Page 32

Captured at Sea

Three weeks at sea had passed and they would reach the Hastehill Isles within seven days.

Adelina spent most of her time in the prism world, mastering the arts of harnessing the sun, although she hadn’t the chance to utilise the power so far.

She kept the torches burning, the food ripe, turned saltwater from the sea into drinkable liquid, and with it, the crewmen’s morale remained high.

Damir spent most of his days fixing stuck doors, wonky chair legs, checking the conditions of the sails, and the lower deck for holes.

He’d assisted the cook by sanding down the wooden table, which’d threatened to fall apart from long-term use.

And whenever they both had time to spare, they sparred, ensuring she didn’t lose the skills she’d learned at the palace .

Scorching heat beat against their faces. Captain Burchard remained unphased at the wheel.

Adelina nodded as she strode past the captain to enter the lower decks—the cook had become a decent friend within their three weeks of travel. She lit fires for him with her magic when the stock of logs ran low.

On her way, she passed Damir. She squeezed his arm gently, then leaned in for a brief kiss. Both kept busy by their duties, their moments of intimacy were few and far between and by the time they both retired for bed, they were too tired for anything but sleep.

After visiting the cook and igniting the fires for the dinner meal, she slipped into her cabin and rootled for her tubbed mixture of jasmine and rice.

With her fingertips, she rubbed the thick, gooey texture onto the plains of her face and grimaced.

It was slimy against her skin but was her only option of keeping the harsh sun and wind burn at bay.

A loud boom thundered. She jolted and dropped the pot onto the floorboards, which subsequently spilled a portion of her concoction. Bending, she scooped it into her hand, twisted on the lid, then put it in the drawer between the two beds.

She hurried on to the deck, weaving between gathering crewmen who filed between the masts. Rain fell heavier now, and a wind wiped through the sails. Waves crashed against the sides of the ship.

Damir grabbed her, and she startled.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Look.” Wide eyed, he pointed out to sea.

In the distance, but close enough to see, was a large, encroaching ship, perhaps twice the size of their own vessel .

“The bang was a cannon blast—they mean to board,” he said.

She clutched onto him, and a bolt of panic shot through her core. “No. It could’ve been thunder. It can’t be him.”

“I pray to the gods it’s not him,” he said. His face had gone pale. “Thunder would be better. At least you can stop the storm. We can’t stop Filip.”

Burchard abandoned the wheel, rested his hands against the rail, and craned his neck. “A ship with so many guns means one thing—they want something, and they’ll take it. Don’t cause a skirmish.”

A low murmuring rumbled across the deck.

“What could they want?” One man leaned close to another beside him.

His colleague replied with a shrug.

“We need to get you out of sight.” Damir grabbed Adelina by the elbow, then whirled her down the steps below deck.

“How do you think this’ll help? He’ll surely come looking down here.” She yanked her arm free of his grasp. “Where else do you expect me to go?”

“The prism world,” he said without stopping his pace towards their cabin. “Open a portal and just…stay in there. I’m going to help the others and keep Filip the hell away from you.”

She hesitated for a moment, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Fine, but you’ll need to be careful. As soon as Filip sees you on board, he’ll know I’m here somewhere.

He’s powerful, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he can sense me and my magic.

Keep him busy so he doesn’t conjure a portal right to me. Go, quick. ”

Urging him back the way they came, her heart hammered, and a line of sweat beaded along her hairline. She swatted it away with the back of her hand and sucked in a deep breath.

Drawing her finger through the air in a circular motion, the gold, cracking circumference of the prism world’s portal snapped into existence.

Without lingering, she stepped through. She kept the portal open, showing the cabin on the other side.

From her position on the manicured lawn of Kirovo Palace, she could hear the thundering footsteps on the deck of the Senan .

She lifted her hands to close the portal, sealing herself inside, as the booming footsteps combined with thunder.

Thunder?

She frowned. They’d endured relentless heat moments ago. If she possessed the ability to end a storm, what in the realm could Filip do—was this his doing? She shoved her panic down.

The storm intensified and waves crashed against the ship, making the portal shake and flicker.

Her cheeks burned, flustered from her inability to do anything at present. There was no way she could help the crewmen without Filip and his men taking her hostage.

