Page 16 of A Kiss of Healing & Honor (Darkstone Academy #4)

The Djinni’s Air magic summoned up a howling wind as we left the cove. The Fae ship pitched and rolled beneath my feet, but I held fast to the helm, my knuckles white with the effort.

Beside me, Gwydion and Branwen stood hand in hand with Lady Karminn and Lord Mariota, their faces set with concentration as they continued to sustain the ship-spell and guide it.

Ahead of us, Tama led the way, his long silver hair streaming behind him like a banner as his tail drove him swiftly forward through the waves.

I looked up and glimpsed Alondra on Boreas’ back, her face a pale oval in the last silver rays of the setting moon.

After I briefed the men-at-arms on our plan, there was nothing for me to do except wait until we arrived at the duke’s flagship. I fervently hoped that our plan to take them by surprise would work.

Finally, just as the eastern horizon began lightening with the first hints of gray, Tama signaled to the Djinni to stop their wind-spell.

I peered into the darkness and saw sparks of lamplight in the distance, hovering against the blackness like fireflies. This must be the duke’s flagship, which Tama had separated from the rest of the small fleet.

Cautiously, our ragtag force of three magic carpets, a Fae ship, and a Dragon drew closer to our target.

When we were several ship-lengths away from our quarry, I heard a shout from the duke’s ship.

I snarled in frustration. Trickster curse the Duke de Norhas!

We’d been spotted before we had the chance to get everyone into position. I’d hoped this wouldn’t happen.

A ship’s bell clanged frantically on the duke’s ship, followed by more shouts. Mage lights flared to life on the masts and railings as men poured onto the deck in a flurry of activity.

I saw sailors and men-at-arms scramble to their positions. We had only moments before they loaded crossbows and primed cannons.

“Boreas!” Alondra shouted over the roar of the wind. “Incoming!”

The great dragon banked sharply to the left, narrowly avoiding a volley of crossbow bolts launched from the duke’s ship.

My heart pounded in my chest. Alondra suddenly seemed a horribly vulnerable target for an arrow or crossbow, strapped as she was to Boreas’ back.

Prince Arslan maneuvered his carpet alongside the Fae ship. “What do you want us to do?”

We’d discussed backup plans in case we failed to take the duke by surprise.

“Can you get us close enough to board?” I asked him.

“Of course,” he assured us.

“Incoming!” Gwydion shouted, pointing towards the flagship.

A hail of arrows arced towards us. But before they could find their mark, a shimmering barrier sprang up around us, deflecting the projectiles harmlessly into the sea.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Mage Armand and Mage Bevitrice working a shielding spell with the Djinni princesses. All four of them had their hands outstretched, their faces strained with the effort of maintaining the shield. The Djinni princesses’ eyes glowed with otherworldly flames, and their hands crackled with elemental power.

“They can’t hold the shield for long!” Arslan warned. “You need to disable those cannons before they have a chance to fire!”

“Leave that to me,” called a confident voice from the waves.

A massive wave suddenly rose on the other side of the duke’s flagship, cresting high over the railings.

I saw a familiar figure riding the wave, his silver hair glinting in the dim light, surrounded by the shapes of other mermen in the water.

Tama. I recalled mermen were renowned for their mastery of Water magic.

Screams and shouts rose from the duke’s men as they spotted the wall of water menacing the ship.

Then the wave crashed down over the flagship’s deck…

Only to part, curling harmlessly over the sea fore and aft, leaving the ship itself untouched.

I spotted the figure of a tall, dark-haired man standing in the middle of the deck, arms thrown wide, surrounded by the blazing aura of a powerful mage.

From what Tama had reported after his earlier rescue attempt, the flagship had at least two mages aboard, possibly three, including the traitor duke and the fugitive mage, Miray Ysandre.

Then I spotted Jacinthe as she emerged from a hatch in the deck. She turned and helped a tall woman with a long black braid up the ladder.

Relief rushed through me. Thanks to our re-established soul bond, I’d already known that Jacinthe was alive and uninjured. But it still filled me with joy to see her for myself.

She spotted the Fae ship, grinned, and waved at us. Then she and the woman joined hands. Their auras blazed as they invoked a spell.

An instant later, arrow chests and crates of crossbow bolts rose into the air and flew over the railings, plunging into the churning sea.

Jacinthe followed this up with a sweeping gesture that extinguished the fuses on the pair of cannons aimed at us..

Men swarmed around the cannons like ants, but all their attempts to relight the fuses sputtered and died.

I guessed Jacinthe had used a Water spell to render the duke’s gunpowder useless by dampening it.

Meanwhile, Tama and his fellow mermen continued to summon wave after wave to batter the ship. The dark-haired mage, joined by a golden-haired woman I recognized as Mage Ysandre, was kept busy deflecting the constant attacks.

The occasional waves that evaded the mages swept men and weapons overboard and into the murderous grasp of the Dolphin Clan warriors waiting in the waters below.

Meanwhile, Arslan was using his magic to bring us closer to the duke’s flagship. Far too slowly for my taste, the two vessels drew steadily closer, like magnets pulled by an invisible force.

When we finally came alongside the duke’s ship, Gwydion extended the golden gangplank with a flick of his slender fingers.

