25

Gretel led Fritz and me back into the ballroom, nodding at the fürst. “Three minutes. Get your sisters out of here.”

As Fritz hurried after Margarethe, Lang raced to my side. “Where have you been?”

I tipped my chin toward Gretel. “I found them.”

Lang stared at us, dumbstruck. “You found—”

“No time to waste,” Gretel cut him off. She slipped away, too, weaving through the crowd of dancers and tapping people on the shoulder. One by one, they slid away from the revel and out Burg Rheinfels’s door. Fritz and the freinnen followed.

Lang pushed through the crowd again, asserting himself at Gretel’s side. “If you’re who I think you are, I need to speak with you,” he tried again. “I’m prepared to make a deal, on behalf of—”

“The deal has been negotiated,” Gretel said shortly. “Your princess handled herself well.”

Lang’s gaze snapped to me. I didn’t acknowledge the betrayal in his eyes.

I told myself there was no time. Perhaps I was just a coward.

“Come on,” I said, my throat tightening. “We need to get to the ship.”

Lang didn’t speak, but his eyes darted to me again and again as we threaded the mile and a half through the woods to the Beholder. Trained as my ears were on the crunch of grass and leaves beneath my shoes and Leirauh’s quiet talk with Gretel, I couldn’t miss the tension radiating through his body.

Part of me wanted to crow over him. See? I’m not a child.

Part of me wanted to beg his forgiveness.

But I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t be petty, and I wouldn’t ask him not to be angry for what I’d done. I had more to worry about. I would accept the consequences of my choice.

I forgot about it all when the prow of my ship emerged from the mist.

The Beholder’s figurehead still stood at its fore, arms as open as ever, eyes still wide with wonder despite all she had seen. Though her fine polish had faded from salt water and miles at sea, she was still beautiful. The stuff she was made of, it seemed, was stronger than the stuff she’d been gilded with.

I wanted to cry with relief. I wanted to fling myself on her mercy and beg her to carry me home.

Almost. Almost. Just a bit longer.

Jeanne and J. J. and Andersen and Homer raced to the deck rail as we approached, and I raised a hand in greeting. Homer smiled when he recognized me. For the first time since we’d left Norge, I let myself bask in his pride.

“Here we are,” I said to our navigator. Lang stood beside me, not speaking. Andersen and Yu came to join us.

Homer put a hand to my epauletted shoulder, bracing warmth in his fingers and in his gray eyes. “Here you are,” he agreed.

I nodded at Gretel and her people, looking like ghosts in their finery in the early-morning dark. “And here they are.”

“You did it,” Andersen said, relieved, to Lang.

“No.” Lang jerked his chin at me. “She did it.” A beat of silence reverberated between us.

Yu went very still. “What did you do?”

Vishnu and Basile and the rest had helped the Waldleute into the hold below. They began now to emerge with barrels and crates in their arms, carrying them down to the bank where Leirauh waited. Her blue eyes watched the woods, black gown standing out beneath the lightening sky.

Guilt and victory warred in my stomach. Finally, I met Yu’s gaze and forced myself not to flinch. “I made a deal. The safe passage of one of the hertsoh’s daughters for the arms.” I set my jaw. “Her circumstances were dire, the weapons went where they were intended to go, and I’m not sorry for what I did.”

One by one, the Waldleute continued out the stern door with crates of arms, with barrels of gunpowder, their Zhōngwén labels bobbing along above the deck to remind me of what I’d done and whom I’d betrayed.

Something like shame washed over me. But I wanted to shout at all of them—Andersen and Homer and Lang and Yu. Do you still think I’m a child? Would you trust me with your confidences now, if you had to do it over again?

A shoulder bumped against mine, and I started. “Well, look who’s looking pleased with herself,” Skop crowed.

I gave an uncomfortable laugh. But when I met Skop’s eyes, they were as uncertain as I felt. He opened his arms, as if asking permission. Asking if we were all right.

I was pleased. And better still, I was home. I walked into Skop’s arms and wrapped him in the tightest hug I could manage.

Over his shoulder, I saw Anya approaching. My heart rose at the sight of her.

“Does this mean you’re finished?” She gave a tentative smile.

“Yes.” I took her hand, hoping she’d read how much I missed her in my squeeze of her fingers. How much I was ready to fix things between us and rejoice in all that had gone right for her. “Yes. We can go home now.”

But I spoke too soon.

I took my last happy breath as I glanced out over the bank and saw a soldier clap his hand over Leirauh’s mouth.