Page 69

SORA

THE EAST SEA

T he Qali Palace guards wrap a rope around the central mast of the fleet ship and then tie me and Tiyung to it, giving us a few feet of length to move around. Really, it’s just enough to sit down. It’s better than the dark, covered wagon they threw us into in Jeul, but not by much.

I count the guards as we set sail into the East Sea. The guard who Tiyung struck down in the tower died, but there are nineteen more king’s guard and ten armored palace guards aboard this ship. We never stood a chance. Not without Mikail and Aeri.

The timing couldn’t have been a coincidence, but how did they know we’d be alone?

I glance over at Tiyung. Were palace spies following him?

I have to assume they were. So the question becomes: Did he know?

Was he in on this plan? I wouldn’t think so, but he was supposed to kill me on our first trip together, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that everyone is capable of deceit and betrayal. Even the ones you trust the most.

“Did you do this?” I ask.

Tiyung’s brow furrows, and then he points to his nose. “No.”

“How did they know we’d be alone?”

“Either Fallador or someone else betrayed us, or my father had spies watching me. But if I was being followed, I had no idea. I’m sorry, Sora. I swear I’ll find a way out of this for you.”

A chill settles over me, and it’s not the late-night air or the sea spray. It’s that I don’t believe there will be a way out. Not this time.

My knees buckle, and I drop until I’m sitting on the deck.

No matter who betrayed us, this is my fault—all of it.

I had the chance to kill Seok in the armory in Khitan.

He held me as we danced, and I had poison on my lips.

I could’ve leaned forward and kissed him.

But I didn’t do it, and people like me don’t get multiple chances to slay a monster.

“Sora?” Tiyung leans to the side as he looks at me.

“I’m sure you’ll try.”

My voice sounds exhausted because I am. I’m tired of running, of never being safe, of losing everyone I love.

I’m tired of life. I’m not the girl who dreamed of living at the country villa with Daysum.

I no longer have a sister, and I’m tired of shattered dreams. I know Tiyung will try to stand up to his father, but in the end, I don’t really care.

For twenty-one years, I’ve battled, and I have nothing to show for it.

More than that, I have nothing left to fight for.

There’s only so much that can be stripped away before there’s nothing left of you worth keeping. Even the strongest blades can break.

“Don’t give up,” he says.

“Why not?”

He exhales, and then he sits near me. The sea spray drips down his broken nose. Or it’s the rain that started as we sailed closer to Yusan.

“I suppose I can’t give you a real reason,” he says.

“I need you, but that’s my reason, not yours.

Daysum would want you to go on, but you can’t live for losses.

” He pauses, his eyes looking up at the moon.

“I guess because, in the end, you deserve more. You deserve ten times as many years of happiness as you have spent suffering.”

Mikail also wanted me to have a long life, but for what?

Life is filled with pain and heartache. And what happened to him tonight?

What about Aeri and Royo? Are they all dead or captured, too?

Probably. We’re trying to fight the world.

With so many odds stacked against us, I’m not sure how we ever thought we’d win.

I stare at the back of the ship, looking toward Tamneki Harbor, where the friends who became my family are all probably dead. Then suddenly, there’s a fire on the water—a blaze as large as it was instant. I blink the rain out of my eyes.

Just as I reopen them, another huge fire lights—this one on the Gayan coast. It’s tall as the Oosant warehouse blaze. Maybe larger.

The soldiers on this ship run around as the lookout calls overhead. Because of the fires, the Weian warships are now visible. Boots thud on the deck, and the men take up oars down below so we can move away from the fleet faster.

Those unnatural fires can only mean one thing: Mikail got the Flaming Sword.

I stare at Tiyung, and his eyes move side to side, alternating between the two flames. Then a smile spreads over his face.

“They did it,” he whispers.

I think they did.

They’re still alive. Maybe all of them. And King Joon is almost certainly dead.

I stare at the flames in the night, and hope flutters through my chest. Just a little thing, delicate as glass wings, but it uplifts me. We already took the relics and killed two god kings. Maybe, just maybe, we can win.

Tiyung reaches his fingers out on the deck. He holds his palm open, waiting for me. I give him my hand.

I just have to hold on.