Page 24 of Daemon Master

twenty-four

Adrian awoke to hands roughly hoisting him to his feet. Terror gripped him as he reached out to his daemons. Heartrender sent back worried hesitation, but Lockrod immediately shrieked a battlecry. Surprised shouts and a cacophony of daemonic roars followed. Adrian flared his aether, bolstering his muscles enough to wrench free. He had to run, to—

“Easy, Adrian,” Jasper said. “This is your wake-up call. Nothing to be alarmed about.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in. The airship. Jasper had warned him he’d arrive with an escort in the morning. Adrian went limp, allowing the watchers to manhandle him. The less of a scene he made now, the more likely they’d be to relax their guard later.

Jasper cleared his throat, a hint of wry amusement creeping into his tone. “Thank you, Adrian, but would you mind calming your daemon as well? He’s upsetting the watchers.”

Adrian’s cheeks heated when he realized Lockrod had continued his rampage, knocking a watcher off his feet and brandishing his Unbendable Rod at a pair of crouched daemons to keep them at bay, the weapon nearly invisible in the darkness of the cell.

Lockrod, enough! We need to play along…for now.

Though unhappy about it, Lockrod obeyed. His weapon vanished as he plopped onto the floor. Heartrender padded forward to sit stiffly beside him.

Adrian had anticipated what would happen next, but he still tensed when a pair of watchers stepped forward with bondstones. All part of the plan. Heartrender had escaped unscathed after wearing a bondstone for days. A couple hours wouldn’t hurt them.

Even so, he couldn’t resist asking, “Is this necessary? We won’t make a fuss.” He winced as the disgruntled watcher Lockrod had knocked prone staggered upright, glaring at him. “Or at least, any more of one.”

“While I appreciate your cooperation, we must take appropriate precautions,” Jasper replied. “You have my word that, so long as you behave, none of your daemons will be harmed.”

Adrian watched with gritted teeth as his daemons stilled, their eyes dulling thanks to the bondstones. As before, the devices restricted his bonds, making them more difficult to access. He sent his concern and love through what remained of the links anyway.

When watchers yanked his hands behind his back, he tensed. This wasn’t part of the plan. Cold metal tightened around his wrists, leaving his arms bent at an uncomfortable angle. He didn’t need his aethersense to know the manacles would be aetherforged for durability.

“Am I really such a threat without my daemons?” he asked Jasper as the watchers herded him and his pacified daemons into a torch-lit hall.

A faint smile played over Jasper’s face. He seemed to be in a particularly good mood today. “Consider it a compliment. Proof of how seriously we take you and your true bond.”

More watchers waited in the hall, bringing his escort to over a dozen. They shepherded his daemons into cages of aetherforged steel and locked the doors.

Adrian tried to keep his rising panic off his face. It would seem Jasper wasn’t as lax on security as he’d assumed. He’d anticipated guards and bondstones, but having his hands shackled behind his back would make it difficult to reach his hidden relics, and the cages would stymie any effort to free his daemons.

He took a calming breath, recalling his many training sessions with Seymour. I suppose I’ll just have to improvise.

Jasper surveyed the procession with a critical eye, then nodded. He leaned in and whispered something to a woman Adrian assumed was in charge. She saluted the seeker and beckoned the watchers down the hallway, ushering Adrian and his daemons along with them.

Jasper turned to Adrian, his good humor persisting. “All appears to be in order. Behave yourself, Adrian—I’d hate to have to make an example of you or your friends.”

“You’re not coming with us?” That, at least, was some unexpected good news, especially when Adrian still had no idea what daemoforged relics the seeker might possess.

“No need to sound so glum,” Jasper chuckled. “I’ll see you again soon enough.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he ambled off in the other direction with a noticeable spring in his step.

Adrian watched the seeker go with a small frown. Considering his admitted investment in Heartrender, Jasper seemed disconcertingly nonchalant. Am I missing something?

Shaking his head, he shoved down his unease. No sense trying to decipher Jasper’s twisted mind. He had to stay focused if he hoped to find an opening and enact his plan for escape.

