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Threydan has risen them again.

He must be close.

The undead are swiping at mothers holding children, charging at the elderly, pinning men in place. Each has Threydan’s bright blue gaze. I lock eyes with one, holding that glowing stare, and I swear I see those eyes move down to the belt keeping my insides together.

I take out that undead first.

He doesn’t even move as I get within range with my rapier, slicing him to ribbons. He stares at my face, then down to the belt again. I realize then that blood is seeping out from under my makeshift tourniquet.

I’m going to lose energy fast, so I have to be quick.

I slice through muscle and tendon, rendering the undead useless. There’s only a handful of them in this room, and I can’t imagine what Threydan plans to do with so few. Perhaps slow us down, even if it’s just a little.

Kearan is right beside me, fighting off his own undead. Many of my girls have followed us, and they join the fight without question, making me proud.

And then the floor moves, and I’m jerked off my feet.

I realize a moment later that the floor didn’t move. Rather itstoppedmoving. The undead lowered the anchor.

Oh no.

The fall jostles my belt, and I can’t move for a moment, so I just yell weakly, “Capstan!”

A combined group of Drifta, my girls, and the crew of theWandererall rush for the stern of the ship, where the mechanism that controls the anchor is housed.

“Are you okay?” It’s Kearan’s voice, but I don’t seem to have the energy to move my head in his direction.

“I’m fine,” I say from the floor. My torso throbs unbearably, and I try to calm my breathing.

And then a shadow is thrown over my form as Kearan kneels before me.

“What is that?” he asks, his voice almost too low for me to hear. He points toward where the blood is escaping from my body.

“Stab wound,” I answer.

His large hands hover over the belt, but he dares not touch me. “How bad is it?”

“Goes in one side and comes out the other.”

“And you’re still fighting?”

“I’m not dead yet.”

“Of all the stubborn—” He adjusts the belt, cinching it tight over the wound once more and ignoring my scream of pain. Kearan hauls me into his arms, and I gasp as the wound is jostled again. “Iskirra! Captain down! Iskirra!”

His voice has turned desperate, haunted. I don’t like the sound of it.

“I’m okay. We just need to get the anchor up and then we can flee. We can still make it. Put all our efforts into getting the ship running again.”

“Save your breath,” he says to me as he takes the stairs at a near run.

“Just help me stand. I can keep going.”

He glares at me.Glares. Like I’ve said something incredibly stupid. “You’ve given enough. Now let your crew take care of you.”

“I’m the captain, and I order you to put me down.”

“You’re injured, Captain. That means I take orders from Dimella now. Iskirra!”