Chapter 26
Elira
“Man the cannons! Get ready to fire!”
Phoenix’s voice rang out above the chaos, sharp and commanding. I didn’t wait—I ran for the top deck, boots slipping on the damp boards. Behind me, Leo bounded after me, face pale but determined, still looking a little too green from the sea.
The wind whipped at my hair as we reached the rail. Smoke curled in the distance. I could see the other ships already shifting—cannons swinging into position, men scrambling like ants across the decks.
They were getting ready to strike.
And we were dead centre in the middle of it.
“Everyone brace for impact!” Slade shouted, his voice cutting through the roar of the wind.
Across the water, a cannon fired—a deep, thunderous boom—and I watched the shot arc straight for us.
Phoenix and Caelen were at the helm, pulling the wheel hard as the deck tilted beneath our feet. But it wasn’t just one ship anymore.
They were all coming for us.
The first cannonball slammed into the water just off our bow—too close. The second struck a ship to our right, splintering it in a spray of fire and debris.
The armada lit up in a storm of flame and iron.
One by one, boats began to catch—floating like blazing bonfires across the sea.
The deck lurched again. I caught myself on the rail as another explosion rocked the waters behind us. Heat licked at my back. One of our ships had taken a direct hit.
Phoenix was shouting commands across the wind, directing the gunners below deck while trying to keep the wheel steady. Caelen was beside him, teeth clenched, one hand wrapped in a bloodied cloth as he adjusted the sail rigging.
“Leo, help with the rear!” Phoenix barked.
Leo hesitated, glancing toward me—always toward me—but then turned and ran.
Maddie stood near the base of the mast, hands gripping the ropes, her face pale with strain.
Phoenix had just turned back to the wheel when another explosion rocked the starboard side. A ship behind us burst into flame—one of ours.
Screams cut through the wind.
I turned and saw it—the fire crawling up the rigging, splitting across the deck like hungry veins. The men aboard were trapped, their sails already turning to ash.
We were too far to reach them.
Unless—
I clenched my fists.
“Use the calm between your heartbeats,” Phoenix had once told me.
“Don’t fight the shadows. Let them follow the shape of your will.”
I took a breath, found that stillness in the storm—and reached for the dark.
Shadows spilled from my hands like smoke.
They surged out across the waves, slithering through the air, winding toward the burning ship. And when they reached it, they wrapped the flames, smothering them in seconds.
Sails hissed. Fire died. The screaming stopped.
Slade stared. Maddie gasped.
But it was Leo who spoke, his voice hollow.
“They saw that.”
I turned slowly.
Across the water, several enemy ships were shifting course. Their bows now aimed directly at us.
They knew.
Phoenix didn’t hesitate.
The second the enemy ships turned, his hands burst into flame. He spun from the wheel and flung a streak of fire toward the closest ship’s sails. The flames caught instantly, roaring up the mast with a heat that seared even from here.
Slade stepped forward beside him, raising his arm—metal around his bracer snapping loose and reforming midair into sharp, curved shards. He launched them across the water like arrows. They tore through the air, piercing hulls and sails, cutting rigging clean.
For a moment—just a moment—we held them back.
The sea boiled with fire and steel.
We were winning.
And then more came.
Three more ships crested the far edge of the bay. Then five.
From the other side, more sails appeared—red and blue banners rippling in the smoke.
Slade’s metal clattered to the deck, his breathing ragged. Phoenix stumbled, gripping the rail, his fire dimming.
“There’s too many,” Leo said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“We can’t hold this.”
Maddie turned to me, panic in her eyes.
“What do we do?”
“Get to land!” Slade yelled. “Make for land!”
From the ship, the land looked so far away. Too far to swim?
“Incoming!” Caelen yelled.
Slade threw his hands up to stop the approaching rounds but there were too many of them. He flung several back but two hit the mark right on the top deck of the ship.
“Elira!” He yelled
And then the world blew apart.
The blast ripped me from the ship, flinging me like a rag doll into the sky—then down.
I hit the water like stone.
The impact stole the breath from my lungs. Cold swallowed me whole—ripping fire across my chest, tangling in my limbs like chains. For a second, I didn’t know which way was up.
The world was a blur of bubbles and blood.
Then—pain. My shoulder screamed. Something sharp had grazed it—splinter? Shrapnel? I didn’t know.
I kicked, hard. Fought toward the light.
Above, voices shouted—muffled, distant.
Too far.
I reached again for my shadows—for something to pull me up. But there was nothing.
They weren’t coming.
My panic surged. Water poured into my mouth as I tried to scream. I clawed toward the surface, chest burning, head ringing.
Then—
Hands.
Someone grabbed me from behind—arms wrapping around my chest, dragging me up. I broke the surface coughing, gasping.
“Elle!”
Leo.
Blood ran down his temple. His face was pale, wild with fear. But he held me like I was the only thing left in the world.
“Got you,” he rasped. “I’ve got you.”
Behind him, another cannon screamed through the air.
Another explosion—this time on the ship next to ours. Flames leapt toward the sky.
Slade’s voice roared from the wreckage. “Fall back! Get to the shore! Now!”
Phoenix was already in the water, pulling Maddie from a broken raft. She was limp but breathing.
I clung to Leo, coughing seawater. My shadows still wouldn’t answer me. My heart thundered against his.
“You’re okay,” he whispered, half to me, half to himself. “You’re okay.”
