Page 19 of The Curse of Gods (The Curse of Saints #3)

For as much as Josie agonized over what awaited them when they returned to Trahir, she could not help but feel the tightness in her chest ease at the first glimpse of the sandstone palace on the horizon.

She could just make out Rinnia, a splash of rainbow color interrupting the blue of the sea and sky.

“Your leg is bouncing again,” Cole drawled. He was lounging on the large crate they’d situated themselves on some time ago, the wiry hair near his temples still damp with sweat from their earlier training.

Josie stilled her foot but shot her friend a look. “If it’s bothering you so much, you could find another place to rest.”

Cole moved his arm from where it was shielding his eyes from the sun and instead squinted up at Josie. “It’s not bothering me,” he said in that easy way of his. “But if you still have so much energy, maybe you should find someone to spar with?”

Josie grinned. “Not offering yourself, are you?”

Cole’s nose wrinkled as he pushed himself onto his elbows. “I’d rather not. But if you insist…”

“No, Cole,” Josie shook her head. “I’m kidding.”

“Oh. Well in that case…” Cole flopped back down into his supine position. “Wake me up when we get to the harbor.”

Josie bit back a scoff. She knew better to take Cole’s unaffectedness personally. It did not speak anything of his love for her, or Aidon, or their kingdom. He had, after all, snuck onto this very ship with Josie over a month ago to join a battle they were not approved to take part in.

She knew no one more loyal a friend than Cole.

Even still, she pushed herself from the crate and crossed the distance to the ship’s edge in three short steps, that antsy energy propelling her forward with purpose.

They’d hit unexpected weather on the Anath, vicious waves and furious wind that even their Caeli couldn’t calm, and it had delayed their journey even further after their stop in Milsaio, turning three weeks at sea into five.

She had spent the extra time trying to convince herself that Aleissande was right, that in the confusion of battle, no one would be certain of what they saw. That even if rumors had reached Trahir, they would be easily stamped out with logic or Zuri’s masterful political prowess.

That Aidon would be waiting for them, a king already returned home.

She could picture it easily now, with Rinnia growing closer and closer with the help of the headwind they caught.

She could envision Aidon standing on his favored terrace—the one just above their mother’s, where he and Josie had long since learned they could remain unseen but hear every bit of court gossip—watching their ships return.

She could see his easy grin, could feel the comforting weight of his hug, could hear the teasing lilt in his deep baritone as he reassured her that all was well.

You didn’t think something like that would be enough to keep me from our people, did you? He’d make a joke of it, would pretend he hadn’t been scared out of his wits on his own journey home.

But he would come home—because that was Aidon.

Duty. Responsibility. Loyalty.

Her brother embodied them all.

She only hoped her kingdom could see that, no matter what whispers had found their way across the Anath.

Josie tried to steady herself as the city grew closer. Before she knew it, they were anchoring in the deep waters, the skiffs waiting to take them to the crescent moon beach.

Cole had, astonishingly, fallen asleep. He grumbled when Josie roused him with a shove to his bony shoulder and a laugh, but she couldn’t help it. Upon first waking was the only time she saw Cole with what one could call an attitude, and it never failed to bring a smile to her face.

Josie checked the buckle of her sword belt just to have something to do with her hands while they anchored. Cole kept up a steady stream of commentary beside her, and she was grateful for it as she lowered herself into a skiff and tried to calm her racing heart.

Everything looked exactly as it had the day she left.

The sandstone palace still gleamed from atop the cliffs.

The emerald-green flag of Trahir, marked with a golden ship, still waved from atop the highest tower, the spear and sword flag of war rippling beneath it, just as Aidon had ordered.

People milled across the beach, taking advantage of the unusual but surely welcome breeze that offset Rinnia’s typical sweltering summer heat.

Josie closed her eyes as the skiff set sail and released a long breath.

The water was choppier than usual, the wind picking up strength the closer they got to the shore.

She let the splash of the salt water against her cheeks soothe her as she glanced across the small fleet of skiffs—five in total—and found Aleissande one over.