When they paused outside another cell door, Adrian’s heartbeat quickened with anticipation. Sure enough, the guards dragged Seymour out several moments later, though from the screams and Tremorfist’s characteristic roar, not without a scuffle. Adrian suppressed a fond grin. Leave it to Seymour to pick a fight against impossible odds.

A bit battered and bruised, a shackled Seymour stumbled next to Adrian while the watchers loaded a pacified Tremorfist into a cage big enough it required two men to lift. Shadowlash, Adrian noticed, was already in a cage when they carried her out of the cell. This must not be the first time Seymour and his daemons had caused trouble.

“You all right?” Adrian asked, leaning in.

“Never better.” Seymour spat a wad of blood onto the stone and grimaced as they carried a pair of unconscious guards from his cell. “I’d hoped to take at least three of them with me. Pity.”

Adrian chuckled, then lowered his voice. “Keep close to me, and you’ll get your chance.”

A nearby watcher shot them a warning look, and Adrian fell silent. No need to antagonize the guards more than necessary. Judging by the way they glared at Seymour and shoved him forward, his friend had already done enough antagonizing for both of them.

Freya exited her cell with far less fanfare, her head bowed and shoulders slumped. Her red eyes suggested she’d been crying. Adrian’s heart ached for her. He might mourn the loss of Elana and the other villagers while struggling with guilt over the part he’d played in their deaths, but they had been her friends and family. And now, they were gone.

He looked away, unable to meet her eyes. She must hate him after everything that had happened. Surprise shot through him when her shoulder lightly nudged his.

“It’s good to see you,” she whispered. “I worried what they’d do to you and Seymour.”

His throat constricted, and he could only nod.

Thankfully, Seymour picked up his slack. “Adrian’s got something up his sleeve. Stay close and—”

“Shut up, traitor!” a watcher barked, slamming his fist into the side of Seymour’s head. Seymour stumbled and would’ve gone down if Freya hadn’t caught him against her side.

She glared at the watcher. “Keep your hands to yourself!”

“Or what?” The watcher glanced pointedly from their shackled hands to their caged daemons. “Looks to me like you’re in no position to toss around orders.”

“It’s not my orders you should be worried about,” Freya retorted, arching her brow. “I doubt Seeker Jasper would be happy if you damaged his property in transit.”

The bottom of the watcher’s face reddened beneath his helmet. He opened his mouth to respond, but the woman Jasper had spoken to shook her head. His back rigid, the watcher turned away, grumbling to himself. That was something, at least. If push came to shove, the watchers had orders to deliver them unharmed.

With all three prisoners retrieved, the procession set off down a series of stone corridors. Adrian didn’t spy a single other soul as they walked. They’d likely cleared their route ahead of time to avoid any slowdowns. The watchers kept Seymour, Freya, and him huddled together in the middle of their ranks while lugging their caged daemons at the back of the column.

Adrian had no idea how long it would take to reach the airship. This fortress appeared more akin to a maze than a place intended for comfortable habitation, blank passages and unmarked doors branching all around them. Best, then, to go ahead and initiate his plan while he could.

When they turned the next corner into another empty stone corridor, Adrian bumped into Seymour. “Tunic, front pocket,” he whispered. “Activate the triangular shard first, then toss the smaller square one behind us.”

“Hey, what are you doing? Get away from him!”

Adrian slumped against Seymour as long as he could, praying he’d heard and could reach the indicated pocket with his shackled hands since Adrian couldn’t. When a guard yanked him back, Adrian gave an apologetic shrug. “Sorry. Lost my footing.”

The guard glanced between them as he doublechecked their manacles were still in place. Seemingly satisfied, he grunted and turned away. “Watch your step from now on, traitor. Your usefulness to the seeker doesn’t render you immune to discipline. Test us, and you’ll find out exactly how far our patience extends.”

They continued down the corridor, and Adrian held his breath. Had Seymour retrieved the ceramic pieces? Could he figure out how to activate them? It should only take a thread of aether to charge them, much as Adrian had done with Kali’s relics, but what if Seymour couldn’t find the activation points? Or what if Adrian had messed up the aetherforgings? He’d checked them last night, but that didn’t guarantee he hadn’t missed something.

