Rayna’s shoulder burned. She'd bled through the leather Channon had tied around the wound. Her head spun.
But she was better off than Kellan.
Channon all but carried the rail-thin Sylrian down the tight corridor.
Rayna barely had enough strength to keep herself upright and moving. If they came upon any more guards, they'd likely not win the fight.
They reached the door leading to the vestibule, but Channon did not pass through it. He pressed his ear to the door as Kellan slid down the wall beside him, panting.
Rayna knelt by Kellan as Channon took the measure of what they’d be walking into.
“Can you stand?” She wiped blood and sweat from his brow.
Kellan swallowed, wincing. “Maybe, but you two should go on without me. I’ll be useless in a fight.”
“Not a chance,” said Channon. “Not after everything we went through to find you.”
Rayna half-smiled. “We’re all getting out of here together.”
“Well, don’t be so sure.” Channon’s voice had dropped to a whisper. “I scent a ton of Kyreans out there.”
“What about Seperun and the Alvornians?” Rayna joined him by the door, sniffing around the frame.
He shrugged. “Not there yet. I don't think it's quite noon.”
“It must be close. We can’t stay here.”
Channon glanced back at Kellan. “Are you ready?”
Gritting his teeth, Kellan began to stand.
Rayna tried to help him, but he waved her off.
“I’ll either make it or I won’t,” he said. “You’ve done enough.”
Given her own sorry state, she would not have been able to help him much anyway. She nodded, checking her belt for Coer’s knife and readying herself for whatever was waiting for them through the door.
Channon tucked a sweat-soaked strand of hair behind her ear.
For a heartbeat, Rayna wondered if he were about to kiss her as passionately as he had the night before.
Instead, he brought his lips to her cheek, kissing her below her left eye.
This was not the time or place for passion, but his chaste gesture fortified her.
“Are you ready?” he whispered to her.
“As I’ll ever be.” She returned his peck with a quick nuzzle.
Kellan cleared his throat from behind them. He had somehow managed to raise his sword.
With a deep breath, Channon pushed open the door.
They entered what had been the vestibule, finding it debris-strewn and vacant. What was left of the heavy double-doors leading outside blocked them from view.
Channon held up his hand, signaling the others to remain quiet.
Outside, Rayna recognized Terayan's voice. Her heart sank.
“I will give you once chance,” said the Councilor. “Surrender now, and I will allow you to return to your cells. All who fight will die.”
Rayna gulped, inching around the doors’ remains.
The freed Sylrians and Maenorens stood with their backs to the prison.
Daveed and Cassian had shed their helmets. They in front of the prisoners, swords drawn.
Ahead of them, four rows of guards blocked the closed exterior gates.
Terayan stood at the head. Water dripped from his torn and bloodied clothing.
Mina, Roxen, Katrine, Gar, and Pike were nowhere to be found.
There was no sign of any other reinforcements, either.
Daveed and Cassian exchanged a look, perhaps measuring their options.
One of the Sylrians, a woman not much older than Rayna, stepped to the front.
She raised her chin. “We will never be caged again. I am Sylrian. I will die free, rather than live in chains.”
“Very well,” said Terayan.
Rayna knew what would happen next. She'd seen the same horrors aboard the Seadog months before, when the sailors had refused to aid Terayan.
Those men had died while she did nothing.
She would not repeat that mistake.
Before Channon could stop her, Rayna leaped from the rubble. She purposefully made noise to distract Terayan from his murderous intentions.
She landed amongst the Sylrians, but her height and hair helped her stand out as she pushed her way in front of Daveed and Cassian. It did not surprise her when Channon forced his way to her side.
“Terayan!” She shouted his name, forcing confidence and strength she did not have into the sound.
“Rayna Myana.” The slow way he said her name, tasting each syllable, made her skin crawl. “How good of you to join us.”
The last time they'd met, Terayan had not wasted any time before attempting to kill her with a gruesome spell. But there was something different in the way he looked at her now. Some new spark burned in his eyes, almost like curiosity.
