Page 36

Ophelia stood at the stern end of Omen, staring past the bulwark and the layer of clouds several hundred feet below them to watch the sun set over the horizon. Carolina had joined her over a minute ago without saying anything, and though she knew Carolina was there and would’ve loved nothing more than to simply spend time with her, she hadn’t brought herself to acknowledge her presence. Ever since Wyatt had left Omen earlier in the day, she’d been in a constant state of meditative thought. Pondering whether this was even the right thing to do. Bargaining with herself over intentionally setting out to kill someone in cold blood. Brainstorming all the ways to make sure she succeeded and survived it.

She would reach whatever door separated her from Simon and hope he was sleeping. She would sneak in as slowly as she needed to ensure that she made no sound. She would creep to his bedside with a knife in hand. And she’d… She would…

“You don’t have to do this,” Carolina said. Ophelia blinked away her trance and finally looked over at her for the first time. “Maybe we don’t even have to fight them,” she said. “We can try to set sail tonight unnoticed, and go to warn the shipwright and his family so they can run.”

Ophelia offered a small smile at the effort and set her hand on Carolina’s. “I could never put enough wind in our sails to outrun Simon and two air Alters.”

“Did you ever kill anyone?” Carolina asked, turning to face her and leaning a hip against the bulwark. “This isn’t what you signed up for.”

“No,” she sighed, and wrestled with the idea once more as she let go of Carolina’s hand to set hers against the edge of the railing, stretching herself away from it. “I never killed pirates because I saw you in them… And I never killed soldiers because I saw myself in them. Because no one is beyond saving, and it was never for me to determine when they’re out of chances.” She inhaled deeply, straightening up again and clenching her fist to bump it a couple times against the wood. “But this needs to be done. I know it does. And I won’t pass it to someone else, someone who certainly wouldn’t survive it, just for the sake of some self-imposed moral high ground.”

Carolina reached out to take her hands again, turning her so they were facing each other. “What do you need me to do?” she asked.

“Tell me I’m right,” she begged, and all her anxieties surfaced at once as her eyes flooded and her bottom lip quivered. “Tell me this is what needs to be done, and that it’s not foolish, and that I’ll survive it.”

“Of course,” Carolina breathed, pulling her into a tight hug, where she wrapped her arms around Carolina’s waist and buried her face against her shoulder to seek comfort in her warmth. “If Simon reaches Ascension, it’ll bring disaster to so many people. We have to stop him.” She nodded against Carolina’s shoulder and tightened her arms. “And you will survive it. Alright? Look at me.” Carolina let go just enough to pull back and meet her eyes. “There is not one damn thing in this entire world that will keep me from getting to you if things go wrong tonight.”

She nodded, rapidly blinking away the tears in her eyes as she drew in a shaky breath. It was clear on Carolina’s face how badly she wished to take this burden upon herself, and the last thing Ophelia wanted was anyone else to feel guilty or responsible for it. So she steeled herself, strengthening her resolve to see this through to the end, no matter how terrified she still was.

“On the bright side,” she said, “now that the curse is broken, I’ve got my full magic back.”

Carolina smiled and lifted one of her hands to kiss the back of it. “That will help. And the rest of us will have fun sabotaging Penny again.”

“Yes,” Ophelia laughed, “I’m sure you will.”

“How do we plan on doing that, anyway?” Berkeley asked. He, Rue, and Carter stood before them, looking as anxious as Ophelia felt. “We normally rely on a distraction.”

Carolina hummed as she let go of Ophelia’s hands, and they both turned to face the others. “I’ve been thinking,” Carolina said, “and the easiest way might simply be to sabotage the rudder assembly.”

“A classic,” Berkeley said, “but we can’t light anything on fire. ”

“No,” Carolina agreed with a shake of her head. “But if we cut their tiller ropes, it’ll take them long enough to fix it that we’ll be long gone, and that’s only once they realize what the problem is.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Rue said.

“So, who’s sneaking onto the ship?” Berkeley asked.

Carolina pursed her lips. “I would, but I don’t want to take my eyes off Sky’s Honor while Ophelia’s on board.”

