TWENTY-SEVEN

“SO, I HEAR YOU HAD AN EPISODE.”

I set down the book I was reading. Not The Creation of the Thrones since Brother Thistle wouldn’t let me anywhere near it in my current state, but a book of Sudesian philosophy borrowed from one of the masters.

“Marella!” I sat up in bed—slowly, so as not to jar my aching head. “You’re awake.”

She swanned into my cabin with her usual grace. She looked almost like her old self, though thinner, paler, and more serious than before. Her hair was pulled back and tied with a piece of ribbon. She wore a brown fur jacket over a blue skirt, the color bringing out the pansy violet of her eyes.

“Nice clothes,” I said drily.

“This old thing?” She smoothed a hand over the fur.

I cleared my throat. “It’s mine.”

“Noticed that, did you? I don’t have access to my wardrobe at the moment. I didn’t think you’d mind if I raided your trunks.”

“I don’t mind at all.” I gave her a welcoming smile. “It’s good to see you up. Would you like to sit?”

She sat gingerly on a wooden stool, the only movable piece of furniture in the room, looking around awkwardly, as if searching for something to focus on. The cabin didn’t offer much to inspire conversation, only the necessities of bed, trunk, table, and washstand, all bolted to the floor.

I thought of at least a dozen things to say and discarded all of them, settling on, “I’m really glad you’re feeling better.”

She took a deep breath, meeting my eyes. “Thanks to you.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

She lifted a finely arched brow. “Oh, no, nothing. Merely scaled a monstrous cliff, broke into a heavily guarded keep, fought off a score of armed fanatics, and risked your life to rescue me from a slow death.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you have to be so heroic all the time? Don’t you get tired?”

“I’m not heroic,” I said a little defensively. “Cirrus sent me a vision of you, and we thought you’d know directions to the Gate. Turns out, she was showing me Sage and you just happened to be there.”

Her brows drew together. She looked down. I saw that her hands were clenched in her lap.

I swallowed. “I didn’t mean that like it sounded. We wanted to find you, too. I worried from the moment Eurus took you. I know Arcus was worried, too.”

She waved me away. “You don’t have to say that.”

“It’s true.”

Her voice softened. “I thanked him, too. He was cordial. I tried to apologize, but I could tell he didn’t want to hear it. He won’t forgive me for what I did.”

“When you brought the frost Minax to Sudesia, you were under its influence already. You couldn’t have fought that. I know what it’s like. Now more than ever.”

She relaxed a fraction. “That’s why I came in here, actually. I heard what happened and thought you might want to talk to someone who understands. Did you really try to throw the Fireblood prince overboard?”

Her haughty tone when she said Fireblood prince didn’t escape me. “His name is Kai, and yes, I did. I remember enough. Unfortunately.”

I’d done nothing but agonize about it since. The things I’d done to Kai, the things I’d said to Arcus. The memory ate at me like a thousand biting ants.

“So is that why you’re hiding in bed?” she asked. “Doing penance? Being tragic?”

I sat up straighter. “I’m here because I have a raging headache. Someone—they wouldn’t tell me who—conked me over the head, which was apparently the only way to disable the Minax once I’d gone full Nightblood, or whatever you want to call it.” I saw concern in her eyes, and found myself adding, “I was completely lost to it, Marella. I was trapped inside myself, and I couldn’t get out.”

I didn’t know if I was looking for condemnation or absolution.

“You don’t have to explain it to me.” Her eyes were sympathetic, her voice serious. “You hear your own voice talking, you feel your body moving… and the things you say even sound like you, but it’s not you. It’s that thing. And it’s wearing you like a coat.”

We both shuddered.

“Is it… awake?” she asked.

I put a hand to my chest. “Oh, I wasn’t thinking. Can you sense it? Does it bother you?”

She’d hosted the other Minax for weeks. I figured she would be sensitized to the presence of another.

She shook her head. “I’m all right. I sense it on some level, but it helps that it’s not the same creature. The frost Minax felt different.”

That was true. From my experience with the two Minax, I knew they each had a different signature, a distinctive essence.

