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Reluctantly, and with muttered grumbles, they released the woman and sidled past me out of the door.

The spy was left panting on the floor and I pushed the door shut, turning a key in the lock with my pulse thumping erratically in my ears.

The cabin didn’t have much light, but there was enough to see the brutal beating she’d taken. I wasn’t going to pity her. The enemy was the enemy after all.

I walked closer and she trembled as she stared up at me, wincing as she tried to move away. But I could see now how much damage had been done. Many bones were broken and the blood painting her lips told of internal damage.

My fists curled.

I’d beaten Fae all my life. I’d been praised and encouraged for it. This was an enemy rat beneath me. She deserved all she got. But even as I thought that, that traitorous feeling spun through me again.

What was wrong with me? Why was I even standing here? I’d lied to my fellow warriors and for what?

“I am what they say,” she spluttered, coughing more blood as she gave up on trying to move away from me. “I am a spy, but I’ll never speak my secrets. I’ll never betray my people. You can beat me more. Or rape me like they were going to, but I’ll never, never speak.”

I nodded, taking my sword from its sheath and her eyes flashed silver as it reflected in her eyes.

The truth was, despite what I’d told my friends, I’d never actually killed anyone. My hand was tight around the grip of my sword, near to trembling.

I wasn’t afraid of war, of swinging swords on battlefields, but I’d never considered that I might be faced with a choice like this.

“If I leave you alive, they will come back,” I whispered.

She realised what I was offering and her head fell softly against the floor as a sigh left her.

“I never thought I’d find mercy on this accursed ship.

” She looked at the ceiling as if seeking out the stars.

“Capricorn, come closer. Hold my hand as it happens.” Then she looked to me.

“You are young,” she whispered. “I pray your mercy never dies. Thank you for it.”

I thrust my sword down, driving it deep into her chest and ending her quickly. She jerked once then the light left her eyes and I could have sworn I felt the brush of her soul as it swept past me into some unknown place beyond this one.

My breaths were coming too heavily, sweat beading on my brow. I yanked the sword from her chest then struck at her body a few times to make it seem as if I’d offered some further torture before death.

I cleaned my blade with water magic and stowed it back in its sheath, walking for the door and wondering if I’d just made a grave mistake. But that discomfort inside me was settling and I didn’t feel regret as I exited the room and headed for the top deck.

I met Jacobin, Goshart and Agatha on the stairs, their eyes roaming over me.

“Well?” Goshart asked, slicking his lips with his tongue. “What of her?”

“She’s dead. I made it hurt. She had no secrets to spill, she was just a fisher after all.” I hurried past them, their complaints following me, but I didn’t turn back.

Up on deck, Father was waiting for me. He led me along the ship to where a rowboat was ready to be boarded.

“Come. It is time you learned the intricate ways of warfare, son.” Father stepped into it, beckoning me after him and a couple of deck hands lowered us into the water.

I sat with Father as he dipped his hand into the sea, casting magic that sent us speeding away across the calm ocean.

We were headed right for the fog that climbed up into the sky like a wall along the horizon and for a moment I thought I caught sight of a hulking shape moving within it.

I glanced back at the fleet of ships bobbing in the water. Alina had been assigned to another crew and I wondered if she was watching us from one of those vessels now, guessing at what great mysteries I was being given access to.

My eyes slid to Father. What would he think of me if he found out what I’d just done?

I’d offered mercy to an Avanis spy. I’d killed her before her secrets could be pulled from her lips.

Would she have spoken had I left her at the hands of Jacobin and the like?

Would a Cyclops have been able to tear them from her mind?

Would it have been worth the knowledge to let an atrocity like that be committed?

I pushed the heavy thoughts from my head.

I hadn’t had to deal with moral questions before.

I was Ransom Rake. I had no worries to face.

My life was easy, enjoyable. I trained, I drank, I fucked.

Life was good. But now it had abruptly become very real.

And I was wrapped up in the truth of war, soon to be headed into an actual battle.

My death toll was at a pitiful count of one, and it hadn’t been made in a gleaming moment of glory. It had been, if anything, disturbing.

I tugged at my thick brown hair, feeling a few strands come out in my hand and looking down to watch them fluttering in my palm before the wind stole them away.