“I’ll do it,” Rue suggested. “I’m the smallest, and I can cut the ropes directly from the helm.”

“What about me?” Berkeley protested.

“I want you to stand midway between Penny’s ship and Sky’s Honor,” Carolina told him. “Watch for Rue’s signal that it’s done and then wave to me, I’ll pass that on to Ophelia.” Carolina looked at Carter. “You’ll have your mount ready?”

“As soon as Ophelia pulls that lever and opens the gate for me,” Carter nodded. “We’ll cling onto the hull out of sight and wait for a signal.”

“I’ll yell,” Ophelia told him, giving a small laugh as she shrugged, “if I’m in need of a quick escape there won’t be any use keeping quiet anyway.”

“Port side, stern end,” Carter said, “you jump, we’ll catch you.”

“Are we forgetting anything?” Rue asked.

They all looked around at each other, shaking their heads, so Berkeley threw an arm over Ophelia’s shoulders and began to lead her away. “Come on, let’s get you some food,” he told her.

The others followed behind them, and while eating dinner was the last thing Ophelia felt like doing, Berkeley was right. She’d been so nervous since Wyatt’s visit that she hadn’t had a bite all day, and she needed to eat if she was going to have the stamina and energy to complete her part of the event.

The sun set while they were below deck, and once they’d returned above and found that night had fallen, she summoned a mouse to go and search for Wyatt. And they waited. All five of them sat near the ramp or paced back and forth across main deck, alternating how they dealt with their restlessness while a silent hour passed, and then another. And another. Until Ophelia stopped keeping track of how long it had been, but the eastern moon, Crur, was high above them. Then, finally , there was a squeak followed by the scrabbling of tiny paws up the ramp, and her small black mouse with its tiny glowing heart returned .

“It’s time,” she told the others as she scooped the mouse into her hand, and dispelled it with a wave of her other.

Carolina stood and leaned over the bulwark to squint into the darkness. “Looks like the harbormaster is asleep at his station.”

They all stood, looked around nervously at each other, and nodded without saying anything else. Carolina led the way down the ramp, and Ophelia followed closely behind and was trailed by the others. Each of them glanced back and forth warily as they reached the docks, searching for any other people around as they crept through the shadows toward Sky’s Honor.

After waiting so nervously for so long, it almost felt as if things were suddenly moving too quickly. Before Ophelia could tell herself that the moment was fast approaching, they were standing in the darkness across the dock from Sky’s Honor, and the others were all looking at her. She swallowed hard, nodding around to answer the unspoken question in each of their eyes.

Carolina asked anyway, “Are you ready?” She nodded again, and Carolina pulled one of her daggers and held it out to her. “Here.”

Ophelia shook her head, inhaling a shaky breath as she gestured with the hand tucked into a pocket of her own coat. “I have one.”

Carolina gestured her chin at Berkeley and Rue. “You two, go.” They hurried off, and Carolina set her hands against either side of Ophelia’s face and kissed her. “You’re going to be fine,” she said encouragingly, still cupping her cheeks. “I’m not moving from this spot.”

Ophelia nodded once more, and though she wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug Carolina, she kept her trembling hands hidden deep in her coat pockets. “Let’s go,” she told Carter.

She made a quick scan of the ship’s deck to ensure no guards were peering over the bulwark in their direction, and then led Carter swiftly across the docks toward it. They both crouched down behind a stack of crates near the dock lines, in view of the barred gates of the stable bays set into the outer hull.

“I’ll try to be quick,” she said, and motioned her hands in front of her to make herself invisible.

She didn’t give herself any more time to think or prepare, and left Carter behind for the ramp. She tiptoed up it, taking her time so as not to make any noise or cause too much movement, and stopped at the top to check for guards. There were two, but they were at the bow end of the ship, leaning against the bulwark and talking to each other rather than scanning for intruders.

Not that they could see her anyway as she traversed away from the ramp and toward the stable levers. Fourth one from the left was what Carter had said, and she made sure the guards were still inattentive before reaching for it. She pulled it down slowly, keeping her ears alert for any noises the gate might make as it was opening, until it was positioned all the way down.

