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Then I need to get onto that first boat and arrange for several ropes to be cast forward .

It’d probably be easier for her to grab multiple ropes rather than just one, and if the saker sitting at the bow of the boat could haul in a pod of white fins—the largest fish to call these seas home—then it’d surely have the strength to withstand the forces a drakkon could bring to bear.

Or at least it should for the few hours we needed it to hang on.

I fly low.

You drop .

It was said in a blasé manner, as if leaping off her back and landing on the pitching, crowded deck would be the easiest thing in the world to do rather than one of the riskier things we’d tried in the short time we’d united against our common foe.

It’s far too crowded for me to jump safely onto the deck of that boat.

It’s better if I aim for the water and swim to the nets everyone else is using.

It also means you don’t have to worry about clipping the mast with your wings or tail.

Not that careless.

Mistakes happen , I said, amused.

My mistakes meant.

I laughed and tugged the bow and sword from my shoulders.

If I was going in the water, it was better to do so without anything that could hamper my movements.

I clipped them to the rope leashed around her front spine, on the opposite side to the hooded quiver—

a suggestion Mom had made, and one designed to keep the arrows in place if Kaia banked sharply or turned upside down—and my backpack, which contained not only food and medical supplies, but also a scribe quill and tablet.

Scribes—which used magic to pair one quill with another, meaning what one wrote on one tablet, the other copied onto its pair—were a recent development, but now used widely throughout the mainland and the islands simply because they weren’t restricted by distance, though being deep underground did hamper effectiveness.

Mom had started insisting I carry one whenever I went aloft with Kaia, and given the number of times misfortune had chased our tails over recent days, it certainly made sense.

Fly straight up once I jump, I said to Kaia.

There’s an old harpoon saker aboard that boat and one of the men down there might be fast enough to fire it at you.

What saker?

I hesitated.

It’s similar to a ballista, but the bolts are smaller and have a multi-pronged head designed to lodge into flesh.

Of course, drakkon scale was far tougher to penetrate than white fin, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t cause her harm.

They fire, you burn.

There was a hint of anger in that snapped command.

She might have been very young when the ballistas had been in action, but she obviously hadn’t forgotten the damage they’d done.

I’ll try.

Not try, do.

And that, right there, was my queen speaking.

With another grin, I unlocked my harness from the front ropes and kicked my feet out of the stirrups.

Let’s get this done.

She didn’t reply.

She simply tucked in her wings and dropped.

The force of our descent flung me back, and a gasp escaped my lips, the sound torn away by the rain and the wind whipping past.

Her chuckle ran through the back of my thoughts but before I could say anything, she banked sharply and said, Jump.

I scrambled to my feet and leapt high, not forward but back, over her wing and past her hind legs and tail as she shifted position and rose vertically.

Then I was dropping fast toward the unnaturally calm sea.

After checking I was in no danger of landing on anyone, I crossed my legs at the ankles and held them tightly together in an effort to avoid them being forced apart by the impact. Then, after clutching my right elbow tightly with my left hand and holding it close to my chest, I used my right hand to cover my mouth and pinch my nose tightly closed—all the things the yearly evacuation drills Esan’s sailors were taught as a matter of course, and everything I’d forgotten to do the one time I had been caught in a sinking boat. Of course, I also hadn’t really had time to think about protocols—I’d been too busy trying to free myself from the chunk of wood dragging me ever deeper into the black depths.

But that experience had taught me just how damn cold the water would be, and the last thing I needed was to be instinctively sucking in a breath that was nothing but sea.

Shouts filled the air, drawing my gaze to the boat.

They’d seen me.

What they thought about my sudden appearance I’d uncover soon enough.

I hit the water feet first and plunged deep.

Shock rippled through me, and a gasp rolled up my throat, but I fought the urge to release it or suck in air and started kicking toward the surface I really couldn’t see, guided by instinct and the occasional bubble that drifted past my face.

When I broke the surface, I quickly spun around, looking for the boat.

Saw the now listing remains of the second boat and the half dozen people in the water between it and the sole remaining one.

It was a good one hundred feet away from where I was bobbing, and while I was no swimmer, even I could make that distance easily enough.

I kicked toward it and then reached out to Kaia.

You there?

Where else be? No sweet water beasts here to tempt.

And thank goodness for that.

While white fins didn’t actively hunt humans, there was a lot of blood and plenty of bodies in the water, and even if it didn’t attract their attention, it would eventually attract other predators.

I reached the net hanging over the side of the boat about the same time as the last of the six refugees from the burning boat and clambered up, my wet gloves protecting my hands from the rope’s salty harshness.

Two people helped me over the gunwale then stepped back, letting me flop in an untidy, shivering heap to the deck.

I ramped up my inner fires to chase away the chill then pushed upright. The soft murmur that ran around me was filled with suspicion and confusion, but none of them moved or even spoke to me.

Behind us, the second boat made a sound not unlike that of a dying beast, then split in two and sank beneath the waves.