He breathed in and out, struggling to keep his nerves from spiraling out of control. Whatever happened, happened. All he could do now was wait, watch, and remain ready to act.

They had just started around another bend when a cloud of dust erupted to fill the hallway. Confused shouts rang out around them, followed by cries a moment later.

“There! I see him, running down the other hall!”

“Behind us, quickly!”

Feet pounded the stone, moving back the direction they’d come. Adrian allowed himself a small grin. Seymour must’ve thrown the other relic as directed, this one storing a Mirror Image of Adrian posed mid-run. It had been set to fade after only a few seconds so the guards would assume he was getting away.

With the dust cloud still obscuring everyone’s vision, Adrian hissed “Down!” and dropped prone. Twin thumps a moment later suggested Seymour and Freya had followed his lead. He scooted back until he found Seymour. “Three bracelets, inner pocket on the left by my waist,” he whispered. “One for each of us. Activate yours as soon as you can, then keep perfectly still.”

Adrian fought down a furious blush as Seymour rustled around in his pockets for what felt like an eternity. Finally, Seymour grunted and extracted his hand, shoving a cloth bracelet into Adrian’s fingers before shuffling to hand another off to Freya. Fiddling with the cloth behind his back, Adrian managed to tug the bracelet on and activate it with a spurt of aether.

He didn’t feel any different, but in theory, he should now appear identical to their armored guards. The manacles might be a problem, though. While the illusion should hopefully cover the metal itself, it would still look like they had their arms clasped behind their backs.

Remaining motionless, he kept his eyes cracked only enough to tell when the illusory dust finally cleared. Most of the watchers had pursued his imaginary doppelg?nger, leaving the daemon cages on the floor. A handful of guards hovered nearby, their daemons summoned. So far, none seemed to have noticed anything amiss.

Footsteps echoed nearby, and Adrian feigned a groan.

“Hey, are you hurt?”

Shifting air signaled someone kneeling beside him. Belatedly, he realized a flaw in his plan. The first thing a concerned watcher would likely do to a fallen comrade was check their pulse, and the instant someone touched him, they’d see right through his hastily made Mirror Image.

His eyes shot open, and he scrambled into a sitting position facing the concerned watcher. The manacles made the movement awkward, though he did his best to disguise it by leaning back on his arms for support. At least, the chain between the manacles offered a good amount of give. Pulled taut across his back, he could almost hold his arms normally at his sides.

“I’m good,” he said quickly, hoping to draw attention from his bound limbs. “Those spirit-cursed traitors just got the drop on me.”

The watcher grimaced. “On all of us. Spirits only know how they pulled it off.”

Another of the watchers stepped closer, shaking her head. “I heard the captain tried to convince that seeker to take more precautions. But did he listen?”

Adrian stood while they spoke, aware of Freya and Seymour doing the same nearby. He didn’t dare look at them for fear of drawing unwanted attention. His heart pounded in his chest, his throat bone-dry, but since no one had sounded an alarm yet, he assumed his illusions were holding. Now that they’d confirmed their comrades weren’t seriously injured, the guards were too concerned by the escaped prisoners to give them more than disinterested glances.

“Of course not,” the first watcher snorted. “Those corporate types are all the same. They know how to delegate, but stick them on the frontline, and they’re helpless. They’ve never had to face down a stampede of daemons, nor watch their allies bleed out in their arms.”

Adrian shivered at the image of his parents lying wounded in a field. Alone…and abandoned if he believed Jasper. Fortunately, no one noticed his visceral reaction beneath his illusory armor.

“True,” Seymour said amicably, his sudden speech making Adrian jump. “And of course, when things go wrong, it falls to us to pick up the pieces.” He nodded at Adrian and Freya. “We’ll watch over the daemons if you want to join the search. If the traitors escape, it’ll be our heads on the chopping block, not the seeker’s.”

