The harbor of Armonía isn’t like the brief glimpses I’ve had of the boat docks in Vasiliádes. There aren’t any patrol guards, nor are there army boats and soldiers with swords as big as horses.
The piers stretch out like the rays of the sun, scattering from the semicircle of sand in wooden beams of bright yellow. The boats tied to them are an array of colors, with names inked in cursive. Some are as big as houses, others no larger than I am, with oars hooked over their sides.
“This is going to be a breeze compared to Vasiliádes,” Nox says smugly. “Not a Last Army ship in sight. It’s just leisure boats and pirates.”
“Are you forgetting that I saw you die on a pirate ship?” I ask.
“I guess I’m an optimist,” he says. “Besides, we need that balloon to get off this island and if it’s on one of these boats, we don’t have a choice.”
I sigh, frustrated at his flippancy.
I know we have to do this, but he could at least pretend to be worried. Nox doesn’t fear death as much as he should. I’ve told him it’s coming and how and that only makes him more confident that he can defeat it.
The only thing he seems to be wary of is the unknown, and without that he flourishes.
“Is it that one?”
He points to a boat.
No, not a boat, or even a ship. It’s a creature of the sea, exactly like the one I saw in my vision.
A great beast with sails like wings that are a translucent green curving upward to the sky in a flurry. The wood and rope holding them together are like bones and veins. Its wide, curved body is a deep jade and sharply forked like a hissing tongue down the center.
“That’s it,” I confirm.
“I knew it,” Nox says. He smiles like it only makes things more interesting. “If anyone in Armonía was to scavenge something useless to them, merely because it’s of value to someone else, then it’s the owner of that ship.”
“Who is it?” I ask.
“An old friend.” Nox’s brown eyes glisten with mischief, reflecting the waters of the crystal harbor beyond.
Micah snorts a laugh. “He’s going to be pleased to see you.”
“I bet,” Nox says, drawing his sword. “And that’ll make it even more fun when we steal the basket back.”
My jaw nearly drops at that. “Steal?”
Nox turns to me. “Would you prefer commandeer?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Can’t we just ask for it back?”
“Did you forget he was a pirate?”
“Did you forget that you just said he was an old friend?”
“Oh.” Nox nods, as though he’s only just realizing the lie. Then he shrugs. “He’s more of an enemy actually.”
“Is there anyone on the Six Isles who actually likes you?” I ask, because I’m not sure how it’s possible.
Nox nods over to Micah. “He likes me.”
“Anyone who isn’t an idiot?”
“Hey!” Micah says, at the same time that Irenya cackles a laugh.
“Look,” Nox says, holding his sword up to the light. He studies it for a brief moment—checking for blemishes—and then when he’s satisfied at its perfection, he continues. “If we want to survive, we need to get our transport back. I didn’t come this far to lose it all to a pirate.”
I’m all but jogging to keep step with him as he walks toward the ship.
“So we’re just going to steal this thing while nobody’s watching?”
“Don’t be silly,” Nox says. He looks at me with a roguish smile. “There will be plenty of people watching.”
I swallow and for some reason my mind draws back to the moment in the Grand Hall, when we first met. When I cut a piece of Nox’s hair—a piece of his soul—and a shock pierced through me.
Something like that courses through me now as he smiles.
Not a jolt, but a buzzing. A murmur deep inside, as the wind breezes ripples into the harbor.
A rogue sense of excitement, mixed with my fear.
Adventure.
I can’t believe I’m even considering it, but I think of the painting I drew when I was a child, of the girl locked in her tower with hair stretching out the window and toward the ground she never got to walk on.
The picture my mother burned, searing the king’s hold on me.
But she can’t burn this.
She can set a painting alight, but not a moment. Not an idea.
“How do we steal it?” I ask.
“Easily,” Nox says.
We come to a stop by the foot of a long plank that leads up to the boat.