Did he want something else from her besides her death? If so, perhaps she could use that against him.
“Councilor.” She slowed her speech, buying time for the allies she was not sure would come. “You’ve wanted me dead for a long time. You know better than most how hard I am to kill. Let these people go, and you can have me.”
Channon stiffened at her side, but said nothing.
Terayan grinned. “Why would I bargain for that which I already possess?”
She swallowed. “You don’t have me yet.”
Terayan quirked his head to the side. “Don’t I?” As if to illustrate his point, he waved his hand.
The Sylrian woman Rayna had hoped to save fell dead, her neck snapped.
Before Rayna could react, Channon snarled as his arms were forced behind his back by Terayan's magic.
“My usual strategies don’t work on you, it’s true. But you’ve shown your hand from your first words. If all you care about is the rabble surrounding you, then I have all the power, Rayna. Dear me, you aren’t the most politically minded one are you?”
Helmet-warped laughter echoed his words as the soldiers mocked her.
“Enough of these games,” Terayan said with sudden sharpness. “Rayna is mine, but kill the rest.” He punctuated his words with another spell—this time targeting Daveed.
Rayna jumped in front of the Maenoren, the demonic magic-fueled curse dying with a whisper of wind when it touched her skin.
The Kyreans converged on the mostly unarmed escapees.
As Rayna and Daveed came to their feet, the first wave of attackers arrived.
She shifted, tearing into every piece of exposed skin she could find. It felt vaguely dishonorable—attacking those who were ordered not to hurt her—but they would hurt her friends.
Even with her advantage, the numbers were too many.
She and Channon attacked as a pair, protecting the Sylrians and Maenorens, but it was no use.
They were overwhelmed.
“Halt!” Terayan’s sudden shout reverberated around the courtyard, a note of panic in his tone.
Rayna’s opponent froze.
She and Channon did as well, following Terayan’s gaze over their shoulders.
Katrine limped from the destroyed door. Her arm slung around a boy Rayna did not know.
There was something familiar in his broad, tan features and shaggy black hair. In her blood and adrenaline-soaked state, Rayna could not place it, but she felt as if she might have seen him before.
Katrine and the boy glanced around, the only moving figures.
“What is going on?” the boy asked. His accent wasn’t Peninsular, but still Rayna felt a twinge of familiarity.
“Aronak.” Terayan pointed back toward the prison. “Return to your cell now, or I swear you will regret it.”
The boy—Aronak—looked from Katrine to Terayan. “I will not.”
With that, the battle erupted once again.
Rayna and Channon tried to fight their way to Katrine.
Kellan must have joined the battle, energized by the presence of his people. He came to their side.
“Violette is with your friend,
” Kellan shouted. “They’re safest back there, out of the way.”
“What do we do?” Channon pulled his extended claws from an enemy’s jugular. “We can’t fight our way out of this one.”
As he spoke, a dull roar Rayna had attributed to the battle rose in volume. The smell of seawater flooded her senses. A monstrous, white-capped wave rolled over Krymammer’s exterior wall.
“Brace yourselves!” Rayna called as the sea overtook the courtyard.
Kado held his breath as the water rolled over him. He did not understand what was happening. He spun in circles, amid swirling seawater and mud.
He forced his eyes open, searching for the light that signaled the surface. He saw nothing. His lungs fought for air. He swam in a direction he hoped was upward. Suddenly, his head broke through the surface.
Krymammer’s courtyard had become a raging lagoon. A few other heads popped up—including the redhead who had stood up to Terayan, but a majority were still beneath the waves. Those in armor had little chance at all.
Kado glanced around, treading water. He did not see Terayan. Kado blinked away the salt and grit, searching for any sign of Katrine. He remembered her broken arm and bleeding back. He'd barely managed to break the surface, and he was uninjured. How was she supposed to survive this insanity?