I drew my Fae sword, the diamond-edged blade glinting in the dim light. Circling above us, Alondra and the men-at-arms readied their bows, arrows nocked and ready to fly.

This was it. The moment of truth. My first battle.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come.

And then, the men-at-arms close on my heels, I ran across the gangplank and leaped onto the deck of the duke’s flagship.

I was instantly engulfed in a whirlwind of chaos.

But there was no time for fear or hesitation or even to think.

I charged toward where I’d last seen Jacinthe, my diamond-bladed sword flashing in the dim light. A burly sailor swung his blade at my head with more enthusiasm than skill.

Thanks to years of practice with the sword, I parried the blow without thinking and countered with an instinctive thrust to his chest. The diamond-edged blade parted flesh and bone with hardly any resistance.

The sailor grunted and dropped his weapons. Both hands clutching at his wound, he sat down on the deck with a thump and a surprised look. Then he collapsed, sprawling gracelessly in death.

I fought the urge to kneel at his side and check his vitals. Today I was a warrior, not a healer.

Then I looked around, seeking my next opponent.

All around me, my companions fought with equal ferocity.

Alondra’s arrows rained down from above, finding their marks with unerring accuracy, felling the duke’s men left and right.

Captain Ondine and his men-at-arms formed a tight phalanx behind me, their shields locked together as they advanced across the deck.

But even as we gained ground, I felt the tide of magic shifting around us.

Mage Ysandre and her dark-haired companion were joined by a third mage, a young man with brown hair cropped like a warrior.

The newcomer fought us with furious energy, hurling bolts of lightning and gusts of razor-sharp wind at Boreas and the Fae ship.

Somewhere behind me, I heard Lady Karminn scream, “Maksim! No!”

The young mage froze momentarily. Then his freckled features twisted in a scowl and he resumed hurling offensive spells at the Dragon and the Fae ship.

Then the duke’s ship itself attacked us. Tendrils of fresh green growth sprouted from the wooden planks. They crawled and writhed around our feet, trying to trip us and bind us.

I gritted my teeth and pushed forward, slashing at vines and enemies alike. I had to reach Jacinthe before it was too late. We had to—

Something slammed into my back, sending me crashing to my knees. I heard Alondra scream a warning somewhere above me.

I twisted and saw a blade slicing through the air behind me.

Behind it, Aunt Amella’s face contorted with rage as she stabbed down. Her dagger glanced off the mail shirt beneath my tunic a second time.

Did she really just try to kill me? I thought in disbelief.

I caught her wrist and flung her away. “What are you doing?” I shouted.

“Your father would be so ashamed of you for panting after that Dragon-blooded slut!” screamed my aunt.

Then she caught sight of Jacinthe and the dark-haired woman as they readied another spell.

Aunt Amella spun on her heel and sprinted across the deck. “You monsters!”

“No!” I raced after her.

She grabbed for the dark-haired woman and raised her dagger. “You did this, Princess Jonquil! You brought them all here!”

Before I could reach Aunt Amella, Jacinthe turned and raised her hand to work a defensive spell.

At the same time, the tall, dark-haired mage I’d seen earlier turning aside Tama’s wave lunged forward, sword in hand.

He shouted out an invocation, and Aunt Amella froze in her tracks, struggling against invisible bonds.

The mage’s sword shone in the dawn light as he swung it in a precise, brutal stroke. With a single blow, he cleaved Aunt Amella’s head from her shoulders.

I halted in shock, unable to tear my gaze away as her body collapsed in a fountain of blood.

Her head rolled across the deck, coming to rest at my feet. Her eyes stared up at me, wide and glassy, her mouth still twisted in a final snarl of hatred.

Bile rose in my throat, and I fought the urge to retch.

I forced myself to look away from Aunt Amella’s severed head, my stomach churning. The mage stood over her headless body, his sword dripping scarlet, his face and clothes splattered with my aunt’s blood.

“Why?” I croaked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why would you kill her?”

The mage’s cold gray eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something like regret in their depths. But it was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by a cold, unyielding determination.

“She threatened the princess-royal,” he said flatly. “I can’t have that. As for you, Ilhan of Parrish—”

How does he know my name? Then I finally recognized the man.

Beltrán de Norhas.

“I can’t have you and your friends interfering with my plans any longer.” The duke made a sweeping gesture.

A scream pierced the air above me, cutting through the din of battle like a blade. My blood turned to ice in my veins. I knew that voice, knew it as well as my own.

“Friend Alondra!” Boreas roared above me.

I whirled around, my eyes frantically searching the pale gray sky. And there was my sister, suspended in midair above the ship, struggling against an invisible force.

I realized the duke had used an Air magic spell to drag Alondra from Boreas’ saddle. Now, he dangled her high above the deck like a puppet on a string.

I stood frozen in horror.

“Let her go!” Boreas roared, wheeling around above us.

But before he could do more than flap his wings twice, another figure was hauled up beside Alondra, her long red hair unmistakable in the first rays of the rising sun.

My heart stopped.

Alondra and Jacinthe, the two people I loved most in this world. The duke held their lives in his hands, and his expression of cold triumph told me he knew it.

“Call off that Dragon, boy,” he snarled, “or watch them die.”