Then she leaned over the bulwark to watch for Carter, who raced out from behind his cover toward the edge of the docks. He called for Kip in a barely audible whisper and threw himself off the edge, and Kip dove out of his stall, swooping so perfectly under Carter that Carter landed on his back. They flew back up and thudded quietly on the end of the dock, where Carter dismounted just long enough to take the saddle from Kip’s mouth and put it on the draken’s back, and then he mounted again and held on tight while Kip clawed silently up the ship to cling to the hull. Just as Carter was finished, it seemed Rue had skillfully completed her task as well, because Carolina stepped out of the shadows just enough for Ophelia to see her wave.

That was it, then. There was only one thing left for her to do.

The door to the captain’s cabin toward the stern end of the ship was closed, and there was no light coming through the small window at the top of it. Ophelia floated over to it, gave the handle one careful, hopeful twist, and found it locked. She reached into her pocket to grab the key, only to find that her hands were shaking again as she pulled it out. And she took aim, lining the key up with the hole, but she didn’t dare try sticking it in. Not when the trembling of her hands would shake it noisily in the lock.

But she couldn’t get them to stop. She grabbed her key-holding hand with her other, squeezing it to try and force it into submission, but it defied her. She shook her hands out at her sides to try and fling the fear away, but it wouldn’t dislodge from her bones. Nothing she did would make it stop. Not shutting her eyes to focus on her next steps. Not taking in several long, slow, deep breaths to try and calm the racing of her heart. She just couldn’t do it.

Only, she had to do it, didn’t she? Because there was no telling how many people would suffer and die if Simon reached Ascension, and she’d never forgive herself for giving up.

Fine , she thought, do it scared. Do it terrified. Just do it .

She took another deep breath, pushing the fear deeper into herself instead of away from herself, and her hand finally stilled. She stuck the key into the keyhole, and pressed her ear to the door as she began to turn it, listening for any noise. After several seconds, she managed to undo the lock completely, and she safely tucked the key back into her pocket before reaching for the handle a second time.

She twisted; it gave. She eased the door open one millimeter at a time, nearly holding her breath so that no other sound would overshadow the noise of the hinges if they creaked. But she’d gone slowly enough that they didn’t, and she stopped as soon as there was enough space for her to slip through.

Once inside, she froze, listening for a handful of moments to the sound of Simon’s sedate breathing, keeping that sound at the forefront of her mind as she turned to close the door behind her. With it shut securely, she turned around and froze yet again. She stood there, as still and breathless as a statue while her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she surveyed the cabin.

The bed was to the back on the right side of the room and there were no obstacles between it and her, and that was all she needed to know. She reached into her coat, closed her fingers around the hilt of her knife, and eased it out of her pocket. However false it may have been, it brought her some sense of safety to have the weapon out and clenched firmly in her hand, and she held on to that feeling as she brought her first foot forward.

She tested the step before setting all her weight on it, ready to lift and find another spot at the first sign of creaking wood. Then she did it again. And again. And it took ages for her to cross the cabin, especially as she nearly bolted every time Simon’s breath came out even slightly irregular, but eventually, she’d made it. She stood at his bedside, staring down at him as he lay on his back, the blankets draped around his waist so that his bare chest was perfectly exposed.

It couldn’t have been any easier. He couldn’t have made himself any more vulnerable to her, and yet, her hands carried on again. Trembling. And she almost let it distract her. Almost let it give her pause so that she lingered there without action, but she was too close not to finish it, and it didn’t matter if her hands were unsteady. She wasn’t performing surgery. She didn’t need to be neat. All she needed to be was accurate, and now that she’d marked his position, she could locate his heart with her eyes closed .

So, she didn’t give herself another moment. She raised her knifed hand to her shoulder, lined up the blade with the center of his chest, and felt her own heart drop right through her ribcage. She didn’t know how, or why. Maybe she’d lifted her arm too quickly and Simon had felt the breeze. Maybe she’d inhaled too sharply and too loud with the motion. But Simon’s eyes shot open.