The two watchers glanced at each other. Though Adrian couldn’t see much of their faces beneath their helmets, they seemed to be considering the idea. Thank the spirits for Seymour. As a former watcher himself, he knew exactly what buttons to push.

Another voice interjected before the watchers could make up their minds, this one from a guard near the daemon cages. He’d removed his helmet at some point and was staring at Seymour with an intensity that set Adrian on edge.

He’s the one who threatened us during the walk here,Adrian realized, stomach sinking.

“I think it best we remain at our posts,” the suspicious watcher said, his voice brusque.

Seymour shrugged as if it was of no consequence. “Suit yourselves. The more the merrier.”

The two closer watchers shared a look while the man by the cages narrowed his eyes at Seymour. “What’s your name, anyway? Your voice sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.”

“Hayward,” Seymour replied without hesitation. “Part of Seeker Jasper’s escort.” He nodded again to Adrian and Freya. “All three of us are.”

“The three of you? You don’t say…” The watcher’s voice took on a dangerous tone.

The first watcher who’d come to check on Adrian glanced back at his companion. “Hey, ease off, Garrick. They were just attacked. Give them a chance to get their wits about them.”

Garrick didn’t respond. Adrian struggled to think of a way to deflect his interest. He was out of prepared tricks, however—all except one, and that last aetherforging wouldn’t do him much good with his hands bound behind his back.

“Apologies,” Garrick said, sounding anything but contrite. He crossed his arms over his breastplate. “Perhaps you should take off those helmets, then. So we can check you over.”

The other watcher near them shook her head. “Spirits below, you think the prisoners slipped on full sets of watcher plate in the few seconds we lost sight of them? Mighty impressive.”

The first watcher snorted a laugh. “Especially since we saw them run down the passage.”

Garrick flushed. “It could have been a trick,” he insisted. “Spirits know how they managed that diversion in the first place. They could be capable of anything.”

“This is absurd!” Adrian sputtered, hoping his mock outrage would cover up the faint tremble in his voice. “I will not stand here and allow you to treat me like a criminal!”

Garrick’s eyes flashed. “Why? Afraid of what I’ll find out?”

Adrian glanced at the other watchers, hoping they’d back him up, but they only shuffled their feet. Either they’d resigned themselves to Garrick’s questioning…or had begun to believe him.

“It’s all right, Kramer,” Seymour said to Adrian. “We’ve got nothing to hide.”

Seymour stepped toward Garrick, who fixed suspicious eyes on his illusory faceplate. Adrian prayed his friend knew what he was doing. The Mirror Images couldn’t be altered once they’d been stored, so the only way to remove the fake helmet would be to cancel the entire technique.

Seymour halted mid-step, and Adrian’s gut clenched. What had happened? Had the watcher realized he’d made a mistake? Was his Mirror Image already fading?

Then, a familiar deafening howl reverberated through the corridor, amplified by the tight confines. Adrian flinched and instinctively moved to cover his ears before remembering his shackled arms. Garrick and the other three watchers shouted in alarm, staggering as their muscles seized up. However, it quickly became clear they hadn’t been the intended targets.

The manacles binding Adrian’s hands rattled, something in the metal mechanisms giving out. They loosened around his wrists, and he hurriedly shucked them off. He turned to see Seymour and Freya doing the same. It seemed that Seymour and Tremorfist’s practice with more concentrated bursts back at the Enclave had paid off. Yet, something wasn’t adding up. His gaze flicked to Tremorfist, but the daemon remained pacified within his cage. How then…

It hit him all at once. Seymour.

Adrian stared at his friend, his eyes wide beneath his false helmet. “A reverse Surge?”

“Did you think all those hours practicing at the Enclave wasted effort?” Seymour replied. Pride filled his voice. “While you’ve been honing your aetherforging, I’ve been working on a few tricks of my own. It’s only in the last couple days I managed a reverse Surge, though.”

Even beneath her Mirror Image, Adrian saw Freya’s shoulders tense at the mention of the Enclave. “We can catch each other up later,” she said tersely. She snagged a sword off the closest stunned guard and brandished it with an unpracticed hand. “After we’ve dealt with these.”