“Is Maddie okay?” I rasped, coughing seawater from my lungs.
Leo grabbed a drifting piece of wood and pulled it toward us. “Phoenix!” he shouted, his voice hoarse. He pointed across the water to where Maddie floated limp in Phoenix’s arms.
“She’s okay!” Phoenix called back. “Swim to shore—we’ll meet you there!”
I turned. The beach was closer than I’d realised—most of our crew had already made it to land, scrambling over sand and stone, weapons drawn.
Leo started paddling, dragging us forward through the waves. I kicked to help him.
“I’m sorry you have to save me,” I muttered.
He glanced at me, breathless, still paddling. “Never be sorry for that.”
He bumped his shoulder lightly against mine. “We’re both okay. That’s all that matters.”
Fighting the current was exhausting. My arms ached.
“Slade and Caelen are almost to the shore,” Leo said, panting, pointing ahead.
I followed his gesture, catching sight of Slade's broad frame and Caelen's tattered cloak cutting through the waves.
“It won’t take long for those ships to catch up,” I muttered, turning.
The horizon was choked with sails—red and blue banners creeping closer like the slow tightening of a noose. Already, they were too close.
“We need to move,” Leo said. “Now.”
We reached the shallows just as another cannon roared behind us.
The water surged at our backs—churned by the impact—and Leo half-dragged me through the final stretch, arms shaking. My boots hit sand. I stumbled. Gasped.
Slade reached us first.
He was soaked, bleeding from a shallow cut above his brow, but solid—immovable. He caught my elbow before I could fall and pulled me into him, arms locking around me like a shield closing. But his hands trembled. Just slightly.
They moved over my hair, my shoulders, my waist—checking, cataloguing, reassuring himself I was still here.
His jaw was tight. His eyes wouldn’t meet mine.
“I should’ve—” he started, but the words caught in his throat. He swallowed hard.
“You’re alright,” he said instead, voice low.
“I’m okay.” I touched his chest. “I’m fine.”
He pulled me closer—just for a second. A silent, splintered embrace.
Caelen appeared next, limping slightly, his cloak torn and jaw clenched. “We need to move. Now. They're gaining.”
Behind us, the ships were pouring soldiers into smaller boats—dozens of them. Too many. The cliffs to our right funnelled them toward the shore like a trap.
“We can’t fight them here,” Maddie gasped, staggering out of the surf behind Leo, her hair plastered to her cheeks.
“No,” Phoenix said, already pulling his pack over one shoulder. “But we can slow them.”
He turned to Maddie. “Can you buy us time to get higher?” He asked
Maddie narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, eyeing the area. “Abso-fucken-lutely.”
“Do it.” He said.
Maddie took a step in front of us and I felt her magic furl. It was like she was summoning the trees themselves.
The ground shivered under our feet.
Maddie raised her hands, fingers splayed, and the air around her thickened—violet light curling at her fingertips like breath made visible.
The trees answered.
Roots cracked through the soil, ripping up sand and stone. Vines lashed out like whips, slamming into the ground where enemy boots would land moments later. Branches groaned and twisted, forming a snarling barricade between us and the advancing soldiers.
“Gods, Maddie! Where did that come from?” I asked, half breathless. “You’re amazing!”
She shot me a wolfish grin—but it wavered. “I know. Now go!” Her voice was rough, wild.
Her hands were trembling. Her jaw clenched tight. I saw the effort etched into her face—sweat slicking her temples, her whole body held like a bowstring straining not to snap.
We didn’t argue.
Phoenix caught my wrist, tugging me higher up the ridge. Leo was behind me, one hand on Maddie’s shoulder as if to say I’ll come back for you if you don’t move.
“I’m right behind you!” she snapped, her voice shaky, already weaving more roots into the blockade. “Don’t wait!”
Behind us, the first wave of soldiers crashed into the barrier. The vines struck like snakes. Bark split like bone. Screams rang out.
Maddie turned and bolted, hair streaming behind her like a violet flame.
We ran.
Branches clawed at my arms. The ridge steepened. My lungs burned.
But we didn’t stop.
Not when the drums started beating below. Not when the war horns howled.
And not even when I felt that presence again—that watching.
Just as we reached the saddle of the mountain, I turned back—and saw them.
The enemy landing boats hit the beach. Figures poured out in black and crimson armour—Sentinels, Crown soldiers. Dozens. Scores. Too many.
But one among them made my blood run cold.
Before I saw him, I felt him. A black robe. A hooded cowl. A cold, hollow void where something human should be.
Vael.
He was here.
And he wasn’t alone.
“No,” I breathed.
The others slowed when I did, their feet crunching in the wet gravel of the ridge.
“Elle, we have to keep going—” Phoenix said, out of breath.
Leo reached for me. “What is it?”
But I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.
Slade’s eyes had already locked onto the same place mine had. His brow furrowed—like he couldn’t trust what he was seeing. He looked at me, searching for answers I didn’t have.
Phoenix followed my gaze.
Then we all saw him.
A figure at Vael’s side. Tall. Still. Unmistakable.
He was wearing Shade-silver. Not his usual leathers—but a soldier’s uniform. A Sentinel's crest on the shoulder. A blade at his hip I knew too well.
And it was Maddie who said it—voice sharp and raw, like the words hurt her.
“Why the fuck is Thorne working with Vael?”