Page 35 of Stars Above the Never Sea (The Last Faeyte #1)

His eyes widen. And in the reflection of his scarlet iris, there is spreading darkness. Wings . And my own face as those wings spread out behind me; far, far larger than my own.

“Get down!”

Rio’s weight slams into me, taking us both to the floor as I lose the air in my chest. My shoulder smacks into the wood, Rio landing on top of me.

Cool air gusts over us as something swoops, before pulling away. Gasping, I roll onto my side as he pushes off me with a hasty apology. “What in Ellas are wraiths ?”

He grabs my arm, pulling me to my feet and pushing me toward the stairs. “Go!”

But he doesn’t go that way. He sprints past me, and I whirl at the cry in his throat.

Esme is pressed back against a set of crates, her face ashen as she slowly reaches for the swords at her back.

Horror swamps me at the creature that hovers in the air, blocking her way.

Travelers tell many stories. Of heroes, and legends, and gods. Many of love, although those never interested my sisters, since we could not understand them. But of all the stories, the ones spoken to strike fear into the hearts of those listening were always my least favorite.

And this thing—this creature —looks as though it’s been torn straight from the lips of a Traveler on a dark winter night. As though it’s climbed up from the abyss below our feet to stalk and hunt and feast and drag its prey back down into the darkness.

It looms over Esme. Eight, maybe nine feet, shoulders bony and hunched and curved. Torn, broken wings flare out, jagged, razor-sharp edges slamming into Rio and sending him sprawling across the deck. Indecision and fear lock my feet into place.

He does not get up.

When Esme screams his name, fear thick in her cry, the creature pulls back its neck and screams back at her.

It is almost a parody, I realize in dawning terror. A parody of a faeyte.

Twisted beyond thought, beyond imagination, beyond any tale I ever heard on a dark night that had me running to Nyx and Celeste for cool hands and quiet comfort.

There are only dark, pitted voids where there should be eyes, and a mouth that opens too wide. A broken, distended jaw, clicking and dislocating, revealing layers of spindling, razor sharp teeth, each as long as my finger and packed in tight, terrifying rows.

Hala, what did you do, what did you do—

They had named us monsters.

And so Hala has shown them what a real monster can be.

Agony . The monster’s cry holds pain, and terror, and agony, and wetness spreads down my legs as I stumble back, my nails tearing strips from the wood as I grip the railing.

But Esme—

“Leo!” My head twists. Merrick staggers, almost falling as the ship shifts. He shoves a stool aside, as if the boy might be behind it, playing a game. “ Leo !”

Oh, gods—

Callan . I push myself upright, my breath heaving. Callan, where is Callan—

Hands land on my shoulders. Warm, safe—

Callan pulls me back, his voice hissing in my ear. “Get below.”

I find my voice. “Merrick can’t find Leo.”

“We’ll find him. Go!”

He throws himself past me. Sol follows, both of them with their swords out. Callan runs for Esme. She tries to get past the wraith, only to be knocked back with a lethal, sharp-edged set of claws at the end of long, twisted, misshapen arms, the bones almost breaking through the paper-white skin.

Sol races toward Merrick, his head swiveling as he looks around.

He can’t call out, I realize. Not with the pretium on him. He can only look.

“Leo!” The cry bursts free from my mouth.

I can’t leave. Even the thought of it is abhorrent, of leaving them here to fight off a nightmare, of leaving Leo unfound and Rio unmoving.

I will not run this time.

“Leo!” I scream it again, turning, searching. But there’s no sign of him anywhere.

Ahead of me, Callan slides along the deck on his knees between Esme and the wraith before jumping to his feet. He lifts his sword, and the creature hisses. Esme ducks around him, dropping to her knees beside Rio and rolling him over. Her hands come away stained with blood.

My heart stutters, skips a beat. But I keep searching, keep shouting. My feet finally, finally , move, and I race past them, past the nightmare that swipes at Callan once more. He ducks out of the way.