Already, the four watchers were shrugging off their brief paralysis. Adrian gauged them about equal to him in strength. That was bad enough, but their active daemons made things even worse. If Adrian and his friends didn’t seize control quickly, they’d soon be overwhelmed.

Seymour wasted no time charging the watcher nearest him—the one who’d checked on Adrian. Adrian winced in sympathy as precise blows to the man’s head, neck, and chest sent him sprawling to the ground unconscious before he could react.

Freya tried to stab the other nearby guard with her commandeered sword, but the man dodged her clumsy swing with his limbs still half-asleep. His daemon, bird-like with a beak and stunted wings, rushed forward in a sudden burst of speed.

Freya yelped and tried to evade, but she wasn’t fast enough. The daemon’s beak gouged her leg like a drill, spraying blood down the corridor. Adrian prayed the wound wasn’t too severe, but he didn’t have time to check. The other two watchers—Garrick and his companion—had come to their senses. They were only seconds away from entering the fray with their own daemons. Adrian considered going for them before skirting around them toward the cages they’d been guarding instead. Seymour and Freya would stand a much better chance if he could free their daemons.

Behind him, Seymour unleashed another of Tremorfist’s roars. This one felt far less potent than the first, and Adrian knew from personal experience it would have a weakened effect on those already exposed to it. Still, every second might matter.

He reached the cages and fumbled in his pockets for the last of his prepared relics. The instant his fingers clutched the ceramic shard, he activated it with a thread of aether, praying he’d gotten the aetherforging right.

To his relief, an Unbendable Rod materialized in his hands. The weapon wouldn’t last long—he’d struggled to hold a reverse Surge with Lockrod long enough to enchant it—but hopefully, it’d be enough.

Drawing on his limited connection with Heartrender, he willed her aether to flow into him as a reverse Enhancement to bolster his flesh. Rather than the usual deluge, the best she could manage was a faint trickle. He drank it in, then lifted the rod and brought it down on her cage’s lock.

The Unbendable Rod bounced off the metal with a loud clang, and he cursed. No doubt the lock had been reinforced with aether, just like his cell. Maybe Seymour would have more luck breaking it with another Stunning Howl?

He glanced back to find Seymour fending off two watchers with a stolen sword while desperately dodging around the flailing avian daemon. A second, lizard-like daemon periodically reshaped the floor beneath Seymour’s feet, stone spikes piercing upward trying to impale him. Freya hung back, rubbing something onto her sword. From this distance, he couldn’t tell what.

Meanwhile, the third remaining watcher—

Adrian’s eyes widened when he spotted Garrick striding toward him, his sword drawn and his face contorted with rage. His eyes flicked over Adrian’s shoulder, and instinct made Adrian duck right as a beam of sickly green light lanced the air above him. He spied its source a moment later—an arachnid daemon with a bulging abdomen and spiky legs that clung to the ceiling.

“Nothing to hide, huh?” Garrick said. “This’ll go much easier for you if you surrender.” He bared his teeth in a savage grin. “Not that I mind watching Pulsespike eviscerate you first.”

Adrian could tell at once this wasn’t a fight he could win—not without a daemon of his own. He had to stay focused on his original goal. If reverse Enhancements were too weak to function through the bondstone’s interference, he’d have to try something else.

Forcing his mind to calm despite the chaos around him, he intertwined his aether with Heartrender’s. Their constricted bond made aligning their aether more difficult than usual, but knowing Seymour had already accomplished the feat lent him confidence.

At last, his reserve briefly joined with Heartrender’s in a tenuous reverse Surge. Rather than harness her aether toward a technique, he called on the entirety of their shared magic to reinforce his swing. The Unbendable Rod struck the lock, and this time, he heard the satisfying snap of metal as it clattered to the ground in pieces.

Reveling in a flash of triumph, he yanked open the bent cage door, gasping softly when his reverse Surge snapped. He shook his head to clear it. Heartrender sat there before him. All he had to do now was remove her bondstone and—

Pain seared along his back. Blackness tinged his vision as he screamed.