Though he didn’t see her, he reacted as quickly as she did, grabbing blindly at the invisible threat as she plunged the knife downward. He let out a sharp grunt of pain as his fingers closed around the blade, and though Ophelia had the advantage of position, he was so much stronger, and the strength of his arm stopped her momentum before she managed to drive the knife into his heart. She dropped her spell as she added her other hand around the hilt, but Simon grabbed her wrist with his other hand at the same time to add to his fortitude.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything other than brace against her because she’d pierced him with the very point of the blade. The blood from his fingers was pooling with the blood seeping from the bit of knife buried in his chest, and he was using every bit of his concentration and might to keep her from pushing it the rest of the way.

But she couldn’t move either, because he’d stopped her momentum before she was able to pierce his sternum. She couldn’t withdraw the knife and try to stab him again without him moving and fighting back, but she needed that momentum to penetrate bone, and she was throwing all her weight against the pommel to no avail. He was too strong, and all they could do was strain against each other in the stalemate.

She tried . She tried so damn hard that her teeth gnashed with the effort to drive the knife through. But he was trying just as hard. He stared straight into her eyes as his face vibrated with strain, spittle flying off his pursed lips as he exhaled through the visceral fight for survival.

And she’d failed. She knew she’d failed because at any second his adrenaline-fueled panic would wear off and his training would kick in. He’d remember how to get her off of him and gain the upper hand. And he seemed to realize that at the same time as she did, because the fear in his eyes faded, and the tiniest of smiles reached one corner of his lips.

She didn’t give him a chance to gain the upper hand.

She let go of the knife and turned on her heels, altering the wind at her back and bolting for the door before he could even sit up. She whipped the door open, gasping in shock and pain as her thrown knife skimmed her left trapezius as it whizzed by. She didn’t let it stop her. She raced out of the cabin as Simon’s feet slammed to the floor behind her.

“Carter!” she screamed, aiming for the starboard stern.

The sound of splintering wood cracked behind her, and she glanced back just in time to dodge the chunk of broken barrel that Simon sent flying at her. She reached the bulwark as that piece of wood crashed into the railing, and she dove overboard without a second thought. She fell through the air and past the edge of the island, narrowly missing hitting the corner of the dock, and twisted herself around so she was facing down.

Kip plunged beneath her, and she slammed across his back in front of Carter so hard on her belly that it knocked the wind out of her. Carter’s hand grabbed the back of her shirt to keep her steady as Kip swooped back upward and she gasped for air.

“Are you alright?” Carter asked.

She nodded, ignoring the pain in her chest as Carter scooted back enough for her to sit up in the saddle in front of him, and she immediately searched for Simon.

Simon hadn’t summoned something to chase after her because Carolina, Berkeley, and Rue were still on the docks. He was in pursuit with several soldiers at his tail, but he’d also summoned a veltis, and it was charging at the others as they sprinted toward Omen.

“Run FASTER!” she screamed at them.

The veltis was sprinting at them on all fours, and they weren’t fast enough. It was closing the distance several feet at a time. It would catch them before they ever made it to safety, and Simon looked so furious that she didn’t doubt the veltis would rip them to shreds.

Ophelia breathed into her hands, summoning the shadow of a draken on the docks ahead of the others, and it took form just as the veltis reached them. The veltis swiped at Carolina’s legs, catching one of her ankles and taking her to the ground. It stood up onto its back feet and raised its razor-sharp claws high into the air, and as it brought those claws down, her draken reached it.

The draken slammed into it, and the two shadows rolled across the deck in an echo of snarls and snapping teeth, slashing at each other without pause. Berkeley and Rue each grabbed one of Carolina’s arms to pull her up and continued running, but Simon’s fury made him focused, and he didn’t let his veltis keep wrestling with her draken. He dispelled its shadow and immediately began to summon another. A mistling. One he’d undoubtedly use to catch up to her and Carter, and the last thing she wanted was to take that fight in the air.

“Take us down,” Ophelia told Carter, dispelling her draken.

“What?”

“Take us down, now!” she yelled. He obeyed, and they swooped down and landed with a heavy thud on the docks in front of the others. “Take Rue to the ship and send Kip back for Berkeley and Carolina,” she told him.