Why do you care? A voice whispered in Kado's mind. This was his chance to escape. Why should he waste it trying to save a girl he did not know?
Because she helped me, he told himself. But truthfully, Kado recognized a more selfish reason to find her.
When she'd appeared in his cell block, he'd helped her by instinct—they clearly shared the same enemies. When she threw him the keys, he saw his freedom. But they'd landed where he could not reach them.
What had happened next, Kado still did not understand.
Kado forced his exhausted body into an expert breast stroke toward the mostly submerged prison entrance. The water was thick with sand and dirt—he'd never find her in the murk. But he had to try.
Something about this girl, about their common fight, had sparked an instinctual power in Kado. When he'd reached for the keys and found he could not grasp them, he'd slammed against the cell door anyway. As he did, an image appeared in his mind—a rune like those from the book.
But this one had read unlock.
The door had obeyed.
Kado swam to the prison entrance.
A figure appeared from the depths. She gulped down air, sputtering. It was not Katrine, but a much older woman, with the tattoos of a Sylrian savage.
“You made it,” he calmed her. “Tell me, where’s Katrine? The girl I was with? Did you see her down there?”
The old woman shook her sodden head. “I couldn’t see anything.” She coughed. “But she was with me before—”
Kado had wasted enough time. He took several quick breaths, and dove.
He forced his eyes wide. The water had settled somewhat. The sediment was less blinding. But still, he could not see his fingers when he extended his arms. He groped the darkness, desperate. A shard of wood cut his hand. The salty water burned. Blood spiraled into the gloom. Still, he searched.
A flailing shape rose from the darkness. The stranger had long hair that caught Kado’s out-stretched fingers. He could not be sure it was Katrine, but whoever it was, they needed help.
Kado pulled on their shoulders, eliciting a scream of bubbles. He remembered Katrine’s broken arm. It was her.
He dove until he touched the bottom, where a beam had fallen across Katrine’s legs.
He yanked on the beam pinning her. Even beneath the water it was heavy. His lungs begged for air. He pulled again, using all his strength. It moved, but not enough.
Katrine’s flailing ceased. Her shadowy form drifted. She'd fallen unconscious.
Kado pushed with all his might. He thought of Isaac, Lonian, and his mother—all those he had failed to save. Still the beam did not move.
Lift! he screamed in his mind. Lines and shapes swirled through his brain, but did not piece together into a rune. He did not yet know how to control this strange ability.
With a guttural roar that took the last of his air, Kado freed Katrine through his own might. He lifted her upward. He kicked with all his strength, trying to speed her ascent.
But his lungs spasmed. His body rebelled against his mind, gulping water. He choked and coughed. More water streamed in his nostrils. Pain wracked his chest. Panic overtook his higher thoughts. The water leeched all remaining energy from his limbs.
In his confusion, he and Katrine seemed to fly upward.
Suddenly, illusion became reality. They breached the surface.
His lungs sucked air. In the liminal space between sleeping and waking, Kado felt his senses reignite. His arms had wrapped around Katrine, keeping her lolling head above the water. He was sure he'd lost control of his body, so how had they made it? Had he found the right rune after all?
“There!” A female voice shouted. “That prisoner has her.”
The waters tensed around Kado and Katrine, dragging them as if animated by a sudden, unstoppable current.
He gasped, holding onto Katrine with all his might. The water rose and they rose with it, splashing onto a lifeboat.
He fell onto his hands and knees.
Katrine rolled onto the boat's floor.
Kado leaned over her, prepared to begin the lifesaving resuscitation he’d been taught at sea.
Instead, a young woman pushed him aside.
“Let me.” The black-haired girl wove her delicate fingers in rapid movements.
Water gushed from Katrine’s mouth. Within moments, she coughed and sputtered—alive.
Kado and the Alvornian—there was no other explanation for her abilities—turned Katrine to her side.
Kado patted her back gently, watching to make sure no one disturbed Katrine’s broken arm.