“You and Irenya make sure the harbor guards at the patrol station are taken care of,” Nox tells Micah. “We can’t risk them getting help from the town guards if they notice what we’re doing. There should only be two or three and they’re almost always asleep at this time in the afternoon.”
Micah hesitates. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“I’m not alone, I have a witch,” Nox reminds him. “And in Selestra’s vision, it wasn’t a pirate who killed me. It was her mother. Look around, do you see the Somniatis witch anywhere?”
“Fine,” Micah relents. “But if you die, I’m going to be pissed.”
“I appreciate that,” Nox says.
“Will you be okay without me?” Irenya asks.
“Of course,” I assure her.
It’s sweet that she’s concerned for me, but I’m the one who should be worrying after her. I’ve put her in so much danger already.
I couldn’t imagine losing her like I lost Asden.
“Be careful,” I say. “And if anything happens, don’t be afraid to sacrifice Micah’s life to save your own.”
“Oh, I will use him as a human shield in a heartbeat,” she says earnestly.
“You guys are so sweet,” Micah says. “I’m glad we’ve become such good friends.”
Irenya only laughs and nudges him in the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s leave the heroes to their quest.”
“No dying,” Micah warns again, pointing to Nox. “I’m serious.”
Irenya rolls her eyes and pulls the reluctant Micah away.
He sighs and lets her lead him toward the harbor guard.
“Here,” Nox says.
He hands me a dagger.
I recognize it as the one he brought to my room when he asked for a second vision. The blade is as black as the Endless Sea, the handle bright enough to be carved from the Red Moon itself. A single thread of gold weaves delicately across its body.
It’s beautiful.
And it easily replaces the ear dagger I’d stolen before, which I’d been forced to return before anyone noticed.
“Risky business giving me this,” I tell Nox, holding back a smile. “I could use it to stab you in the back and take Leo’s butterfly for myself.”
Nox blinks. “Are you flirting with me?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m threatening to kill you.”
A lazy smile spreads across his lips. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference with you.”
I shake my head and twist the knife in my hand, unable to help but be dazzled at the sight of it.
A true fighter’s blade.
“Come on, princess,” Nox says. “Let’s go steal ourselves a butterfly.”
The ship looks even more like a dragon once we’re aboard. The floors of its forked body are awash with green, the same color of its winged sails, and ripple with blues and pinks, so each mark of the wood looks like scales.
The wheel deck sits elevated to the rear, and I spy Leo’s butterfly in its center, like a prize on display.
Beside it, a man sits with a lit cigar.
“Nox Laederic,” he says.
He spits the cigar into the water and slides down a long pole, bringing him to the main deck.
“What in the name of souls are you doing on my boat?”
He’s a good few years older than us, with black hair streaked silver and a beard that pulls across his throat. A scar slashes down his right eye and curves around his cheek, leaving his eye stained bloody.
“Meet Dray Garrick,” Nox says to me, sweeping an arm out to the man by way of introduction. “One of the richest thieves in Armonía. He makes his Chrim stealing jewels from the crumbled towers of the old royal families. And murdering anyone who gets in his way, of course.”
“That’s quite the introduction,” I say.
“He’s quite the criminal,” Nox admits. “Too greedy for a real crew.”
Garrick narrows his one good eye. “I asked what you were doing on my boat.”
“I considered bargaining with you, but I’m all out of gold and we’ve already resorted to selling our jewelry,” Nox says.
He nods up to the balloon basket.
“You have something of mine and I’d like it back. I’m assuming I’ll have to use force, but let me know if you’re feeling charitable.”
Garrick is too incredulous to laugh fully, and so what comes out of his mouth is a large breathy sound that flares his nostrils.
“And who’s this?” he asks, looking at me. His stare lingers. “Your partner in chaos?”
Despite my eyes, surely he can’t suspect that I’m a witch. Not with so many women in Armonía sharing the color of my hair. Perhaps they even mimic the glow of my eyes too. With my hair cut to no longer resemble my mother or our ancestors, Garrick must think I’m one of them.