He nodded, hauling Rue into the saddle behind him and then taking off. Ophelia summoned her own mistling as Carolina and Berkeley sprinted past her, and then mounted and caught up, helping them both onto the back of her shadow.

But Simon was catching up from his own mistling’s back, and she didn’t know what he’d do once he did. He was unarmed, barefoot, and bleeding from the wound in his chest and hand, but he had his rage. And as his mistling finally got close, he acted.

The shadow creature dug its heels in and came to such a sudden stop that it threw Simon from its back. Simon launched into the air, twisting around as he dispelled his shadow and aiming himself directly at them. He altered the air around himself to come shooting down, and it happened so quickly that she didn’t have time to stop or swerve.

His fist narrowly missed her head, but it collided with the head of her mistling and smashed the creature down, slamming its chin with such force into the dock that the shadow dispelled instantly, and his knuckles splintered the wood beneath them. The change in speed as her mistling stopped and then disappeared sent all three of them flying. They crashed to the dock several yards ahead, tumbling painfully across the wood.

Before she’d even stopped rolling or had time to register all the scrapes and bruises and pain, Simon caught up to her. He grabbed the collar of her shirt and coat in one fist, and used the momentum of her skid to lift her into the air and slam her back down. Pain shot through her spine and into her lungs, and she wheezed as Simon stood over her and lifted his fist to strike her again. Through the blur of agonized tears in her eyes, she dodged her head just in time to avoid the blow as the wood cracked beside her ear.

Even if she was still struggling for breath, she didn’t give him a chance to punch again. She altered the air around her hands as she sat up, striking both palms directly against the center of his chest, and the hit lifted him off the ground and sent him crashing down several feet away.

He rolled onto his stomach with a growl, and regained his feet in a matter of moments only to stomp toward her again. She crawled backward to try and get away, but every motion was excruciating, and she was still struggling for the air she’d lost upon impact. She didn’t have the breath to fight back. All she could do was kick out with her foot, and though she hit him in the stomach, he caught her ankle and tossed it aside. He stood above her and reached out once more to grab her, but stopped short as the crack of a gunshot echoed through the air.

He straightened away from her as a fresh spot of blood formed above his right pec, and though it wasn’t a death sentence, it was enough to give him pause. He glanced down at the wound, chest heaving for breath as his brow furrowed. He turned that glare on Carolina, who still had her pistol aimed directly at him even though she’d used her shot, and his eyes widened when he saw Berkeley taking aim for a second one. He motioned one of his hands toward the side of the docks, ripping one of the thick beams from the end and pulling it in front of him just as Berkeley fired. The bullet pelleted into the wood, and Simon flung the wood over the edge of the island and glared at them, his whole body tensed as he leaned forward and let out a furious, blood thirsty shout.

But he didn’t advance. Or retaliate. He turned away from them and toward the soldiers that were just catching up. “ Get back to the ship!” he screamed at them. “Prepare for a fight!”

“Ophelia?” Carolina asked, sliding to her knees at Ophelia’s side. “Are you alright? Ophelia?” Ophelia lifted her head off the dock, and despite the pain in every bone in her body, she nodded.

“He’s going to get healed,” she breathed through gulps of air. “We have to go.” She adjusted onto her hands and knees to begin trying to stand. “We have to run.”

Carolina helped her up, running her hands over her face and shoulders as she looked her over for injuries. “ Can you run?” she asked. Just as Ophelia shook her head, Kip landed beside them. “Berkeley?”

Berkeley lifted one of Ophelia’s arms over his shoulders and scooped her up to put her on Kip’s back, and then he and Carolina climbed on too. They were too heavy for the draken to fly, but it sprinted back to Omen and up the ramp, where Rue and Carter were waiting for them with at least half the crew .

“What happened?” Rue asked. “Are you all hurt?”

“He retreated to his ship,” Berkeley said as he slid off Kip’s back.

“That’s not good…” Carter murmured. “Is it?”

“Get us out of here!” Carolina shouted to the crew. “And get ready. We’re going to be attacked.”