28. L（over）
L(over)
“Tie the sails—anchor drop. Release Plague!”
I opened my groggy eyes. A loud clanging echoed and then a dull thud like something made of heavy metal had dropped. Pirates shouted above, and feet pounded across the deck. Squire hooted, jumping off my lap as he looked up with wide, anxious eyes.
Waves crashed, and the ship rocked as if something had been detached—Plague. Then we steadied like we were being held in place at a pier.
“Ready the prisoner!”
Curious, and expected, use of the singular.
Bright light cut through the gloom as the hatch door opened above with a loud crack. Noise intensified. A pleasant breeze gusted inside.
Calloused hands rubbed my arms comfortingly. Tarantula stared at me pensively.
A pirate climbed down the rickety steps. “The Emperor is ready for ya, lass.” He bared two rotting teeth and stomped toward me. Reaching, he grabbed my arm and—
Crack.
The weight of his hand disappeared as wind flung him backward. Squire flapped his wings with distress, hovering in the air. The pirate’s arm had snapped at the elbow. His hand faced the wrong direction. He collapsed against fishing nets and slid to the floor.
“Do not touch her,” Tarantula said dismissively as he got to his feet and gently pulled me up. He scowled as he studied the cuts on my skin, lifting my hair off my nape to inspect the damage.
The pirate whimpered in the corner, curling into a ball.
Tarantula didn’t seem to notice, too busy tucking a loose tendril behind my ear. He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and placed a hand to my lower back, then guided me up the steps that led out of the hull.
“Careful,” he said, grabbing my arm as he steadied me. “Watch the steps—one at a time.”
Squire settled onto my shoulder as I glanced back at the mutilated man. Tarantula shifted so he stood in front of me protectively, exiting first up onto the deck.
I followed.
“Never make peace with evil,” I muttered under my breath.
“Did thou say something?” Tarantula asked as he held his hand out, waiting for me.
“No.”
Stomach balled with nerves, I steeled myself as I let him pull me out into the light. An ocean stretched as far as the eye could see, and our ship was tied off to a jutting pier.
I inhaled the sun-warmed mild air, savoring the soft floral scents. Colors were richly saturated: the periwinkle sky shimmered with magic, and the frothing ocean was a vibrant, bright blue.
Azote had a dreamy, ethereal quality.
The dock led to a dense forest that was straight from a storybook. The immense white trees were leafless but covered in a lilac moss, and a fog of teal Mist rolled around their trunks.
On the glittering horizon, where the naked trees ended, mountains jutted breathtakingly into the sky. They were far taller and sharper than the peaks in the Barren Forest and had a smooth, rocky white surface with a spattering of greenery.
Straight ahead, a mind-numbingly high mountain towered above the others. Clouds parted at its peak, revealing a grand white structure with platinum spires. I’d only ever read about such a structure in the ancient fairy tales.
It was a magnificent castle.
Are the fables real?
The scale of the structure was truly shocking, but it was the romantic architecture that stole my breath away. No tale had ever accurately described such sparkling opulence.
A bone-chilling roar reverberated as Plague flew above the forest, heading for the top spire of the castle.
Fire exploded into the air, golden scales flashing as she landed atop it.
I felt lightheaded. A cloud of blue ice joined the heat as Pestilence flew up from somewhere off in the distance.
Clouds dissipated as their long tails swung through them.
Plague and Pestilence both wrapped themselves protectively around the largest platinum spire on the castle. Mammoth wings fluttered, magic gathering around their snouts with such magnitude that it formed a silver haze above their heads. They roared at each other.
“Do not be afraid,” Tarantula said quietly beside me, but it was far too late for reassurances.
Down below, a man stalked out of the forest, heading straight toward our ship. He wore a familiar white fur cloak, and a golden mask concealed his entire face. His short black hair was slicked back atop his head.
Ice spread at his feet with each step, thickening as it coated the pier in a light blue sheen. Dagger-sharp icicles formed beneath him, jutting below the boards, breaking off as waves crashed against them.
In my peripheral vision, Tarantula stared down at me. His lips pressed into a tight line as if he was cataloging my reaction. I kept my gaze on the approaching man.
“Welcome, Emperor Aleksander,” a pirate announced, and the dozens of men on board fell to their knees.
They bowed low and kissed the ship deck in deference as he climbed up the gangplank and walked past them.
The Emperor ignored them all. He stared at me.
