Chapter 41
CHAPTER
Ice sank into Reid’s veins.
The cold was so stark, so suffocating, it took a moment to realize he was still alive. Black water raged around him, turbulent, the sea roaring with its power. Reid plunged down into the freezing abyss, falling into its unforgiving depths until the world around him went quiet.
Through all that violence, there was a moment of peace. A moment where he was aware of Vaasa’s hand in his, of the fact that she had jumped, that she had never let him go.
And then the tide ripped them apart.
The world sped up, and frigid water broke through his mind’s calm. Reid’s body screamed against the impact of the ocean. His lungs strained for air. His back slammed against the rocks and arched with the impact.
He broke the surface and sucked down breath but was quickly pulled back under by the waves. He had minutes before the freezing water killed him. Before it killed Vaasa. Before their bodies slowed and stopped, unable to cope with the cold. He had hoped this wasn’t trading one death for another.
Reid launched his body through the water. He kicked and swam, cutting the waves like a razor blade, determination filling him where the peace had been. Water blurred his vision, stung his eyes, but he pushed through the waves with each ounce of strength he still had.
He whipped his head around and found Vaasa clinging to Amalie’s body, whose white eyes had ceased to gleam.
She was limp in Vaasa’s arms, and his wife dragged her through the water, both of them struggling to stay afloat.
A tender quickly approached them. Panic rose, but then red hair bobbed from the side of it.
Members of Sachia’s crew reached into the water and plucked out Vaasa and Amalie.
Reid forced his arms to move even as waves crashed over his head. His hands slammed into wood, and then Joná? grabbed at his arms and pulled. Reid’s shoulders ached against the pressure. Hands pawed at his legs, then grabbed ahold of the fabric of his stolen breeches in a death grip.
With one more tug, Reid flew up and out, midsection slamming against the lip of the boat and promising a bruise. He tumbled over and into the space between benches, staring up at the sky as he heaved in breaths. Blankets were immediately thrown on him.
Sachia looked to Reid at the same time Vaasa gripped the side of the boat, her knuckles going white. Magic licked the wood around her hands. She stared up at the bridge, at the body standing so close to the edge.
Roman.
Something broke on Vaasa’s face: fear, betrayal, and then… guilt. He didn’t know what happened in that room, how Lord Karev had ended up swinging from ropes in the public square; all he knew was that his wife shook. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from where Roman stood on that bridge.
Reid leaned into her, and she went rigid.
Magic dipped over the side of the boat. More blankets were tossed at everyone, an almost useless counter to the ice, but it was just enough.
Reid’s gaze roved over Amalie first, who was laid down in the center between two benches, eyes closed, unconscious.
It still didn’t make sense to Reid—how long had Veragi been there?
What had she done to Amalie? All this uncertainty felt heavier than the water-soddened clothing—he knew nothing.
Vaasa’s magic curled over the lip of the boat and leaked into the water around them, covering the ocean like fog. Reid shivered and rocked, keeping his eyes on it as it extended far past their boat. As it covered the waves in nothing but pitch-black smoke.
“What’s happening?” one of the crew members whispered, eyes caught on the tendrils of magic rolling over the ocean.
“Get us out of this water,” Sachia snarled to the men rowing.
The boat picked up speed, cutting through the magic and waves.
The black mist on the ocean writhed. It was a thick layer, eerie and creeping, spreading all around them. Vaasa’s chest rose and fell. She stared at the bridge, then Amalie, then back to the bridge. Reid placed his hand under her chin to softly turn her face to him.
“Eyes on me, Wild One,” he whispered.
She exhaled, finally looking at him. There was hurt, even vulnerability, on her face, her mask slipping ever so slightly for him. But she still steeled herself in that infuriating way of hers, and this time he understood it.
This was the only way she knew how to survive.
“Reid,” Sachia snapped.
He whipped his head to where the pirate pointed, to the group of five or so Asteryan naval vessels that plowed through the water toward them.
“Shit,” he cursed.
“Faster,” Sachia said, still rocking back and forth slightly to warm herself.
The ships behind them gained speed. Reid pulled Vaasa closer.
The Red Corsair came into view in front of them, grand and beautiful, red sails billowing in the icy wind.
Someone stood on the edge, a silhouette of strong shoulders and a wild mass of blond hair that blew in every direction.
A thick cloak draped over her body. She paced in front of the railing, then froze.
His mother.
Their boat bumped against the side of the ship, and a rope ladder careened down the side.
Koen peered over the ship, and even in the dark, Reid could see the way his friend’s eyes locked on Amalie.
One arm was in a sling, the other holding a spyglass.
“More blankets!” Koen yelled the moment he was aboard.
“Go,” Reid said, hauling Vaasa up and forcing her to climb.
Vaasa was out from the blankets without a care for the cold.
Their small boat rocked, and Vaasa gripped the ladder, hauling herself up each step.
Her foot slipped, causing Reid’s heart to shoot into his throat, but she caught her balance and kept gaining height.
Hands reached down and gripped his wife’s shoulders, hauling her up onto the ship, and she tumbled out of view.
“Go,” Sachia told him.
He stood and the boat rocked, but he pulled Amalie up and over his shoulder, leaving himself only one arm to climb the ladder.
