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Right.

Because I wasn’t like him, and he’d begged me not to become like him, either – because it wasn’t weakness, disliking the look of a pool of blood around my boots. I sucked in a shuddery breath, swallowed the next apology that had been on its way to my lips, and muttered, ‘No.’

Good.In the bright light of the midday sun, his smile was still joyless as frost.Want to return to the island?

I glanced at Tolya – a lush line of emerald on the horizon. If we returned now, we would have allies to help us with the next fight. I might avoid most of the throat-slitting and blood-shedding that was about to follow, might have older and more experienced friends by my side to take care of the unpleasant parts.

But we’d also lure a vengeful fleet after us.

I shuddered at the thought of Helenka’s reaction. ‘We can’t do that, can we?’

Creon shrugged.We can do whatever the hell we like.

‘But they’ll be unhappy.’

His unimpressed eyebrow told me exactly what he thought of that argument.

‘Let me think.’ I stepped back, away from him, forcing myself to breathe evenly despite the wide-open eyes staring up at me from ghastly pale faces. ‘What do you think the survivors will do now? Warn the other ships and come at us with the full force of the remaining army?’

Not the full force, probably.He nodded at the west side of the island; only now did I notice the flames rising from a ship anchored there.But as many as they can spare, yes.

Lyn. I found myself smiling despite the carnage around us. ‘Tell me more about Iorgas and his fleet.’

Pack of bastards, Creon signed, understanding the silent question behind that request instantly.That unregistered daughter of Iorgas wasn’t some act of defiance against the Mother, in case you were wondering. Just him forcing himself upon a human woman and then drunkenly forgetting about it until she and her magicking child were betrayed by the rest of their village.

A cold shiver ran down my spine. ‘Did he do anything to save them when the Mother found out about them?’

Creon just scoffed.

‘Right.’ I glanced at the undignified bodies around us, my stomach settling a little at the thought of that dead child – a little girl whose fate oddly mirrored mine, an ominous glimpse of what could have become of me if not for Valter and Editta’s ungentle yet effective secrecy. ‘How about the rest of his fleet?’

He glanced at the burning ship as he considered that.Didn’t know every individual member well. But the Sun Fleet has always been known as one of her more vicious divisions, and no one was ever forced to join it as far as I’m aware. More than enough volunteers.

Fae warriors hungry to claw their way up the ranks, to buy their place in the Mother’s court with the blood of innocents. A reason I understood, a motivation I’d felt like it was my own for a few nigh-lethal moments.

But that didn’t make it right.

‘Chose the wrong path,’ I muttered, remembering Zera and her words as she sat on that sun-streaked windowsill. An explanation, not a justification. ‘Alright.’

Creon narrowed his eyes.Zera’s bag?

I nodded.

He sighed, and I wondered for an instant how often he had faced the same dilemma – reading the fear and pain of his opponents even while he was killing them. A question for later. At the south-east side of Tolya, the nearest ship was swarming with activity visible even from where we stood, and I didn’t suppose it would take those reinforcements long to come our way.

If we still wanted to leave …

But if we left, the nymphs would bear the brunt of their anger.

I rubbed my thumb over the bargain mark on the inside of my wrist, a quiet reassurance even with Creon right by my side. Choices I didn’t want to make. People I didn’t want to hurt. Zera had warned me, and yet I’d accepted this power, or worse,askedfor it.

Somehow, that thought made the choice easier.

‘Let’s stay here,’ I said, my voice uncannily firm. ‘People are going to die whatever we do. And if we have to be responsible for bloody slaughter anyway, I’d rather have the victims be our enemies.’

Creon’s nod was terse, almost curt. But his calloused fingers found mine, a short squeeze before he strode off to continue his round among the corpses, and I knew by the tightness of his wings that the gesture hid something not nearly as blank and uncaring.

Always the solitary murderer, always the devil to blame.