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CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

TZAIN

T HE MOMENT I STEP onto the ship, something doesn’t feel right. The entire deck is bare. The vessel’s masts don’t even have sails.

A single light shines on the upper deck. It glimmers from above in red. Koa pulls the cleaver from his left shoulder.

My fingers flash green as I pull free my bone axe.

What is this?

The panels beneath us creak as we rise up the stairs. My insides twist with every step. The hairs rise on the nape of my neck.

A steady scratching grows louder the higher we climb. Something heavy lurks in the air. When we reach the top level, the red door to the captain’s quarters sits ajar. I dare to push it open. Moonlight spills across the floor.

My hands fall limp when I see dark brown skin. A young maji lies on the marble tiles. An angry gash sits across her throat. A pool of blood spills from her neck.

Her body is only the first. Dozens of my people line the floors. I follow the trail of corpses to the petite figure standing in the back of the room.

“By the gods…”

At the far wall, a galdrasmier stands, caught in an ecstatic trance. Her skin is pale like ice, and her gray hair is brittle like wire. A horned animal skull covers her face.

I watch as the woman paints with the blood of my people. My soul revolts at the sight. Rectangular runes cover the captain’s quarters. They drip from the marble walls.

The runes form a complicated mosaic, creating the image of a man twisting from three streams of magic under a crimson moon. One stream shows lines of blood and metal. The other is made from vines and lava. In the third, I see risen skeletons and storm clouds.

“ O que é isto?! ” Koa roars.

The woman stops. Her stained fingers shake. Koa and I back up as she turns around.

Horror shudders through my bones when she smiles.

“Run!” I try to grab Koa, but the Lamina runs toward the fight. He whips his cleaver, cracking through the galdrasmier ’s animal skull.

Black paint spreads across the bridge of her nose. White runes fall from her eyes like tears. Koa comes at her again.

The galdrasmier only raises her hands.

“ Ugh! ” A gash spreads across Koa’s abdomen. The warrior stumbles to a stop. He falls to his knees, and the galdrasmier lunges forward, grabbing him by his hair. Koa cries out as she shoves her hand into his open wound before drifting back to her mosaic.

“Fyrir Foeur Stormanna—”

I dive forward, throwing Koa’s body over my shoulder. I propel myself from the captain’s quarters before the magicworker can attack again. Koa’s warm blood soaks down my chest.

“Hold on!”

As I sprint across the upper deck, red lights begin to glow all over the bay. A unified chant starts to ring. Shrill voices fill the night.

The galdrasmiear emerge from every ship.

“Fyrir Foeur Stormanna, blóe tekit úr ollum áttum—”

The chant builds around us as we fly down the stairs. The galdrasmier follows close behind. Her feet don’t touch the ground.

As I run, the realization dawns. I understand the mosaic painted on the wall.

We haven’t launched an attack.

We’ve walked straight into their ritual.