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AERI

PORT OF CHARM, GAYA

W ell, I guess it’s time to go kill my father.

Yeah, that thought is a little weird, but it’s midnight, and we’re leaving Rose Palace to go do exactly that.

As we ride under the last monsoon moon, I search my heart for any regret or doubt, but honestly, I feel nothing. My father was just fine with my rape, murder, or various demise at the hand of his brother, and I’ve come to be less than concerned with his well-being.

All things being equal, I’d rather not be the one to kill him, but in the end, the choice is him or the people I love. That’s an easy decision.

The warm, salty breeze blows through my shoulder-length hair, and I remember the cold winds of the Light Mountains in Khitan.

This can’t be the choice between loves that the amarth prophesied.

But with how the mythical birds protect their eggs, maybe they assumed I had a relationship with my father.

The joke’s on them.

“Are you okay?” Royo asks.

It’s the sixth time he’s asked that question tonight. His scarred face is troubled, his eyebrows knit, but I love that he cares.

“I’m good,” I say with a smile.

We ride along the Perimeter Road past where Mikail drowned those soldiers last night. I search the stone and the beach, and nothing is left of the archers. Something about that strikes me as sad, even though I know they would’ve happily slaughtered us.

Mortals are but shadows and reflections.

The thought comes from somewhere inside my brain, but it didn’t sound like me. So, that’s weird. It was almost like hearing voices.

I shake off the oddness. I don’t have time for this right now.

It takes around a bell for the twelve of us to reach the Port of Charm.

It’s me and Royo, Mikail, Teo and Calier, Fremo, and the six men he found.

The men range in age from fifty to the youngest, Duval, who is around my age.

They all said their names before, but I don’t remember them except for Duval, who has dark skin and a smattering of freckles.

We reach the port, and it’s a far simpler space than the Port of Rahway or Quu Harbor. The main purpose is obviously docking the barges of laoli. The port holds a variety of other ships and docks, along with a large building at the end. This is also where the ferry comes in from Tamneki.

As I look across the water, the lights of the capital burn in the distance. Well, not all of them. Around ninety-five Weian warships block some of my view. Their sails are all folded, the ships as sleek as possible to avoid detection.

Mikail leads us down a dock. The twelve of us are dressed in black and nearly disappear into the night. Well, other than Royo’s heavy footsteps on the planks.

Sora and Tiyung aren’t here—they’re still at the palace with Fallador. I was surprised that Sora agreed to stay behind, but we do have a hostage to watch. Sort of. It’s more like safekeeping. Mikail likes Fallador more than he’ll admit, even to himself.

Best not to think about that whole complicated thing right now. We have another deadly mission starting in moments.

A man in a boat signals us. I recognize him—he’s the head of household of Rose Palace. Wan, I think is his name. But why are we getting into a rowboat? I thought we were pulling the ship to us.

“Aren’t we running the ship aground?” I whisper to Mikail.

He leans toward me, still staring at the capital. “No, because the soldiers would be jolted from their beds as their ship hit the beach and then we’d have to battle a hundred men. If we row out and raise our boat to the king’s ship, we can use stealth. It’s fewer lives and less danger.”

Fair enough, I guess.

“Your Majesty, I beg your pardon.” Fremo makes a deep bow.

“Granted,” Mikail says.

“Which boat is King Joon’s? With their sails and flags down, they all look alike.”

He tries to be extra formal with Mikail. It’s sweet, really.

“Joon’s ship was leading the fleet through the strait,” Mikail says. “I assume his will be the one closest to Tamneki, but we’ll look for the flag as we get closer. Only two ships have them.”

My mouth drops open, and I catch Royo’s eye.

I thought Mikail already knew which one we were targeting.

He seemed so certain in the war room that I didn’t question him.

Joon’s boat could be front and center in the fleet, like he thinks, but it could also be at the very back, since kings normally command from the safest location.

My palms itch, and an icy feeling takes hold of me. I stare out at the identical ships. This is the equivalent of finding a needle in a haystack. A one in a hundred chance, and all our advantage will be lost if we choose the wrong one.

We’ll also probably die.

I can’t—no, I won’t risk Royo.

“Mikail, we need to abandon this,” I say. “We need a new plan.”

He knits his eyebrows. “You said yourself that it has to be tonight.”

I sigh. “Because I thought you knew which ship was his. We have to know for certain. We need daylight and the flags up. Maybe if we wait here until daybreak, we can use the chaos of the battle to—”

Mikail shakes his head. “He could be leading the fleet, and there would be no way to discreetly get to him.”