The general’s gaze was already on her, and she gave a steady dip of her chin in silent reassurance before turning back toward the beach.

Josie’s shoulders loosened even further. It pained her deeply to admit it, but Aleissande had been right. Surely, if something had happened, there would be some—

The whizzing of an arrow tore Josie from her thoughts. A firm grip on her shoulder yanked her out of its path, and Josie barely had time to register Cole and arrows and attack before all hells broke loose.

Arrow after arrow rained down on them, sending the soldiers scrambling.

Josie threw herself over Cole as a Caeli next to her constructed a shield of air to block the assault.

She could hear Aleissande barking orders from the other skiff, but they were lost to the screams of the unsuspecting Visya as they scrambled to organize some sort of counter.

“Into the water!” Aleissande yelled above the chaos.

Josie obeyed without a second thought, throwing her body sideways and crashing into the Anath, one hand still locked around Cole’s arm as she dragged him with her.

She lost her grip as a wave dragged her under.

Salt stung her eyes as they flew open instinctively, the current tossing her so violently she couldn’t tell which way was up.

Her hand reached out, her fingers finding the seafloor and digging deep into the sand.

With a push, she oriented herself, her boots kicking hard against the ground.

She burst through the surface with a violent gasp.

The waves slammed against her, but Josie held steady as she tried to get her bearings.

The Visya force had taken to the water under Aleissande’s command.

Some had flipped one of the skiffs to use as a shield, while the others were clustering around the Caeli who wielded the wind and sent the arrows off their course.

Aleissande was at the center, urging them forward, toward the beach, the ship too far to seek refuge.

“Cole!” Josie yelled over the din. She couldn’t see him.

A body bumped into her, a member of the force floating face down with an arrow lodged in his back.

Josie swallowed her flash of grief and shoved the body away as she scrambled forward.

Her gaze flitted around wildly, scanning the rough waters for Cole.

“Cole! Cole!”

A wave pushed one of the abandoned skiffs toward her, and Josie shoved a shoulder against it, staggering beneath the force. A hand latched around her bicep and tugged.

Aleissande.

“I need to find Cole,” Josie panted.

“You need to get to the beach and disappear,” Aleissande ordered, her voice clipped.

“I need to find Cole!”

“He is not your responsibility!”

But he was. He wouldn’t be here if not for Josie sneaking aboard the ship. Just like Aidon wouldn’t have wielded his fire if Josie hadn’t insisted on joining the battle.

What had she done?

Josie’s feet found firmer purchase as they waded into shallower water.

The arrow fall had lessened, and it allowed the Visya to shed the skiff as they pushed forward.

Josie’s gaze locked onto the attackers—those she had mistaken for bystanders on the beach.

They were not dressed in any form of livery, nor bore any uniformity that she could see.

They did not look like the Kakos soldiers they’d fought in Milsaio or Tala. But she did not have time to dwell on who they were or where their loyalties lay, not as they charged toward the water with a resounding cry that was answered in kind by the Visya force.

She drew her sword, her mind honing in on the task at hand:

Survive.

Josie drove her blade into the gut of the first man she could reach. He fell with a splash, his blood seeping into the clear blue like watercolor on a canvas.

She found no beauty in it.

But it did not stop her from swinging her blade with deadly precision as she took down another, and another.

She was on the beach before she knew it, and seven hells, there were more , so many of them that she could not see how the Visya force could possibly overpower them, even with their affinities.

The crescent moon beach was a cacophony of screams of the injured and grunts of fury and metal clanging, all backed by the crackle of Incend fire and howl of Caeli wind and—

Josie paused, her eyes scanning the beach.

They weren’t fighting with affinities. The attackers, they weren’t—

Josie’s observation was cut short as a woman came at her with a dagger. Josie ducked, her body twisting as she evaded the woman’s assault, and in the next breath, Josie’s blade found her neck.

She sliced true, blood seeping from the woman’s pale skin as her sword drew across her neck…

Right below her rose tattoo.

“Fucking hells,” Josie breathed.

The Bellare.

How were there so many of the rebel group here? And where the hells was the City Guard? Hells, where was the Royal Army?