It was all he needed. Reid hauled himself up despite the way his frozen limbs fought each strain and pull of muscle.
He carried himself and Amalie up as quickly as he could, lifting the witch into the waiting arms of the crew members at the top.
Koen reached with his uninjured arm. Reid pulled himself onto the deck at the same time a female crew member ran with Amalie’s limp body into one of the private quarters—Joná?’s, Reid realized.
“Our exit is blocked,” Koen said, pointing to the other side of the Iron Bay, where the Asteryan city guard had created a line of ships.
A barricade to anyone exiting the bay. No doubt they were looking for him.
For Vaasa. Reid whipped his head to the only unimpeded exit, the place the Asteryans had never been able to navigate by ship, a place only pirates dared to go.
A passageway no doubt crawling with the very pirate crews that wanted Sachia dead.
An enormous iron statue guarded the entrance, Vaasa’s grandfather’s face lit in the moonlight, but no boats blocked the path.
The Loursevain Gap.
“Move!” Sachia barked as she threw herself onto the deck. “We’re going to have to go through the Gap.”
The boat lurched, and panic broke Reid’s position. He chased Sachia across the deck, glancing back at Vaasa for a moment before asking the pirate “Are you sure about this?”
“I have to be, it’s the only fucking way out.”
“Sachia—”
“What?” she snapped.
“Are you okay?”
She skidded to a stop. Pain unraveled on her face, and after a moment, Sachia turned to the sea and screamed into the air, her grief pulsing around them in a terrible ache that spun around the ship.
The Red Corsair lurched toward the Loursevain Gap, and an explosion rang from behind them. Reid turned to see a large metal ball slam into the ocean near them, a splash ringing.
Another explosion. Sachia lifted both of her hands and curled them into fists sharply. The ball of metal flew to the left, careening into the waves.
The five Asteryan ships still chased them.
He had a sinking feeling they would follow them into the Gap, that this chase would last for longer than they could survive it.
He surveyed the entrance, the ships that now raced to block their path, and caught his gaze upon the imposing iron tower thrusting a sword into the sky.
“Bring down the tower,” he said on a breath. “We have to bring down the tower.”
He turned to Sachia, who slowly pulled in breath. In and out. In and out. Her magic might be their only chance.
“The tower!” Reid yelled.
Vaasa stepped forward and silently extended Sachia a hand.
Magic coated it, spilling from Vaasa and coating the deck just the way she had coated the ocean.
His mother joined her, both witches holding out a hand for Sachia to take.
The pirate looked at them. Her eyes darted between their outstretched offers.
“Together,” Vaasa said to her.
“Together,” his mother said.
Sachia gripped their hands.
Vaasa’s magic spread from her body. She walked past them all, her hand still in Sachia’s, who led Reid’s mother behind her.
The three witches ascended the steps to the highest deck, walking as far out onto the bow as they could go.
Sachia turned to the tower, eyes locked on the rendering of Vaasa’s grandfather.
The man who conquered this port and set the Asteryan Empire in motion.
Power rumbled around them. The sound of it echoed through the bay in a deafening crack.
Sachia lifted her arms, palms facing the metal towers, and then she cranked her hands like she’d done to the locks in the prison.
She adjusted her palm, honed that very magic Melisina had been teaching her, pushed it further and further outside herself.
Reid’s mother extended a hand and lifted it slowly. Her shimmering black horse grew from the shadowy fog darting across the water. It aimed for the tower. Vaasa touched Sachia’s shoulder. Melisina touched the other. The power around them doubled. Tripled. A tsunami of its own.
Their ship broke into the gap. Glittering black magic hit the coast and climbed the tower like ivy.
Sachia screamed with her anger as they passed the statue. Her agony slammed against the iron tower, echoing through the bay just like her voice. Reid felt every inch of it—the sorrow, the love, the unceasing need for revenge.
To deliver precisely what had been taken from her.
And then his wife’s eyes glowed crimson.
The same color as Ozik’s, as the Miro’dag. He took a step forward, but the magic around her sharpened. It lifted from the water in tendrils that shifted and moved. Black, glittering ropes, the edges of them smoking and writhing.
Reid looked to his mother to find…
Her eyes glowing red, too.
And then Sachia’s.
The witches held each other, their magic splintering the air in a wave of mist and rippling wind. The ship passed the tower, the narrowing of water, the entrance to the Gap. The iron tower groaned as it tilted at Sachia’s command. The foundation of it bent until the metal itself simply… snapped.
The tower fell with terrible speed into the Gap. The metal struck the ocean, and a gigantic wave slammed their ship forward. Reid stumbled with the impact. The iron statue bobbed for only a moment, then one side of it dipped beneath the water.
It successfully blocked the Loursevain Gap—had closed off the entrance and made it impossible for another ship to follow them through, at least until it finally sank beneath the waves. It bought them up to an hour.
The glow of Vaasa’s eyes extinguished first, then his mother’s.
Sachia finally turned, and her eyes went soft, her body slumping.
As Vaasa stumbled backward and pulled Reid’s mother with her, all three witches crumpled to the floor. Joná?’s voice rang out around them, commands tossed in every direction as the cliffs on either side of the Gap rose to swallow them.
The boat soared into the night, every whisper of magic around them going utterly silent.