Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
I must caution you on your interpretation of your vision in the Waters of Ascendiel. Your mother used to say the souls of the seers were cryptic.
The Centurion rose from the turquoise bay like a golden monument in its sparkling waters.
At twice the size of the Evecta, the waves pushing their way into the sheltered bay did little to rock the massive vessel.
A wooden carving of an elven female, with a crown of flowers atop her windblown curls, and nothing more than a smattering of vines crossing over her breasts and bare stomach jutted out from the front of the ship.
My stomach twisted as I gazed at Queen Antares’s figurehead.
Golden in the bright morning sunshine that had chased the last of the lingering clouds away, the ship floated steadily. Elves bustled on and off the gangplank as they finished loading the supplies for the trip that would take the next few months.
My mouth hung open as they’d loaded large, cylindrical iron weapons onto the ship—air canons, they called them.
I’d only seen them once before in that strange, dream-like state when Cyril had slit my throat.
They’d been on board the ship with that young man with the dark eyes, surrounded by men ready to hurt him.
My heart squeezed for some strange reason.
I’d been told wind whisperers could use the weapons to fire balls of iron at enemy ships if needed. My stomach churned at the sight, but it was nothing compared to the waves of dread and loss that pushed into my heart as I said my goodbyes to Bayne and Tiberius.
Bayne watched from a distance, apology written across his face. Vulcan gripped his hand, his hazel eyes hard on the captain. They stared at each other for a heartbeat, the air seeming to still, before Vulcan finally gave him a curt nod and stalked past me onto the ship.
Queen Antares stood before her court in a soft pink gown that wrapped around her curves, adorned with the living crown of flowers. A goddess of life and light.
Nerissa prowled past the group, the ex-War Slayer hauling a pack of her own.
The queen said, “Safe journey, niece. May we only grow closer upon your return.”
My connection to Nerissa quivered for a moment. Her face, bland yet white with rage, softened as she turned to the queen and sketched a low bow before she boarded the Centurion.
Ronan clapped Bayne on the shoulder as he made his way to the ship. He met my eye and gave a nod as his gaze shifted to where Nerissa stood next to Vienah.
A warm hand clapped onto my shoulder, and I turned to find Drystan.
His lips were drawn back in a half-smile.
He wrapped his long arms around my shoulders in a tight hug.
He’d be staying here. Drystan’s training with Isla had paid off, and he was one of the few magic-wielding humans who had joined us from Odessa.
He’d already trained a handful of Rising soldiers in the lost arts and would stay to see it through.
I squeezed back for a long heartbeat before he pulled away, ruffling my hair.
“I’ll miss you,” I signed to him. “Keep an eye on Ti for me?”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble,” he responded with a chuckle.
I’ll do as I please, Ti retorted.
I should probably offer to pay Drystan…
A bristle of irritation raced down the connection with my caeluma, and my lips tugged upward.
“Try not to let curiosity get the best of you,” Drystan continued with a wink.
I landed a soft punch on his arm as he jogged back to where Bayne stood.
Behind the queen, the group parted to allow Carina through. My mouth hung open as the small, mousy elf, dressed in a conservative, cotton travel dress, shuffled through the crowd with a pack on her back and made her way to the ship.
I blinked and shifted to the side, giving her a wide berth as Kresida brought up the rear. Kresida’s dark brown eyes slashed to mine, and her mouth curved up in a sinister grin before she paused.
The queen’s War Slayer loomed over me, nose crinkling in a sneer as she said quietly, “I may be leaving Lotrennian shores, Bonder,” her last word dripping in condescension, “but I have eyes on both of you.” Her gaze drifted up, scanning the sparse, cottony clouds for Tiberius.
I bared my teeth at the threat toward my caeluma.
“Fuck off, Kresida,” Isla’s clear voice cut in, curbing my anger.
Kresida straightened and turned toward Isla. Though she towered over her small frame, Isla somehow looked down at her over the bridge of her nose.
“Shoo,” she said, flicking her hands in the War Slayer’s direction before Kresida stalked off.
My gaze returned to Isla, who I now realized was wearing a soft green dress that wrapped around her feminine figure.
“What—” I began.
“I have to stay, Lyv. I’m sorry. Bayne thinks he can get me time to train with Khato.”
I opened my mouth to protest.
She cut me off with a swift shake of her head. “Just trust me, okay?”
I swallowed and bit back the tears I knew would start to form if I let her goodbye sink in.
“Come back soon.” She gripped my hand before pulling away.
With a quick look at Bayne, I climbed aboard the Centurion.
Tiberius flew alongside Aquila for the first hour of our departure before returning west. My chest hollowed out as his dark figure disappeared along the gray horizon, a piece of my heart soaring away.
It was odd, being on a ship that wasn’t the Evecta. Even with the massive size of the Centurion, waves rocked the ship as we entered the wild of the Juniper Sea.
Vienah plopped on the bench next to me. “Surprised they felt it necessary to bring me along,” she murmured, eyeing the fifty sailors bustling about the main deck.