The sea between us became rougher, but the bubble protecting this boat from the worst of the storm remained, meaning the air witch was on here somewhere.

“Out of my way, all of you,” came a gruff voice from the back of the crowd surrounding me.

They obeyed as well as they could, given the overcrowding, and a big, bald man with a wiry red beard long enough to be plaited appeared.

Though I didn’t recognize him, the ink decorating his bare arms said he was the captain of this vessel. “Who are you, and why the fuck are you dropping out the sky and the storm like that?”

“I’m Captain Bryn Silva, and I’m here to offer assistance getting your boat back to Hopetown.”

He scanned me for a second, his expression wary—and really, who could blame him for that? “How? It’s not like you came on another boat—we would have seen it if you had.

We’ve barrelmen in the nest.”

My gaze shot upwards.

There were two men stationed in the crow’s nest with long viewers held to their eyes.

These were longer than ones we sometimes used on scouting missions, so didn’t have such a limited range but did take longer to actually focus—the one factor that made them a little dangerous for us to rely on in tight situations needing a fast response. For watercraft, however, they were ideal. The two men also stood back to back—a clever means of covering the entire three-sixty-degree spectrum while avoiding the need to move or turn too far.

“I’ll explain later, Captain, but right now, I need to speak to your air witch, and I need you to attach the strongest net you have to that old harpoon and ensure the brakes on your saker are in good working order.”

“I’ll not be doing anything?—”

“Captain, we haven’t got time to debate this.” My tone was cold and authoritative—one I rarely used but had definitely learned from all the years of watching my father deal with those who procrastinated on decisions.

“We need to get underway now, before the things that attacked you come back.

And they will come back, probably at dusk.”

He scowled but nevertheless made a quick motion for me to follow him.

The crowd surrounding us parted again, though with the vessel so crowded it was hard to move with any sort of speed.

The air was thick with the scent of burned flesh and despair, and filled with the sound of crying, both children and not, and the soft murmurings of those trying to comfort them all.

We reached the forecastle and quickly moved up the steps.

There were perhaps a dozen people up here, and one man stood out—he was tall, thin, with silvery-gray hair that streamed behind him, caught in the stream of power that whirled lightly around his body.

The air mage.

The captain stopped to one side of him.

I stopped just behind the captain, my gaze scanning the mage.

His skin was pale, almost gray, his cheeks sunken, and his lips held a faint hint of blue—all telltale signs he was pushing his limits.

“What is it, Captain? I’m a little too busy for chitchat.”

The mage’s voice was at odds with the brusqueness of his words, his tone whispery and gentle.

A summer breeze rather than a raging storm, I thought.

“We’ve a woman here insisting on talking to you?—”

“Yeah, well, tell her to?—”

I stepped forward with a quick, “Ah, no, I won’t, because we both know your strength will give out within an hour—at best two—now that you stand alone, and you’re not going to get this ship and these people anywhere near Hopetown in that time.”

He glanced at me.

His eyes were silver and shone like the stars.

“And you have a plan to fix this matter?”

“I do.

In fact, I have a drakkon, and she will, with your help calming the seas directly in front of us, tow this boat to safety.”

“A drakkon ?” the captain and the mage said in unison, and then the captain added, “Has the drop into the sea addled your brains, woman?”

I mentally reached out to Kaia and then pointed a finger upward.

Kaia skimmed past us, her burnished gold scales gleaming like fire in the storm’s hazy light.

“The queen has decided to aid us against a common foe. And I will remind you, Captain, that I am the daughter of your king, and you will treat me with the deference that deserves.”

His gaze widened.

He honestly hadn’t realized who I was.

“I’m sorry?—”

“Captain,” I cut in, “please arrange for two of your strongest ropes to be attached to that harpoon and then use multiple others to anchor the saker down so it’s not torn out of the deck the minute she starts towing us.”

“It’s not going to be torn free—it handles white fin, so it can handle a drakkon.”

He obviously hadn’t taken in her full size.

Or maybe he’d simply never seen a drakkon in flight and had never witnessed the sheer power and speed their wings could generate.

“Humor me, Captain, and just do it anyway.

We’ll shoot the harpoon directly in front of us, and Kaia will swoop down, catch the ropes, and tow us.”

“With me easing the weight of the boat by calming the seas and the force of the wind around us,” the mage said.

I nodded.

He glanced up as Kaia disappeared back into the clouds.

“And you can really control that drakkon?”

“I don’t control her.

I ask her to do things, and she may or may not oblige.

She has consented to doing this.”

“Why?”

“Because the gilded riders—the people who destroyed Jakarra and, I presume, Kinara, given your presence here—killed one of her drakklings.

She wants revenge, she wants them all dead, and helping us is one way to achieve that.”

He studied me for a minute, then his gaze shifted to the captain.

“We’d better try this, Grant.