It’s freeing to have someone look straight at me and have no expectations or preconceptions.
He doesn’t know who I am and so I can be whoever I want for once.
“A partner in chaos,” Nox muses. “That’s fairly accurate, don’t you agree?”
I nod as casually as I can muster. “I like the sound of it.”
Garrick sneers. “Whatever you two are up to, do it somewhere else. I don’t want to have to hurt you, Regiment Leader.”
He practically spits those last two words, mocking Nox’s position in the Last Army and, it seems, his apparent allegiance to the king. Nox doesn’t look the slightest bit ruffled.
“You and your three deckhands are going to take us on?” Nox asks, looking around at the men dotted sparsely across the ship. “I’m insulted.”
A smile cracks across Garrick’s face, like a splinter. “You’re just like your father,” he says. “He was an arrogant git too.”
As quickly as the smile appeared on Garrick’s face, it disappears from Nox’s. I see the flicker in his eyes and the way his hands clench quickly at his sides, as if on reflex.
Not bracing himself for an attack, but absorbing one.
The mention of Asden clearly sends him reeling, as it does me.
Who is this man to dare to speak of him that way?
“How do you two know each other?” I ask, breaking the silence and with it the fragile look in Nox’s eyes.
“I told you,” Nox says. “We’re enemies.”
“The Last Army is enemies to everyone,” Garrick says. “Especially Nox and his little Thánatos Regiment.”
“You’re not still angry we confiscated those jewels, are you?” Nox asks, recovering quickly. “You couldn’t really think you’d get away with pilfering from the old Thavma royal family. You know the king likes to keep all the islands’ riches for himself.”
“Finders keepers,” Garrick says.
“Well, in that case.”
Nox holds out his sword, pointing it directly at Garrick’s throat.
“We found your ship, so I guess that means we get to keep that and everything on it. Including what we came for.”
The deckhands stand up.
Nox’s eyes move to them. “Careful,” he says. He gestures quickly to me. “She’s just as deadly as I am.”
I feel that thrum in my heart again with his words.
That buzzing of adventure.
“Over my dead body is this happening,” Garrick spits. He draws his own sword. “You’re a fool, Nox. That cargo belongs to the king,” he says. “He’s set a bounty on such transport. More than you could ever imagine. Apparently it was used to kidnap his heir. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
His eyes twist over to mine and my heartbeat thumps.
He can’t know. He couldn’t possibly.
“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about,” Nox says.
And then his sword clashes against Garrick’s.
“Fetch the harbor guards!” Garrick yells, just as Nox pushes him into the side of the boat. “Tell them I’ve found the heir!”
One of the deckhands makes for Nox, who swivels out of the way and slashes his blade across their arm.
“Selestra, don’t let anyone get by!” he yells.
I widen my eyes as one of the deckhands charges toward me.
He’s large, at least a foot taller than me and a great deal wider too. But I remember Asden’s training and I know that power is no match for speed.
I won’t let him reveal our location to the guards and to the king.
I crouch low and sweep my leg out, tripping the man to the floor. His head hits the deck just as the third deckhand grabs me from behind.
His arms crush around my waist.
I don’t try to pry them off.
I know I’m not strong enough.
But strength is no match for quick thinking, I tell myself.
I fling my head back, cracking it into the man’s nose. His hold loosens and I turn, kicking him square in the stomach.
He falls to his knees, bleeding on the deck with a groan.
“Thanks for the practice,” I say, bringing my arm into the air. “I’ve been worried I’d get rusty.”
I punch him, hard enough that I hear a loud crack before he falls to the floor.
Asden would be proud.
I turn to check on Nox, just as he slams the butt of his sword into Garrick’s mouth, knocking one of his teeth clean out.
Garrick stumbles, back pressed against the edge of the ship.
“You won’t get away with this!” he yells as Nox approaches. “The king will kill you and your entire family!”
