Page 17

Siobhan

As bad as the storm was on deck of the Audacity , up in the crow’s nest it feels ten thousand times worse. I keep a fistful of Bastian’s tunic in my grip as I haul him over the edge and we hunker down in the relative shelter. I hadn’t thought Nox was being dramatic when they said we very well might be struck by lightning, but up here, it’s certainly believable.

I don’t ask Bastian again if he can do this. We’ve come too far for that question. Instead, I ask, “What do you need from me?”

His light brown skin has gone a little green, but his expression is determined. “I need you to hold me steady so I can put my full concentration behind the glamour. I won’t be able to react in time if the ship tilts.”

“I won’t let you fall.” After some consideration, I grab a length of rope left from whoever was up here last and wind it through the rough slats in the wood. I loop one arm through the secured rope and one around Bastian’s waist, pulling his back to my chest. We’ve stood like this a thousand times, but that was before. Before the fight, before the rescue, before everything changed. I’m achingly aware of everywhere we touch and all the words we threw into the space between us, hurt and angry. We might very well die tonight, and there’s so much left unsaid.

“Siobhan…” I can barely hear Bastian over the shriek of the wind and rain, but his tone says his thoughts have mirrored mine.

“I’m sorry. I’ve said it before, but I truly mean it. You were right. You’ve been right this whole time. I’ve let my fear get in the way of what needs to be done. I’m sorry I held the entire rebellion back, and I’m sorry that I punished you when you rightfully called me out on it.”

He half turns so that he can see my face. Amusement lights his dark eyes despite our circumstances. “Is this a deathbed confession? Are you trying to ensure there’s nothing left unsaid between us since we’re probably going to die?”

His humor centers me the way nothing else could. I drag in a breath, some of the weight pressing down on me disappearing, and give him a little squeeze. “We’re not going to die. I won’t let you fall, and Nox will ensure the ship remains safe. Between the two of us, that’s as close to a guarantee of survival as you can get in these circumstances.”

“I suppose it is.” Slowly, inch by inch, he relaxes back against me. It feels so good that it’s almost enough to distract me from things happening below us. Bastian won’t form the glamour until we’re hidden from view, and Nox and Bowen seem intent on making that happen. Even as I watch, an uncanny fog appears above the water, perfectly resistant to the rain, and spreads like wildfire. Within seconds, it covers nearly a mile’s distance on either side of the ship and rises until I can no longer see the sea in our wake.

A sliver of fear goes through me. “They’re spending too much magic.”

Instead of arguing, Bastian tenses. “Has Nox used an amplification circle before? Surely they know that it drains your magic faster than normal.”

Since I didn’t fucking know that, I highly doubt Nox does. We’re not witches or sorcerers to rely on ritual to accomplish our aims. Elemental magic is as instinctive as my shifting forms. The worry inside me turns to something that’s almost like terror. “They’ll die.”

Bastian moves before I can, slithering out of my grip and giving me a light push. “Go. I can handle this. Get them out of that fucking circle.”

Even though I should argue, I don’t. His fear amplifies mine. “If you fall, I will find whatever underworld you go to and drag you back. Do you understand me?”

He hooks the back of my neck and tows me down for a quick kiss. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now go!”

I go. But only after ensuring he’s looped his arm through the rope. It’s not as strong as I am, and I should stay to ensure he’s okay, but the fog is still increasing, and even through the storm, I can see how waxy Nox’s complexion is. That little fool is drawing too much. Again. I don’t trust their crew to know their captain’s limits. Nox is too damn good at ignoring best practices and concern, at playing at being untouchable. Their crew won’t anticipate how close they are to the kind of burnout that results in death…but I will.

I make it halfway down the rigging before impatience takes hold of me and I jump the rest of the way. It’s a fall that would break a human’s bones, but I land easily and roll forward to eat up my momentum. And then I’m sprinting up the stairs and shoving my way through the thick magic coursing through the amplification circle. Evelyn tries to get in my way, but I dodge around her. “Get the wave going. Now!”

Bowen frowns but obeys. Concentration and tension roll through him, and the ship dips as the water rushes out from underneath us and rises in a massive wave from our wake. Higher and higher until surely it must be taller than Bastian’s position in the crow’s nest. In the back of my mind, I wonder why we don’t just try to drown our pursuers and be done with all this, but there will be space for questions after we survive this.

Nox is only going to survive this if I pull them out of this godsdamned circle. I loop them around the waist, my fear a live thing inside me when they don’t resist. Nox has been fighting since the moment they first drew breath. I would stake my life on it. And yet they’re almost perfectly limp as I sweep them into my arms and jump out of the amplification circle. The moment we leave it—or, more accurately, the moment Nox’s magic stops sustaining it—the circle dissolves, the rain plastering the chalk in foamy, milky rivulets over the deck.