At the very least, it saves me the effort of pushing the boat forward while maintaining the bubble.”

The captain sniffed, a sound that suggested deep disagreement, but he nevertheless turned and began shouting orders.

In very little time, two heavy ropes were attached to the harpoon—which was as thick as my fist—while several others lashed the saker to gunwale cleats on either side of the boat.

“What next?” the captain said.

“We just shoot the harpoon out across the sea and hope your drakkon has good enough timing to catch the thing?”

“Timing won’t be a problem if your men do their job properly.”

Him annoying , Kaia said.

Should toss in water.

He’s just lost two boats and escaped Túxn only knows what catastrophe on the island.

We can cut him a little slack.

No cut slack. No like.

Neither did I, to be honest, although on the scale of unpleasantness, he was a lightweight—especially compared to my father-in-law.

Stay up until the harpoon shoots past, just in case their aim is off, and then grab the ropes.

Will.

I returned my attention to the air mage.

“When Kaia has the ropes, flow all your protections forward.

The calmer the seas and the air, the easier it’ll be for her to tow.”

When he nodded, I said to the captain, “Do it.”

The captain turned and made a sharp downward motion.

The winches were immediately employed to draw back the firing mechanism’s twisted cords.

Once they were locked into position, the harpoon was added and the saker aimed. The man at the release point glanced at the captain, who gave the final go-ahead.

The harpoon was released and shot like an arrow over the prow, the two ropes unspooling behind it.

It travelled straight and true for several hundred yards before it began to lose speed and trajectory, and it was at that point Kaia swept in and caught the ropes.

“Everyone hang on,” I shouted and grabbed at one of the ropes lashing the saker to a gunwale cleat.

The ropes between us and Kaia snapped taut, and her grunt of effort ran through our link a heartbeat before the boat lurched after her.

The sudden shift forward sent me stumbling, and I would have fallen had I not been holding on.

At least six or more people on this upper deck hadn’t been quick enough to heed my warning and were now lying in an ungainly heap on the deck. The captain wasn’t one of them, and there was a part of me that was rather sad about that. I daresay there’d been falls on the main deck, too, but they were so tightly packed together that, from where I was standing, it was hard to see anything more than a mass of confused and frightened faces.

The air streamed past my back, catching my long wet plait and tossing it forward.

The air mage—who hadn’t fallen, despite the fact he wasn’t holding on to anything—had redefined the limits of his air bubble and was now casting it forward to form a large expanse of calm out the front of the boat.

It was also far out enough to encase Kaia, allowing her to fly in air unaffected by the weight and fierceness of the storm that chased the boat’s stern.

The boat lurched again as the rope slipped between her claws.

A grumbly sound of annoyance filled our link, then she removed one clawed foot from the ropes and grabbed the dangling harpoon.

It was long enough to hold crossways in both claws, so she released her grip on the ropes and used the harpoon instead.

The boat lurched forward a third time as she snapped her wings down hard to get the boat moving again, then, as she found her rhythm, it began to cut through the glassy seas more evenly.

“Is that harpoon going to hold up against the stresses being put on it?” I asked.

The captain’s expression was an interesting mix of disbelief and awe.

“It should.

Like the saker, it was designed to hold double the weight of any white fin we caught.”

I’d have thought this boat, with all the people aboard, would have weighed far more than a couple of white fins, but the captain obviously knew his boat and the fish he hunted far better than me.

I watched Kaia for a couple of minutes, marveling at her sheer beauty and grace, then said, “Tell me, Captain, what happened in the caves? What forced the decision to evacuate everyone except fighting-age males?”

He grimaced.

“We could see the smoke coming from Illistin and knew she’d come under some kind of attack.

We immediately shifted the boats to a concealed harbor on the far side of the island and stocked the caves as best we could, but those winged bastards still caught us before the full retreat could be completed.”

Meaning, no doubt, that just like at Illistin—Jakarra’s main settlement—her fighting force had held the line as best they could while the retreat continued.

And, just like at Illistin, they’d most likely paid the ultimate price.

I frowned. “Didn’t you receive the missive from my father warning of the attack on Eastmead and the possibility of an ongoing threat to all five islands?”

“Not as far as I’m aware, but then, I am but a sea captain and not privy to security information.”

“But you’ve scribe quills on this boat, have you not?”

They might not have been able to use scribes in the mountain caverns, but if they’d docked these boats in a safe harbor, they should have been able to contact Esan about their plight when they were boarding everyone.

We might not have been able to send help, but we could have at least warned Hopetown to get ready for evacuees.

“No,” he said.

“What point are they in a fishing vessel such as this?”

“But if you sink?—”

“If sea or storm sinks us, despite the service of our mages, there is little point in scribing for help.

Rescue would never reach us in time.”

All of which was likely true, but it never stopped us sending our fleet out with tracking stones and scribe pens.

“But surely given you were evacuating the young and the old?—”

“I don’t question my orders, Captain Silva.

I just do.”