“No, it’s not awake right now. Lucina filled me with sunlight or something while I was knocked out. But I still feel its anticipation, like there’s something on the island and it can’t wait. Probably thrilled to be reunited with its creator.”

“No doubt,” she said bitterly. “The vile god and its vile creation. They’re welcome to each other.”

The ship rocked with a creaking groan. Perhaps the east wind warning us not to speak that way about a deity.

My hands curled into fists. He wasn’t worthy of the name.

“What did he… Did Eurus mistreat you?” I asked. “Aside from the obvious, of course.” Those small matters of abduction and imprisonment. “The vision showed me the moment you were brought into the cell.” I hesitated. “I saw a… mark on your shoulder.”

She inhaled sharply, her lips pressed tight, hands clenched. “He branded me, that foul dog. No, he’s worse than a dog. A… a rodent. A beetle. A centipede! All his Servants wear the brand, so he made me get one, too. I fought like mad, harder than I’ve ever fought in my life, but I couldn’t get away.”

Her voice broke and she covered her face. Broken sounds and jagged breaths escaped her cupped hands. I stared in shock for a second, hardly comprehending. Marella was sobbing.

Then I threw off the quilt and moved to the edge of the bed, reaching out to comfort her.

“Don’t touch me!” She jumped to her feet. Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes red. “I can’t bear it. Not… not when that thing is inside you!”

I backed up, feeling sick at the clear revulsion in her expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

She wiped her tears with trembling fingers. “It’s not your fault. I just can’t bear it right now.”

“I understand.” I moved to the farthest corner of the bed and wrapped my arms around my bent legs, making myself as small as possible.

After a minute, she sighed. “I came here to offer you comfort, but it looks like I’m the one who needs it.”

“It’ll take time, maybe a long time, but someday you’ll heal. We’ll send Eurus packing and then we’ll fight until we get our lives back.”

“Do you really believe that?”

I nodded, meeting her eyes. “I really do.”

I believed it—for her. But when it came to myself, I wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Then I’ll believe it, too,” she said.

My heart twisted. She looked so uncertain, like my words were a lifeline she clung to. But who was I to throw her a rope?

I was already drowning.

The next day, the wind all but died. Fog descended, muffling sound. Sunlight couldn’t penetrate the soupy mist.

We ghosted through the water, tacking into a feeble headwind. The word becalmed was repeated in hushed tones with looks of dread. If the wind died completely, we’d be dead in the water. A sailor’s worst nightmare.

After breakfast, I came on deck for the first time since my “episode” as Marella had called it. Tiny fog droplets hissed as they hit my skin.

Jaro joined me at the starboard rail. I was touched to see that he didn’t seem afraid of me. “I don’t like it. It should be too cold for fog this far north.”

“It’s ice crystals.” I turned my hand, watching them melt. “The fog is frozen.”

“A bad omen,” he muttered, shaking his head as he walked away.

The tension wound tighter as the day went on; partly because the visibility was so poor, we had lost track of our scout ship the previous night. As an effective and useful distraction, Brother Thistle and Seva—Frostblood and Fireblood masters—drilled the crew on how to make frostfire. They didn’t actually use their gifts, since it would have been far too dangerous, instead practicing the level of intense concentration that would be needed. It was funny to see them scrunch up their brows, eyes closed, while lifting their arms and directing their hands at invisible targets.

As the day went on, I started to feel invisible. I stayed on deck for hours waiting for Arcus to appear, but he never did. Kai didn’t look at me once, and I couldn’t bring myself to approach him.

Just before the first dogwatch, a sudden breeze cleared tendrils of fog away, revealing a black sail, nearly on top of us.

Kai shouted, “Beat to quarters! Clear for action!”

There was a flurry of activity as sailors secured barrels, coiled ropes, and scrambled into the rigging adjusting sails. Seva rushed past, taking her place at the rail with the other Fireblood masters. Frostbloods positioned themselves at intervals, ready to douse any fires. In the confusion, I couldn’t see Arcus.

The other two ships in our armada were barely visible on either side.