“Do not fear what you are about to see, my boy,” Father warned just as the fog enveloped us. “Trust me.”

“I do,” I said earnestly as the mist swirled before us, lifting slightly to reveal another small boat headed our way. It was driven by a single sail and the man standing upon it cast wind against it, directing himself toward us.

I was on my feet in an instant, my hands raised and ice coating my fists, ready to attack.

“Stay your hand,” Father growled, standing too and shoving my arms down to my sides.

“But that’s-” I couldn’t finish my sentence because the man clad in white battle leathers with hair just as bleached in colour was suddenly far too close and able to overhear every word.

“Your son, I presume, Commander?” Prince Dragor drawled, those shards of ice for eyes tracking over me.

“He is the image of you. Well, he would have been in a time before I gave you that scar.” He pointed to the faded mark lining my Father’s jaw and I gritted my teeth, hatred ripping through my chest.

Why wasn’t Father attacking him? What the fuck was this?

A dark shadow shifted in the clouds above and I spotted the hulking form of a sky island hovering there before it drifted back into the thick mist.

Why wasn’t a battle breaking out, or war calls crying for blood? Father had sailed his best warriors into the open ocean, miles from Cascadian waters and now we were face to face with the enemy but no blows were being thrown.

“I don’t understand,” I hissed to Father.

“You will if you quiet your tongue,” he murmured then he spoke in a booming voice to the air prince. “You know why I requested this meeting, I assume?”

“I am no fool.”

“Well then? What say you?” Father demanded and I glanced between the two of them, unsure what I was witnessing.

“Do you think I would have travelled all this way to deny you, Commander?” Dragor asked coolly.

“Deny you of what?” I growled.

“Quiet,” Father clipped again and I bit my tongue, but it was a damn difficult feat. What in the sun was happening?

“A truce, then,” Dragor announced, guiding his boat up beside ours and extending his hand to my father.

“Never,” I gasped and Dragor’s gaze slid back onto me.

“You didn’t think to explain this to your boy before our meeting?” Dragor asked, a note of taunt to his voice.

“Better he understand it firsthand. And don’t lay comments on my choices, Skyforger,” Father growled, then clasped Dragor’s palm firmly. “I swear my people will not harm yours when we unite to attack Pyros and kill The Matriarch.”

“ Father ,” I growled frantically, but he ignored me.

“And I swear the people of Stormfell will not harm yours in return. For this one battle, we shall be united in our advance,” Dragor vowed and magic sparked between their palms to seal the deal.

Father pulled his hand back first and Dragor eyed him curiously then guided his boat a few feet away from ours. “On the full moon, we will strike.”

Father nodded, watching Prince Dragor sail away into the mist and finally turning to acknowledge my discomfort over this.

“The Void is the key to the victor in this war, my boy.” He laid a hand on my shoulder.

“I don’t want this any more than you do, but we must do something drastic to ensure we claim that power from Pyros.

If we unite in a single battle with Stormfell, we will secure our chance at taking that power for ourselves.

I offered the prince a deal to unite under the guise of ridding us all of The Matriarch, knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist the idea of striking such a blow against Pyros.

It is the only hope for Cascada, a tactical move. Do you see?”

I nodded slowly. Though it didn’t feel right, I could see Father’s strategy would work. Pyros couldn’t take us on alone but I still hated the idea of fighting with the Skyforgers even if it was a one off.

“Does Prince Dragor know of the Void?” I asked.

“Most certainly. The lips I heard it from are easily bought. Twenty thousand karmas was all it took for me to secure it. But the rogue who offered it up will have sold the information to as many as he could.”

“Who?” I asked.

“Mavus Angelico.”

“That madman trader?” I snapped. “How can he even be trusted? What does he know of the Void?”

“He knew more than I like to say, son.” His hand shifted on my shoulder. “He knew the Void’s name.”

“It’s a person?” I said in surprise.

“Yes, and not just anyone.” He swallowed, his stubbled throat rising and falling as he gave me an intense look. “One we’ve had under our noses all these years, and the little wretch never thought to mention it to us.”

“Who?” I demanded.

“Your sister, Ransom. My not-so-worthless daughter.”