“I counted at least three mages.” Her strawberry blonde hair had been braided tightly against her head.
Little wisps of curls poked out of the hood she pulled up against the wind.
“I think your power is pretty coveted, Vienah. Mastering the weather is no small thing. I feel safer with you on board if that makes you feel any better.”
Vienah scoffed but offered a small smile.
“Let’s find where we’ll be sleeping tonight. I’m already exhausted,” I murmured.
The weight of the revelations over the past days settled in my chest like lead, doubt plaguing my thoughts as I replayed what I’d seen in the waters over and over again. Had I imagined that thread?
With Aelius now high in the sky, we meandered through the bustling deck, heading toward the stairs when Kresida’s clear voice cut through the activity.
“Sparring deck is open, deserter.”
I tensed. Nerissa and Bayne had fled with Vulcan and Isla after Queen Antares had killed their parents.
Though the sailors continued their duties, many paused, glancing at the dark War Slayer standing in the center of the prow, the black paint against her face illuminating the whites of her eyes as they cast daggers at Nerissa in close discussion with Vulcan.
The deck quieted as the former War Slayer commander turned her Ravindra gaze on Kresida.
“Bold words for a number two,” Ronan drawled, appearing at Nerissa’s side. His gaze was filled with threat as he scanned Kresida.
Nerissa’s shoulders tensed at his sudden appearance. Kresida’s lips curved into an amusing grin as her stare hopped between the two of them.
“Trouble in paradise?” she taunted, lips turning down into a pout.
Vulcan murmured something inaudible to them both, leading them the other direction. Nerissa looked as if she was about to follow, pulling her lethal stare away from the War Slayer.
“Pathetic. No wonder you ran away,” Kresida said.
A tremor shot down my connection with Nerissa. She was barely containing her power. The only people on this ship who knew her true identity, that she shared the Bellator power with Bayne, were the three of us from the Evecta.
Nerissa stopped, schooling her features into cool challenge as she turned back to Kresida. “Up for a sparring match, sweetie?”
“Deck’s open, old-timer.”
Ronan cut a glance across the deck at me, eyebrows high.
We followed them to the sparring deck at the stern, where Kresida made a show of removing the lethal daggers from her vest, boots, and pants.
Ronan choked as she unsheathed two, thinly curved blades she’d somehow kept beneath her breasts, and a final, small dagger that she slipped from a small pocket between her thighs, dangerously close to the space at the center.
Nerissa watched, a mask of boredom plastered over her face until Kresida finished. She unstrapped the leather sleeve that held her twin blades behind her back before tossing aside four daggers of her own.
I waited for the silent salute that precluded any sparring session, but Kresida leaped on her before I could blink.
The War Slayer was airborne as a black boot flew at Nerissa’s face.
She ducked, swiping out with her own leg as Kresida came down, deftly hopping over Nerissa’s leg.
Fists flew faster than my eyes could register as the pair jabbed and parried for endless minutes.
Vulcan leaned against the edge of the ship, crossing his arms as he watched the two fly through the air. Ronan’s body was taught in a battle-ready stance I’d seen so often. The corners of his eyes creased as he watched the lethal pair throw everything they had at the other.
Ten minutes. Twenty. Forty. An hour.
The sun moved across the sky, a warm golden glow shining off the bright ship. Nerissa and Kresida didn’t stop. Sweat coated the deck, adding a level of slickness the two easily adjusted their fighting styles to.
“The nerve to come back,” Kresida breathed at her, the first words spoken. “To return after you scampered away,” she continued. “Pathetic. Coward.”
She spat the last word as Nerissa landed the first blow, an uppercut that hurled Kresida backward, slamming into the side of the ship.
Kresida snarled as she bounced off and launched herself at Nerissa, knocking her off balance and wrapping her limbs around her.
Nerissa slipped her hold, sending an elbow careening into her nose.
Kresida’s yelp was quickly replaced with a roar as she swung her leg out as Nerissa got to her feet.
Nerissa hit the deck with a thud. Kresida leaped, a wounded wolf, utterly out of control.
As she reached her, Nerissa twisted on the ground, slipping beneath her and wrapping her forearm around her neck.
I waited for the move I knew would come to slip the choke hold. But as Kresida’s hands moved to where I expected, Nerissa’s legs wrapped around the War Slayer’s trunk, pinning her strong arms to her side. Kresida’s face darkened with pressure as Nerissa moved her lips to her ear.
“Call me coward one more time.”
I shuddered, remembering what it felt like to be on the receiving end of one of Nerissa’s threats, with the icy bite of her dagger against my neck last year…
Kresida bared her teeth as she strained to slip Nerissa’s grasp, her hands seizing and her legs flaying in an attempt to wrap around Nerissa.
Kresida’s boots thumped against the deck as a cool calm settled over Nerissa, and she waited for the inevitable tap out. Shaking fingers tapped twice against her calf, and Nerissa released the War Slayer, who sagged to the ground.