He raises his sword to slice across Nox’s chest, but Nox blocks it easily. Effortlessly. He knocks the sword from Garrick’s hands and grabs ahold of his collar.
“The king already did that,” Nox says darkly.
My breath catches.
Then he pushes Garrick from the ship and into the harbor waters below.
“What did you just do?” I ask, shocked.
“Relax,” Nox says. “He can swim.”
I look around the ship. “Where’s the third deckhand?”
“Down there too somewhere.”
Nox gestures to where Garrick curses below.
I don’t feel any sympathy for him or his men: Murderer, Nox had called him. And pilferer of dead kings and queens, including those of the witches my family descended from.
Better he be thrown overboard than us.
I laugh in relief before I can help myself and Nox looks just as surprised as I am. It’s the laugh of a girl, not caged by a centuries-old blood oath, or trapped by a king of souls.
And Nox is the reason for it.
This soldier, who took me from the castle, saving me from my own mother. He flew me to a land where I don’t have to hide.
The ship sways against the harbor waters.
I take in a breath.
He’s dangerous, I remind myself. He’s marked by death.
The king’s crest burns against my hand, reminding me of what could happen if I let my guard down for even a moment. It’s because of Nox and that odd curse of fate tangled between us that I’ve nearly died so many times.
So why is it that I feel safest when I’m with him?
“Nox!”
I whirl to see Micah and Irenya running breathlessly onto the boat.
“Let’s go!” Micah says hurriedly.
He notices the two deckhands unconscious on the floor and begins dragging them from the boat.
“They’re coming for us,” Irenya says, running to my side.
In the distance a flurry of guards run toward Garrick’s ship, their pounding boots like thunder.
“I told you to take care of them,” Nox says. He climbs the rickety ladder up to another deck, which houses the ship’s wheel.
“You told me to take care of two sleeping guards,” Micah argues, dragging the last deckhand away. “Not the Last Army!”
“The king knows we’re here,” I say in a gasp.
Which means my mother is here.
Above, thunder rumbles behind the clouds as the sun finally finishes setting. I watch in horror as the sky turns black.
“Damn,” Nox curses, as realization sets in.
My eyes widen and I turn back to look at the guards again.
They’re not guards at all. They’re soldiers.
The uniform coats their broad shoulders, the king’s insignia clear on their chests as they approach, swords drawn, screaming at us to stop right there.
“We don’t have time to inflate the balloon before they get to us!” Nox yells. “We’ll have to take the ship and launch it later once we’re clear from attack.”
“Irenya, untie the docking line!” he commands. “Micah, lift the anchor! Selestra, take the wheel so I can ready the sails!”
I don’t hesitate to run toward the ladder and climb up to the wheel, readying the boat just as we begin to drift away from the harbor.
I keep the ship steady and straight as I can, while Nox yells orders and Micah and Irenya run from one end of the ship to another.
I’m shocked that Irenya doesn’t question it, or stop to ask Nox what he means when he talks about mainsails and port side. Then I remember that she grew up right by the docks of Vasiliádes. Her father was a sailor before he met her mother, and he must have taught her a thing or two.
But before we’re a safe enough distance away from the harbor, two Last Army soldiers manage to jump onto the ship.
“Get the heir!” one yells.
“Don’t let them take her!”
They claw their way up onto the deck, and both Nox and Micah grab their swords to fight them off.
Then I see a third. A fourth. Then two more.
As we sail away from Armonía, we take half a dozen of the Last Army with us. The clang of their swords rattles the ship.
“We’re outnumbered!” Micah yells.
“Thanks for the update,” Nox says, driving his sword through one soldier’s stomach.
The blood splatters onto the dragon-scale deck.
“The king will kill you for stealing his witch!” one of the soldiers sneers. “Your father would be disgraced by this.”
“Actually, I think he’d be proud,” Nox says, not realizing just how true that is.
He cuts the man down in a heartbeat.
He turns to take on another, but he and Micah are still outnumbered and the Last Army are just as brutal.