I straightened taller, clasping my shaking hands together, fingers still glowing silver from proximity to the ocean. His golden-scaled boots clicked against his magical ice as it slowly spread across the deck around him.
Finally the Emperor stopped directly in front of us.
Up close, his eyes were a familiar colorless shade; the opalescence, like cruelty, ran in the family. So does the madness.
Squire trembled on my shoulder, hiding his beak behind my ear.
The Emperor’s cloak hung still behind him, unmoved by the ocean breeze.
No one spoke.
Tension mounted.
A muffled, anguished moan came from below the deck. Off in the distance, two dragons roared as they grappled for dominance, flames and ice exploding high into the shimmering sky.
“Welcome, Zora—to my Empire,” the Emperor said as he opened his muscular arms wide, gesturing to the vibrant landscape. “How was your journey from—”
“Where is my mom?” I cut him off, done playing their games.
Tarantula stiffened beside me, and the Emperor dropped his arms. He glanced over at Tarantula and then back at me. “I shall bring thee to her,” he said slowly. “First come with me back to—”
“No, we make the trade now,” I said. “Me for her. Those were the terms.”
“Ah.” The Emperor rocked on his heels. “But this is Draconis land . . . Thou art no longer in the Commonwealth. We do things differently here. There is decorum, and there are other . . . formalities to honor. We shall bring thee to your mother and—”
“I’m not stepping a foot off this ship until I see her.” I took a pointed step back.
The Emperor glanced again at Tarantula as if looking for assistance. “Then thou will be escorted.”
“No. I won’t be.”
“Ravenal,” Tarantula said quietly, grabbing my elbow as he leaned close. “What is the meaning of this? Obey his order.”
Yanking away from him, I threw my head back and laughed, a broken, harsh sound. “And why would I listen to him?”
A muscle ticked in Tarantula’s clenched jaw as his nostrils flared. “He’s the Emperor.” Silver-streaked wind howled loudly as ocean waves crashed violently against the ship.
I held his gaze.
“Is he?”
“What—” Tarantula trailed off, narrowing his eyes “—is the meaning of this? Why art thou acting belligerent? I thought we knew the—”
“I think you know exactly what I’m doing.”
He smiled thinly. “I have no idea what thou art alluding to right now.”
“Now who’s playing obtuse?” I pursed my lips mockingly. “It’s not very becoming of a man . . . Especially one of your stature.”
He stilled. His head cocked slowly to the side as he studied me like he’d never seen me before.
“No,” he said with disbelief.
“Yes.”
“Thou art bluffing.” He exhaled slowly like he was calming himself. “Thou art just posturing because thou have no leverage for your mother.”
“Ah, there’s that infamous arrogance,” I said as I backed across the deck, the pressure in my skull increasing to a fever pitch as my fingers burned with magic. “But you don’t know me—not really. You never did. That was your mistake. You assumed.”
He tipped his chin down, the bottoms of his eyes yet again in stark relief. “What is your angle, Zora?” he demanded as wind battered the tied sails and the scent of death intensified.
Eyes watering, I bared my teeth. “How about you tell me yours first—Aleksander. I believe they started calling you the Sadistic . . . after we met.”
The ship pitched violently.
Waves crashed against the side, water spraying high and dousing the deck. Pirates near that side screamed as they scrambled on their hands and knees, falling overboard as they tried, and failed, to hold on to the slick railing.
I balanced and kept my feet. Like riding a snowboard.
Next to me, the man who called himself Tarantula withstood the rocking as he shook his head slowly. His mask reflected my determined expression. Looking furious, he whirled on his heel, stalked over to the other Mage wearing the golden mask, and whispered something to him.
The second Mage bowed low, his golden mask dipping beneath his knees with reverence, then he stood up, turned, and walked straight off the edge of the bow, ignoring the gangplank.
Waves froze as they crashed up along the ship’s edge, forming a perfect set of glistening silver-blue stairs. With his shoulders pulled back and posture perfect, the man in the golden mask stepped down his icy magical steps.
When he finally made it to the pier, the crystalline stairwell cracked into pieces behind him, chunks of ice falling into the ocean. As he stalked away, he glanced back over his shoulder, leveling me with a look of abject loathing. He turned and disappeared into the lilac-covered forest.
I exhaled with a strange relief.
It was finally time.
From across the deck, the Mage in the silver mask sauntered toward me. It was the same posh gait he’d had when he was fifteen years old.
I took a step back, struggling to catch my bearings.