And he stumbles.

The ship tilts, as if a link has snapped. Volatus tilts, and I slide to the right, fighting to keep my feet beneath me.

Gasping, Callan steadies himself. “Esme – take Rio! Take him and go!”

His eyes sweep the deck and then land on me, widening. Callan bellows at me, furious and blazing as he straightens. “ Why in Ellas are you still up here ?”

The wraith, between us, begins to turn.

“ No ,” he snarls. His sword slashes, though it only glances off the creature. “You’ll look at me.”

But it keeps turning, slow and deliberate. Until those voids are somehow focused on me. A chill pebbles my skin, the hairs on my arms and neck raising as that vast, misshapen head tilts to the side.

The creature screams again, and my ears pop from the sheer shrillness. Frozen, I stare up at it as it steps closer.

Claws swipe. I stumble back, barely hearing Callan’s roar of fury. A line of fire erupts across my chest. “Run!”

This time, I obey. Calls for Leo still echo, Merrick’s desperation increasing as I push myself backward. But the creature follows. Its feet, closer to talons with those long, sharp claws, clack against the deck as it stalks me.

Callan darts between us, his back to me as he faces it head-on. “Come on, you gods-damned filth. Try a real fight.”

I almost don’t hear it over the chaos. The small, terrified cry. “Merrick!”

We all stop. Me. Callan. And… the wraith. I follow that endless gaze as it turns, fixing on the small boy clinging to the railings behind the rudder.

“Leo! Don’t move.” Merrick’s shouting. “I’m coming for you. Stay there .”

Oh, gods, the terror in his voice. The creature turns. When Callan tries to intervene, it swipes again, tossing him aside as easily as flicking a feather.

He crashes to the floor several feet away.

“No,” I breathe. But the wraith steps past me, bones grinding and whirring in a hideous cacophony as it half walks, half crawls up the steps to where Leo stands.

Leo sobs. He pushes himself back against the railing, his feet scrabbling against the winding rope.

He climbs up the wood, as if he can escape the nightmare that stalks him.

When he stops, he’s balanced precariously, unable to go any further.

My heart leaps into my mouth at the small, petrified plea that tears from his throat. “Merrick!”

But Merrick’s not close enough. Callan groans, pushing himself up.

His head moves back and forth, shaking off the blow as the ship dips and tilts.

Merrick goes down a few feet from Leo as Volatus moves beneath us once more, his feet missing the step as it drops beneath him and sending him crashing to his knees.

None of us are close enough.

And Leo—

My scream echoes Merrick’s as he vanishes.

Just…vanishes. He tumbles overboard, and only silence remains.

Perhaps it’s in my head. Because there should be sound.

Merrick grabs the handrail, hoisting himself up and running as if there’s anything he can do.

Callan roars in silent fury. Sol stumbles down beside me, landing on his knees.

He says nothing, for there is nothing he can say.

But his face is wet, soaked with sweat and emotion as his head falls.

All I hear is the beating of the wings that begin to shift and push together, tendons grinding as the wraith launches itself from the ground. A swishing, thumping noise fills my ears as it twists, swooping low over my head and up , spiraling into the void before it vanishes from sight.

Leo.

I stagger to my feet. At my back, my wings drape.

But there is no copper in them to stop me from flying. Not anymore.

I blink. And I see Deva, showing me a small nest that had taken residence in her garden as I trailed behind her, fidgeting and wondering when I’d be let free from my lessons. The tiny birds, fluffed and glistening, beaks opening and closing, had captured my attention.

They will fly, she had said gently. She had looked at me and smiled. One day, they will fall from the nest, and they will fly. It is how we all learn.

I don’t think.

My feet slam against the steps as I race up, across the deck and past Merrick. I don’t look back. If I am to be without a fate, without a Calling, then I claim this one for myself.

And I throw myself over the edge.