A sudden gloom settles over me and I’m drawn to look back toward the dock.
To my horror, I see my mother standing, staring back at me.
Her green hair sways in the breeze and her wild eyes lock onto mine in a promise of death.
I see her lips move and I hear the call of my name on the wind.
Selestra.
I gasp and Nox must hear it because he turns from battle to look up at me.
“I won’t let them take you!” he calls to me in a promise.
My eyes meet his and that relief—that feeling of safety—returns in an instant.
I watch him fight off the soldiers, acting as a barrier between them and the ladder that leads to me. I realize then that he’s not just fighting for his life, but for mine too.
He’s protecting me.
“What should we do?” Irenya asks, climbing up the ladder and to my side.
“Take the wheel,” I tell her.
Too many people have died while I just stood there and watched.
If Nox is going to try to save me, the least I can do is save him right back.
Without thinking, I slide down the pole, racing into the fight.
I might not be Last Army, but Asden taught me enough fencing to hold my own.
I grab Garrick’s sword from where Nox had knocked it to the floor and slash it across the air, meeting the blade of a soldier. Then I twist and elbow him straight in the cheek. Before he has time to recover, I slam my foot into his knee and bring my blade across his back.
It’s not a mortal wound, but it’s enough to stop him from getting back up for a while.
I turn to see Micah just about to kill another of our attackers, but my eyes search the ship for Nox, who has disappeared from beside the ladder.
I spot him quickly by the ship’s edge, nearly hidden behind a wing of sails. He struggles as one of the soldiers pins him to the side of the ship.
Nox’s blade is the only thing between the sword of the Last Army and his throat.
He heaves the soldier off just in time and slashes his sword across his neck. Then Nox collapses to the floor, a little breathless.
Another soldier comes from behind, but I know Nox doesn’t see him.
This is the moment I foresaw.
He’s about to be thrown overboard, and if I run to him, I’ll follow.
Once we’re in those waters, my mother will seize the opportunity to drown us both. She’ll siphon all the power she has into keeping us under, so the king can be satisfied that his immortality will never be challenged.
I only have moments, seconds, to do something.
I feel the wind on my cheeks and the breeze brushing my hair from my face as I reach inside myself, looking for the power I’ve always pushed down out of fear it might turn me into my mother.
I call for it to come to the surface and feel the spark of it abiding.
Just small, just for a moment. But it’s enough.
I thrust my arm out and the magic breaks into the world.
It’s as though a gasp of wind bursts from my heart and rams into the soldier who’s about to attack Nox.
It hits him with enough force to knock him clear over the edge of the ship and into the crystal waters below.
Then it dissipates.
There and gone in an instant.
My heart pounds ferociously.
I channeled the wind, just like my mother. I siphoned power from it.
I bring a hand quickly to my nose, but just like in the tavern, there’s no blood. No pain.
The king always said I wouldn’t come into my true powers until my mother died. That they weren’t mine to have.
You’re just an heir, Selestra, he always told me. You have no real power yet.
But I felt it. I still do.
I run to Nox’s side.
He looks up at me. “I thought I told you to steer,” he says, panting a little for breath.
I hold out a gloved hand to him.
“That’s three times I’ve saved your life now.”
I pull Nox to his feet, but he keeps ahold of my hand. Not letting go as he rises.
“Looks like I owe you one again,” he says.
His fingers stay interlaced tightly with mine. The mark of the king like a magnet between us, stitching our palms together.
Nox’s eyes flare with something bright and new, as our hands hold steady. It’s a look that makes my body hum.
Some people have adventure in their bones. Nox is one of those people, and when I’m with him, it feels like I might too.
He makes me want to seek out challenges and be curious, when life has only ever taught me to be indifferent and obedient to the world.
Nox squeezes my hand, just a little, and my stomach shifts. His touch ignites me. I wish, harder and more desperately than any wish before, that I could feel him without the barrier of my gloves.
“Come on, princess,” Nox says. “We have a sword to find.”