don’t smile at thieves,” Moriko pressed softly. “not like that.”
I opened my mouth—then closed it again.
Son of the gods.
The words snagged long after Moriko released my wrist.
But even as they gnawed at me, another thought struck harder.
If Veyrion was here… Was Alaric?
The idea twisted in my chest. I’d expected Alaric’s voice when the hatch opened. Stars, I’d wanted it to be his—reckless and furious, burning with the need to tear the world apart when he saw me chained.
I’d thought it was him. But it wasn’t. It was Veyrion’s voice that found me in the dark. Veyrion’s eyes that lit with relief. Veyrion’s hand that reached without hesitation. A hollow ache pressed beneath my ribs.
Moriko’s mouth curved. “Shall we?” she purred.