Page 88

Jak

D eep within the island’s cave, torches bobbed like fireflies as Jak, Ren, Riven, and the rest of The Night Wraith’s crew repeatedly tried to break the barrier beneath the arch.

They had attacked it tirelessly with fists, blades, gunpowder, and magic—all to no avail. The shield remained an impenetrable veil between them and the cliff that fell further into the cave, where Esmyra had fallen over a week ago, trapped with their enemy.

The cavern was quiet except for the muted, rhythmic hum of the barrier—and everyone’s godsdamn bickering. The arch never lost its subtle glow. In the cave’s darkness, it cast strange shadows and lit the hollowed faces of the crew lingering before it, defeated.

Jak stood alone at the edge, his eyes fixed on the shimmering surface. He knew in his bones she had survived. And yet, he had no proof—only his gut and an aching in his chest that wouldn’t let him turn away, no matter how badly he knew the crew wanted to.

The thought of it made him sick .

Around him, the crew had slumped into silence—the fire of hope that had once been in their stares was long since snuffed out.

At first, they tried everything they could think of to reach her. Hours turned to days, and days had become nearly two weeks. The barrier was here for a reason, blocking something from the outside world—perhaps even Maerinys, as Esmyra had believed. But why had it reacted to her touch?

Jak barely ate, barely slept, hollowed out by the guilt of letting her fall.

He was her first mate—the one who was supposed to protect her, to stand by her no matter what, just as she had with Cyrus.

He should’ve been able to find a way through—should’ve known what to do, but he didn’t. He was a fucking failure.

Perhaps that was exactly how Esmyra felt when she came back to The Night Wraith to find half her crew was slain and her father captured.

And he never should’ve let that bastard Draevyn Rowe get so close to her that he damned her to the same fate he chose for himself.

The weight of a steady hand fell on Jak’s shoulder. “Esmyra’s gone, mate,” Ren said, a sadness lingering in his voice.

“She’s gone, and we’ve got to get on with it,” Riven chimed in. “There’s nothing we can do. If we remain here, we’ll starve. We’ve run out of food.”

“And rum,” Ren interjected, which had Jak spinning on his heel to face them.

“We can’t give up,” he snapped.

Ren and Riven briefly glanced at each other.

“And what would you have us do?” Riven asked. “Doom ourselves in her honor? We’re fucking pirates .” He nodded to the arch. “As much as it kills me, Esmyra fell behind. She’s gone , and we ain’t nothing but sitting ducks here.”

“We can always make port in the nearest city and see if we can find any information about this. Something she might have missed,” Ren added.

Jak’s nostrils flared, but deep down, he knew they were right. Gods , he fucking hated that they were right. He nodded as he scratched the back of his neck, refusing to meet their stares. “Aye.”

The rest of the crew filed out of the chamber in twos and threes.

The thought of her being gone twisted in Jak’s gut. He had called on every bit of magic he had, every storming force or wind he could conjure, and nothing worked. Whatever that barrier was, its magic was stronger than that of his entire crew.

His fingers traced the cool surface of the arch, his jaw clenched tight. Jak whispered under his breath, “We’ll come back for you, Captain.” He could almost see her face in the swirling light of the shield, rolling her eyes as she told him to stop being so godsdamn dramatic.

He nearly let out a laugh at his hallucination. She would never give up on him, and he knew that with a certainty that cut deeper than any blade.

Esmyra was fierce and brutal, but above all, she was loyal once her trust was gained.

With a deep breath, he unsheathed the dagger hidden in his boot and pressed its tip against the surface of the barrier, trying again, just one more time. The blade sparked as it touched the shield, but nothing more.

Sighing, he turned back to face Ren and Riven. “Alright, let’s head out. We’ll see if we can find anything.”

As they pressed forward, nearing the cave’s entrance, a chill swept through the tunnel, dampening the air and extinguishing half their torches.

“What was that?” Ren whispered.

“ Quiet ,” Jak hissed. But the silence only grew more oppressive. And then it began—a slow, creeping darkness that slithered along the edges of their vision, turning the walls into shifting shadows that felt alive, closing in. “What in all gods?”

Riven unsheathed his sword. “Fuck, we’re not alone here!”

Suddenly, Ren froze, his eyes fixed on something Jak couldn’t see.

His face paled, his torch shaking in his hand until it fell to the ground at his feet, its flames winking out.

He stumbled backward. “No…no, NO !” The last word ended in a scream as he backed into the nearest wall, his breath hitching as he gazed at something just beyond the shadows.

A few paces to his left, Riven’s eyes went wide and haunted. “Fuck!” He turned to face Jak. “It’s elven magic. ”

“Elven?!” Jak echoed. He bared his teeth as he grabbed both of them by their sleeves, pulling them toward the cave’s mouth.

With every step he took, intense heat licked up his back, and suddenly, his clothing was on fire.

There was no torch—nothing to light the spark. Not even Draevyn Rowe was there to be the culprit.

That was the one thing Jak never told a soul—he feared the kiss of flame.

“Kaelypso’s fucking tits!” he screamed, as his arms burned.

They raced out of the cave to find the rest of the crew in utter chaos.

Jak dropped to the ground and flailed in the sand, desperate to put the blaze out, but no matter what he did, they remained. He watched the fire settle on his skin, but his flesh was fully intact. It didn’t blister from the heat or melt from his bones.

Alec screamed a few feet from him, swinging his sword wildly at the empty air. His voice cracked as he sank to his knees.

To the side, another mortal from their crew, Torin, spun in frantic circles, his hands clawing at his face as if swatting away invisible creatures. “Spiders,” he gasped, his face contorting in terror. “They’re everywhere! Crawling…under my skin…I can feel them.”

The madness spread like wildfire, each man screaming or muttering, trapped in his own personal nightmare. Some swung wildly at illusions only they could see, while others crumbled to the ground, hands over their faces, weeping or shouting for mercy.

Jak called on his magic, summoning a vortex of wind that would put out any blaze, but it only spun around him in a relentless tornado, and the flames danced to its rhythm atop his flesh.

He let out a bellowing cry into the sky, his voice echoing through the clouds like an owl’s screech.

Then male voices sounded above the chaotic screams of his crew, barking orders and attacks. Jak lifted his stare to where the rocks narrowed into shadowed alcoves, and found their attackers crouched behind the stone ledges, waiting.