Everything inside me wound tight. Had they been following us, or had we sailed right into their territory? The latter made more sense. We were close to the Isle of Night. There would be large numbers of Servants here. Our ships had prepared for this, but with everything that had happened, the imminent threat hadn’t seemed real.

Two ships appeared in the mist, the third’s sails barely visible as it split off from the others.

I joined the Fireblood masters at the rail, waiting for the enemy to come within range.

On Kai’s order, we projected streams of flame. Their ship returned fire. Our Frostbloods blocked with frost. A gout of fire made it past our defenses, setting a barrel alight.

One of the enemy ships’ mainsails caught, then their foresail, with small fires springing up all over their deck. The captain shouted orders and his crew sprang into action. The burning ship heeled as it put about. We continued our onslaught, while the enemy crew emptied buckets of water on their deck. No Frostbloods on that ship, then.

The fog thickened.

Meanwhile, a second enemy ship had aimed at us, its bow straight abeam, its shrouds bellied out with a sudden tailwind, as if a wind had intervened to run the ship straight at us, broadside. Our masters sent out streams of flame, but even if their sails burned, that wouldn’t stop their momentum. The impact would surely split our hull.

As Kai spun the wheel, the crew worked the sails to move us out of the way. The Fireblood masters and I made room as Frostbloods lined the rail.

“Freeze!” Kai shouted. “Now!”

Arms out, they began freezing the water between us and the other ship. Ice built up in layers until it formed a barrier several feet wide. The enemy ship slowed but continued forward, its hull plowing through the ice.

I spotted Arcus among the others. His gift wasn’t back to full strength after our escape from the Servants’ keep. I watched him worriedly.

“Enemy to starboard!” the lookout shouted.

A third ship had maneuvered itself on our other side, careening at us through layers of mist. More Frostbloods rushed to repeat the same defense on that side, freezing the water to slow the enemy’s approach.

Kai jumped to the rail, joining the other masters, adding his fire to theirs. In seconds, the two enemy sails raged with flames. Their sails caught, and burning sections of yardarms fell to the deck. But still, their momentum brought them closer.

Even if the ice slowed them enough that they wouldn’t crush us, we’d find ourselves boarded within minutes. The Servants’ stolen Tempesian ships were larger than the Errant Princess, their crews probably double ours. We’d be captured or killed. Judging by the number of survivors of their other attacks, our chances of survival were slim.

As orders were shouted from the quarterdeck, I watched it all as if from a distance.

“We can’t stop them,” I murmured, struggling not to give into terror.

The Minax fed off my fear.

Defend! Fight! Kill!

I flashed back to a memory of my demonstration in the arena, when I’d used the Minax to possess and frighten the Frost Court. The Minax had essentially broken itself into pieces, all part of a whole.

The Minax urged me on. Fight! Kill! But the very fact that it was encouraging that course of action made it suspect. If I used it too much, would it take me over?

I shook my head, trying to think. There was no other way. I had to do whatever I could to stop the Servants. But if I was going to break the Minax into pieces, I needed to be able to direct those pieces. I couldn’t risk losing control the way I almost had in the arena when the bloodlust would have taken me over if not for Kai.

Two ships. Impossible. I couldn’t divide my attention between two ships. If only someone else could wield the creature with me, could help me direct it when its shadowy form was dispersed over such a large area.

Marella.

The moment her name popped into my head, I was scrambling down the companionway and pounding toward her cabin.

She’d survived the Minax’s possession longer than anyone else, aside from me. Growing up hearing the whispers from the throne of Fors must have given her a level of tolerance. She was the one who had first proved that the Minax could be controlled—albeit by using the creature against me in Sudesia.

Could I trust her? Could she bear to let one of the creatures touch her mind again?

No time for doubt.

As I swung her door open, her hand flew to her throat.

“What is it?” she asked, sitting up on the bed with wide, frightened eyes. So different from her previously fearless personality.

“Remember when I said we’d send Eurus packing?”

“Yes,” she answered hesitantly.

I motioned briskly. “Now’s our chance. Come on!”