As if from a great distance, he heard Garrick’s amused chuckle. “What’s the matter? Not a fan of Pulsespike’s venom? Don’t worry—the pain will fade as it pervades your body and numbs your flesh.”

Adrian shuddered, a dull numbness already creeping over him. He stretched a hand toward Heartrender, desperate to reach her. If he could only deactivate her bondstone…

Fresh agony bloomed in his back, and he howled, collapsing half into the cage. Another daemon might’ve been able to fight past Pulsespike’s technique, but unlike daemons with their bodies of aether, Adrian felt every agonizing drop of venom coursing through him.

So…close…

Barely able to see let alone think, he stretched until his fingertips brushed Heartrender’s slick fur. He managed a pulse of aether through his haze of pain and dimly heard the deactivated bondstone clatter to the cage’s bottom.

Heartrender rushed past him in a flash, growling as she positioned herself between him and Garrick. Aether poured into him through their bond—a proper reverse Enhancement this time. He gasped in relief as the pain retreated before the restorative energy.

Garrick let out a wordless snarl as Pulsespike unleashed another poisonous green beam. Adrian was ready this time, dodging to the side even as Heartrender darted at Garrick, conjuring several illusory copies of herself to disguise her approach. Yelping, Garrick stumbled back while Pulsespike leaped from the ceiling into the throng of Heartrenders.

Adrian glanced toward the remaining cages before clenching his jaw and charging after Heartrender. He couldn’t leave her to fight alone. Freeing the other daemons would have to wait.

Skirting around Heartrender’s brawl with Pulsespike, he went straight for Garrick. He’d expected the watcher to put up a fierce fight, but after facing a foe like Kali, squaring off with him felt almost too easy.

A silent command to Heartrender obscured Garrick’s vision with a sheen of illusory blood. The watcher shouted a surprised curse, instinctively reaching up to swipe at the nonexistent liquid. Adrian capitalized on the blunder with a savage strike across his exposed chest.

Garrick doubled over, wheezing past his breastplate. A final blow to the skull sent him crumpling to the ground. Bereft of its master’s guidance, Pulsespike flickered and remelded with his unconscious body.

Praying he hadn’t taken too long, Adrian spun toward where he’d left the others just in time to see the last of the watchers collapse at Freya’s feet. His eyes widened in shock as she delivered a brutal slash to the man’s side even as he fell.

Seymour glanced at the blood-slicked sword in Freya’s grip. “Remember, these watchers are just doing their jobs. No need to kill them unless they leave you no other choice.”

She flicked blood off her sword, her expression still hidden beneath the Mirror Image. “They didn’t give my people a choice. This isn’t much as far as payback goes. But it’s a start.”

Then, she began to sob.

Seymour hesitated before giving her an awkward pat on the back.

Adrian looked away, remorse eating at him. His gaze fixed on the fallen guards. “I can’t believe you took care of two fully trained watchers without any daemons.”

Seymour gestured to Freya. “We have her to thank for that.”

She sniffled loudly before nodding. “The seeker visited me in my cell. He wanted me to show him how to use daemonsbane. He’d brought fresh sprigs of it with him, and I snagged some without him noticing. I forged it into a paste with leftovers from my meals.” Sorrow rang clear in her voice. “I didn’t want to be caught unprepared. Not again. So, I rubbed it on that sword I stole from the watcher and…” She gulped, looking down.

Adrian shook his head in amazement. From Seymour’s mastery of the reverse Surge to Freya’s ingenuity with the daemonsbane, it would seem he hadn’t been the only one to prepare.

A fresh round of sniffles from Freya brought his guilt careening back.

“Freya…” He cleared his throat. “Listen, I—”

She shook her head. “Not now. I…I don’t want to talk about it.”

He nodded. Feeling like a coward for the relief flooding him, he moved to the cages and used his Unbendable Rod along with a boost from Heartrender to smash the remaining locks.

Once Lockrod, Tremorfist, Shadowlash, and Metamire were free, he allowed the rod to fade. The aetherforging’s energy was all but spent anyway. So far, his relics had proved a resounding success. With any luck, the bracelets would sustain their Mirror Images long enough for them to finish their escape.