The portal wobbled, teetering, then disappeared altogether.

Hastily, she swiped her hand through the air to reform the connection to the Senan so she could do something— anything —to help Damir and the men in the storm, but despite her best efforts, the portal wouldn’t reform.

Nonetheless, she could hear the thundering, the deep yells of crewmen, and pelting rain.

She was close, but not close enough to bring Damir to her.

In the prism world, she was rendered completely useless.

∞∞∞

“Tell me where she is!” Filip demanded, his nose inches from Damir’s face. The mid-castle rocked from side to side, but he was oblivious. In the few minutes it took to board and locate Damir on deck, his patience had disappeared.

“She isn’t here,” Damir said through gritted teeth.

A tumultuous wave shook the boat, sending both of them hurtling into the rail.

“Don’t lie to me,” Filip hollered. “I can sense her. She’s using a portal, right? I can feel it!”

In truth, he couldn’t sense it. The damned storm he’d caused was blocking out his connection to her.

The saturated vision and other tell-tale signs of her magic usage were dulled by the crashing rain.

When he tried to reign in his magic, calm the weather, his efforts were futile.

Something was blocking him from undoing his spell.

Filip gripped Damir by the throat, then slammed him against the wall of the captain’s quarters. “Call to her. Bring her back right now, or I will kill you all.”

“I’d rather die, than ever tell you where my wife is.” Damir stared him straight in the eyes.

“Wife?” Filip growled. “You wed her? ”

“Yes.” Damir’s lips curved into a snarl. “Now you never can.”

A white-hot rage shot through Filip. With a twist of his index finger, he produced black tentacles of nether magic, which wrapped tightly around Damir, lifting him into the air.

The tentacles branched out, expanding into thick vines hovering above the ship, stretching above the waves.

“You’re coming with me,” Filip said. “One way or another, she will pay for her disobedience.”

His magic choked Damir unconscious, his face draining of colour. Throwing his body onto his own ship anchored nearby, Filip turned his head to the sky. Rain pattered against his cheeks. Whatever had stopped him from ending the storm he’d created was no ally of his.

∞∞∞

Unwilling to spend another second in the prism world—useless and apart from her husband—she burst free from the portal with a mighty blast of gold magic.

She ignored the shards nicking at her skin, drawing blood to the surface.

When her feet hit the wooden floorboards, she marched through the lower deck, then ascended the stairs.

Rain hammered from thick, grey rainclouds, but the wind had subsided, and waves no longer raged against the walls of the ship .

Fixing her gaze on the heavens, she lifted her hands—her magic flowing through her and tingling her nerve ends. “ Areiras nielasnal .”

The rain slowed to a gentle patter, then stopped altogether, and a sliver of sun broke through the clouds.

‘The conjurer should note such usage draws on the powers of whomever wields nether magic.’

With Filip in close proximity, her spell would drain him. She hoped it was enough to keep him from harming Damir.

A pained grunt caught her attention. The physician knelt beside a wounded crewman with a ghastly cut to his forehead.

Scanning the deck, her heart pounded as she searched for Damir. She weaved through the gathering men, then hurried to the helm to get a better vantage point of the deck.

“You won’t find him,” Burchard said from his position at the wheel. His clothes were soaked through, and his hair clung to his face.

“What do you mean?” Her voice left her throat in a raspy whisper.

“He’s gone,” he said bluntly. “Take a look for yourself.”

He pointed across the sea to a ship nearing the horizon. “He was here. I couldn’t endanger the lives of my crewmen. Whoever the man was, he’s too powerful. As he boarded, he cast his dark magic into the sky, thrusting us into a storm that threatened to rip apart this ship.”

Reaching the side in quick, long strides, she gripped the rail, staring at Filip’s vessel out at sea. She covered her mouth with her hand, and her eyes burned.

“We have to go after them,” she faced him and repeated her words again with more confidence.

“No can do.” He shook his head. “We’re headed for the Hastehill Isles, and we can’t divert. You’ll have to board another ship once we’ve reached our destination.”

Her palms turned clammy, and a wet, cold shiver ran up the length of her spine. An intense nauseating sensation clenched and churned her stomach. Her knuckles whitened as she tightened her grip on the rail, and she wretched. Her eyes watered.