The gold of the Water Scepter shines in his hand under the moonlight.

These fucking relics. Mikail is not thinking clearly.

Either the toll or the need for vengeance is muddling his mind.

He wants blood and power, and his ambition is causing him to be overeager.

The chances of my father actually leading a Weian battle are almost nothing.

I ball my hands in fists and fight the urge to scream. His impatience and his relic lust will result in blood being spilled. I really don’t care about who he slaughters, but I won’t gamble Royo’s life.

My relics start to warm, but I’m not in danger of anything other than losing my temper.

Thinking about the relics gives me an idea, though—a wild one. From when I woke up in the skiff, I could feel the Water Scepter. It has a distinct pull, a hum and vibration all its own. I could also feel the ring, especially once it was in Euyn’s hand. And that means…

“Wait,” I say. “Everyone quiet.”

No one was talking, but everyone stills, staring at me.

I close my eyes, breathe through my mouth, and try to eliminate my senses one by one except for the way I feel etherum.

It’s a call, a draw to magic and god force.

The amulet at my chest and the ring hum on my skin.

The Water Scepter vibrates to my right, an entrancing pull.

I need to ignore it. I step forward on the dock.

One step. Two. Then I cast my senses out into the night.

Where are the other relics of the Dragon Lord? Where is the Immortal Crown? Where is the Flaming Sword?

I hold my breath and put out my hands.

“What is she—” someone whispers. A hush swiftly cuts them off.

Where are the other pieces left behind?

Startled, I open my eyes. There’s the voice again, like someone is speaking inside my mind. I’m hearing things, which isn’t great because I’m weird enough as is. But I close my eyes. Maybe the voice can help.

Where are the relics? Show me where you are.

I call and reach out with my arms as if to embrace them. I’m just hugging air. Nothing. There’s nothing at all. But it was worth a shot.

Suddenly, a pull yanks at my chest like someone has a rope tied to my ribs. I need to go there. Etherum. It calls to me like the cirena wanted Royo.

It’s the relics.

I turn sharply and take a step. Then another. Then arms wrap around me and I can’t walk anymore. But I want to. The crown and the sword are out there, and I need them. I need them like I’ve never needed anything before. My fingers scrape at the air, and I struggle to break free.

“Aeri!” Mikail says.

I blink and shake my head. Mikail holds me firmly, my back against his chest. As I look down at my feet, I realize I’ve stepped halfway off the dock.

I almost drowned myself. Again.

He studies me, and his jaw drops.

“Get her in the boat now,” he says. “She’ll take us to Joon.”

Everyone moves quickly. Royo hops into the rowboat. He extends his arms, and Mikail lowers me to him as the other men jump in. Mikail is last, Water Scepter in hand. He and I move to the front of the rowboat, and Royo joins us.

“All right, Aeri. Show us where to go,” Mikail says.

I sit at the bow as six of the men pick up oars. They’re waiting, Mikail is waiting, but I don’t feel the sword or crown anymore. Whatever connection I had before, the relic lust, has faded. I can’t guide us because I don’t know where we’re going.

I shake my head.

“We have time,” Mikail says. There’s nothing but determination in his eyes.

“You can do it, Aeri.” Royo rests his hand on my knee. The warmth of his palm spreads along my skin. His face is innocent, trusting. He believes in me. But more than that, his life depends on me. All their lives do.

I swallow hard. I have to try again because I’m not going to be able to convince Mikail to abandon this plan.

“She was going west on the dock. Row that way,” Mikail says to the men.

Then he looks at me. “You can do this. You mentioned before that you can feel the scepter, and when my mind is quiet your relics create a buzzing sensation in my head. I feel a pull, but I know it’s not nearly as strong as what you feel.

Quiet your mind, and then you’ll be able to find the crown and sword. ”

With a frustrated huff, I close my eyes. I focus on the relics on my skin, then the pull of the Water Scepter. It’s too strong. This close, it’s all I feel. My fingers curl. I want to rip it out of his hand, no matter the cost. The desire floods through me, and I hold on until it’s a pulsing need.

I lean forward and cast my senses into the shadowed fleet.

Okay, voice in my head, where are these fucking things? Where is the crown of my blood? Where is the Sword of Gaya?

At first, there’s nothing. Just the constant draw of the Water Scepter. I’m about to ask Mikail to move to the back of the boat when a new sensation hits me. My eyes are shut, but the crown feels red and beats like a heart. I reach my arm out.

Come to me.

“Row to exactly where she points,” Mikail says.

Eyes still closed, I pull a throwing knife from my vest.

All right, voice. I’m coming for you.