“What next?” Seymour asked. He prodded a fallen watcher with his foot. “It won’t be long before someone stumbles on the mess we left.”

“We stick with our original plan and make for the airship,” Adrian said.

“And what about the tournament?” Freya asked. Her tone was impossible to read, especially when he couldn’t see her face. “Do you still intend to go to Haven to fight?”

Adrian hesitated. “Honestly, I haven’t thought that far ahead. For now, let’s just focus on reaching the airship. Once we’re out of this spirit-cursed place, we can determine our next steps.”

Recalling their daemons so they’d be less conspicuous, they set off down the corridor. Seymour took the lead, guiding them in the same general direction their procession had been heading earlier. They passed several watcher squads along the way. Adrian tensed beneath his illusory armor each time, but none gave them more than a passing glance. So far, so good.

When they finally emerged onto a massive open-air balcony, relief flared through him. No guards in sight. In fact, the airship appeared abandoned from the outside. With its sleek wooden lines, the vessel reminded him of pictures he’d seen of ocean-faring ships but without any oars or sails. From what he understood, Serenity Corp’s airships utilized specially bred daemons to keep the vessel afloat. It could’ve been a literal wooden box and still would’ve worked fine.

“Where is everyone?” Seymour said, his gaze sweeping over the platform.

Adrian shrugged. “Maybe they thought it too brazen a target and reassigned the guards.”

“I don’t like this. Something’s off.” Seymour glanced from the airship to the edge of the balcony and the distant ground below. “We can’t be more than a couple days’ travel from Overlin Forest. If we abandon this spirit-cursed plan of yours to enter the Diamond Cup, we could seek refuge in the woods like we did before and—”

“No!”Freya’s voice quivered with such vehemence that they both fell silent. Adrian wished he could see her face so he could read her expression. “I will not let this all be in vain. We will go to that tournament, we will enter, and we will win. Then, we’ll expose Serenity Corp’s lies to the entire League and burn their spirit-cursed organization to the ground!”

Seymour appeared at a loss for words.

After a long moment, Adrian cleared his throat. “Right, then. Well, I guess we should head aboard. Stay on your guard and be ready to summon your daemons. Things might be quiet out here, but we don’t know what sort of welcoming party to expect inside.”

They made their way through an opening in the airship’s hull and found themselves in a dimly lit wooden corridor. The bare walls and utilitarian design lacked the artistic flourishes of the ship’s exterior. Seymour took the lead, guiding them past several sealed doors to a narrow staircase he insisted led to the bridge in the ship’s bowels. Though the watcher had never flown an airship himself, he’d been trained in the basics of their operation. So far, they’d yet to see another living soul on board. If there was any crew here, they’d made themselves scarce.

They were passing through a massive cargo bay full of scattered boxes when Adrian jerked to a halt. His eyes widened as he recognized Kali’s relics and Crastley’s journal tossed carelessly into an open crate. Beside the crate, Ghosttear sat in a small cage. The lethargic daemon barely glanced their way before curling into a ball and closing his eyes. Jasper hadn’t bothered with a bondstone. Perhaps he’d worried how it would affect the daemon’s unstable aether.

Adrian paused beside the cage. “Don’t worry, buddy—once we’ve secured the ship, we’ll come back and let you out.” Ghosttear shifted but gave no other indication it had understood him, so he moved on.

Beyond the storage area, they pushed through a pair of doors and emerged at last onto the airship’s bridge. Adrian swept his gaze over the room and froze. The bridge had to be situated near the front of the ship given the enormous glass window looking out on open air. Complicated panels littered the space, used to issue commands to the daemons bound within the engine room.

None of that, however, was what drew his eye and sent his pulse racing. No, that was the solitary figure standing with his back toward them, peering out the window. His white coat billowed about him as he turned and fixed them with a wide grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Well done, you three!” Jasper said, clapping his hands while he stepped forward. “Bravo! You put on a remarkable show.”