Nox’s head lolls on their shoulders, and they blink up at me. “I wasn’t finished.”

“You almost killed yourself, you bloody fool.”

They blink again, slower this time. “You’re being very dramatic right now.”

“After we survive this, I’m going to tie you to your damned bed until you get some rest and refill your reserves properly.”

“Kinky.” But the word has none of their customary charm and flirtation. Instead, it’s slurred and almost undefinable. At this point, they’re lucky I don’t kill them myself.

I turn, not entirely certain of my plan, but I stop short when I see a perfect replica of the Audacity rise out of the fog next to us. And I do mean perfect. Bastian has re-created the crewmen rushing about on deck. I see my doppelg?nger arguing with Nox’s twin. He’s even replicated the mended tear in the mainsail.

I knew Bastian was powerful. I knew glamour was powerful. I’ve seen him use it to influence people, to protect those who cannot protect themselves, but I’ve never seen him use it like this . And he doesn’t even have an amplification circle in play. “Holy shit.”

Nox cracks their eyes open and curses softly under their breath. “At least he accurately portrayed how sexy I am.”

“Of course he did. He still loves you,” I say absently, my mind awash with the impossibility of this display of power. As Bowen’s wave carries us skimming faster and faster forward, the glamoured version of our ship angles northwest while we cut to the east. I’m having a hard time gauging if the phantom ship is moving at accurate speeds or not, but with magic in play, who’s to say what’s accurate and what isn’t? The storm and fog and waves further obscure the details. Surely this will work. It has to work.

Nox shivers in my arms. “Report! Someone give me a fucking report!”

Poet sprints up. She’s smarter than the rest of us, because she’s done away with her shirt entirely, wearing only a breast band and pants. The rain clings to her light brown skin and plasters her pants to her muscled thighs. “We’ll know soon enough if they’re following the glamour. We just have to put some more distance between us to ensure they take the bait.”

“Put me back in the amplification circle.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” I snap. “Even if the circle still existed—which it doesn’t—there’s no way I’m letting you pull a stunt like that. You’re already half dead—go back in and you’ll be full dead.”

Nox struggles, and it’s a testament to their weakness that they have no chance of breaking free. I don’t even have to tighten my hold. “Better me than the entire crew and ship. Put me back in.”

“Negative, Captain.” Poet motions frantically, and two crew members that I recognize but don’t know the names of rush forward. “Siobhan is right. The amplification circle is gone, but we can take what you’ve done and continue it.”

“It’s too much. They’ll harm themselves from trying.”

Poet and I exchange a look of perfect understanding. There’s absolutely no chance I am letting Nox back in that circle, even if the circle still existed. The fact that it doesn’t should be comforting, but this is Nox we’re talking about. They are so incredibly stubborn that they might go so far as to demand Evelyn create another one. I’m not going to give them a chance.

Poet turns and rushes toward the upper deck, the pair of crew members with her. Within a few minutes, the fog thickens around us again, so deep that I can’t see anything more than a foot away from the edge of the ship. It strikes me that we might be ruining Bastian’s chances to continue his glamour, but when I look up, I realize that the fog doesn’t quite reach the top of the crow’s nest.

I don’t know what to do. As the leader of the rebellion, I’ve always had an answer. It’s worrisome that the moment we have a proper confrontation and a true threat, I fall apart. But Nox doesn’t. Bastian doesn’t. Even the damn crew keeps it together better than I can. I’ve never felt more like an impostor than I do in this moment, standing in the midst of frenzied action while everyone else does what’s necessary to keep us alive.

“Oh, get that look off your face. You can be a hero next time.” Nox pats my cheek gently, and then their hand lingers there. “And don’t think for a second I missed that horrific lie about Bastian still loving me.”

I glance down at them, fully aware they’re creating a distraction. I’m grateful for it, though. “I only speak the truth.”

“Another lie, Siobhan.” They smile a little, but their gray eyes are somber and serious. “We’re all sure to die before this is over. The only question is whether we survive long enough to bring lasting change…or if we go down as a footnote in Threshold’s history as fools with stars in their eyes, wishing for a better world.”

“We’ve already created change. Bastian was correct. It’s not enough. We need to take more direct steps, but it doesn’t change the fact we’ve done so much good over the years. We’ve saved so many lives, communities, and given people a cause to believe in.”

Nox’s eyes flutter closed. This time they don’t open again. They go limp in my arms, only their steady breathing reassuring me that they will be okay. The fact that they had the presence of mind to distract me even while fighting for consciousness humbles me on a level I’m not prepared to deal with.

Maybe I truly am an impostor, powerful only through an accident of birth. Yes, my family trained me in everything from leadership to commerce to community. Yes, I’ve done good work, but there are so many better leaders among the rebellion. Bastian and Nox primary among them.

Why the fuck do they even need me?