“She’s badly hurt, Rayna.” The Alvornian addressed someone standing over Kado’s shoulder.
The redhead stood behind him.
A blond man knelt beside her, tying a strip of his shredded shirt to a Sylrian man’s wounded arm.
“We’ll stabilize them when we’re aboard the ship.” A tall Alvornian man with striking violet eyes appeared at the head of another lifeboat. “All the Fenearens, Sylrians, and Maenorens are accounted for. The flood waters cannot hold Terayan forever. We need to go, now.”
The boat sped forward as the Alvornian girl took the stern position.
A water column rose, carrying them over the courtyard's wall.
They careened over the cliff. The fall's force kept Kado pinned to the boat’s floorboards. The boat slid onto the ocean in front of a clipper ship.
The Alvornian released the magic when they reached the ship’s port side.
Two other lifeboats, each loaded with Peninsulars, coasted beside them.
“Are you ready up there?” The violet-eyed man shouted.
“Aye, General Pheros!” A voice answered.
The general gestured to the other Alvornians—the girl piloting Kado’s boat and a young man steering the third.
The lifeboats rose on a gentle swell. All three boats landed on the ship’s deck. Crewmen swarmed them.
Kado's heartbeat hastened. Panic ruled his mind at the sight of so many unfamiliar people.
What had he done?
Rayna stumbled off the lifeboat.
Channon and Kellan followed, giving Lurenia space to help Katrine.
Rayna checked the huddled mass of drenched people to make sure everyone was there.
Marielana arrived on the swell of a wave. She fell to her knees on the ship's deck, panting.
Pheros whisked the Priestess below-deck as the ship lurched to speed.
Cassian and Daveed had removed most of their stolen armor. They comforted the rescued Maenoren sailors.
Gar and Pike padded over to Rayna as she continued her head-count.
Gar nuzzled her knee. Will Katrine be all righ
t?
Lurenia leaned over Katrine in the lifeboat. Already the Alvornian had stopped the bleeding in Katrine’s back. Lurenia wove seawater around Katrine’s broken arm.
I think so. Lurenia can set the bone and speed the healing, Rayna explained.
“Rayna!” Channon’s urgent voice called her attention.
Kellan had slumped in Channon’s arms, unconscious.
Rayna helped Channon ease Kellan onto the deck. As Rayna was about to call for help, Mina appeared from the crowd.
“Wolfie!” Mina embraced her. “Thank the gods you made it. Come on, let's take Kellan below-deck. You all need to see the healers. Roxen was hurt,” she swallowed, “but he's resting now.”
Channon picked up Kellan’s limp form and took him toward the ship’s center.
“Wait.” Rayna suddenly remembered their boat’s other occupant—the young prisoner who had helped Katrine. She looked around for him, finding him crouched by the lifeboat.
Rayna approached him. “I saw what you did.”
The boy did not turn around, but his muscles tensed.
“I mean,” Rayna continued, “thank you for helping Katrine. You should come see the healers with us.”
He shook his head. “I’d rather stay here.”
Rayna touched his shoulder. “She’ll be all right.”
He recoiled from her touch.
Again, the familiarity of his features—shaggy black hair, thin lips, broad cheeks—struck her. Had she seen him before? In dreams, perhaps?
“Rayna!” Channon shouted. “Look at his neck.”
A black metallic band rested below the prisoner's jugular. “Is that—you wear a Monil?”
The boy touched the device. “Aye.”
“Who are you?” In Rayna’s peripheral vision, Katrine sat up, but relief would have to wait. “Why were you in prison?”
The prisoner gulped, but seeing Katrine’s curious, exhausted face seemed to fortify him. “My name,” he said more to Katrine than Rayna, “is Kado Aronak. I am Fenearen, like you.”
“You were a slave? Captured?” Rayna prompted. Hadn't Kellan said something about a Fenearen in Krymammer?
“A slave, but I was born in the Republic. My mother was captured when she was pregnant with me.”
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