There was no competition. I didn’t have a hope. She was theTouchstone, born from the RuneTree. GoddessLindurithain, worshipped by his people, lover of his soul. Mythic, mystic, dreaded, and free. She knew his secrets. She held his heart. I was just a wretched woman, caught up in his currents, eager to dive, willing to drown.
But he was hers. He had always been hers. I was only the channel between them.
My chest felt as hollow as a bird’s. It was my own damned fault.
And by Forge, it was fine. So very fine.
I was fine.
I took a deep shuddering breath, however, knowing I was not.
He turned his face to the horizon.
“We have perhaps five bells before we reach the threshold. Assemble your crews and make whatever preparations you need make. Say whatever prayers you need said. But when the bell sounds again, we will play our hand and trust in our gods, our fates, and our ship. For then, we shall surely fly.”
The twitch of a lip. I knew him by now. It was as much a smile as anything.
“And once we reach the Cloudgate, we will drinkallthe rum.”
The crew cheered at that, but I held my tongue. My heart was heavy, my hope run dry. There was no salvation for me on the Cloudgate, no treatment, no cure. I was the map and the power, nothing more, and damn it all if it didn’t hurt worse than any cut I’d ever known.
He nodded then, once and swiftly, and the crew rushed to their assigned tasks. Dev and Echo stayed at his side, so I hung back, waiting to see what I should do next. To my surprise, Thanavar’s knees buckled. They caught him, as if expecting to, and took him by the arms toward the hatch.
I glanced over at Smoke. He tried to smile, but his brows gave it away.
Damnations.
Lethergo, Dev had said,and by all that is holy, let yourself go as well.
And my hollow bird chest cracked wide open.
It wasn’t just the ship that was dying…and we had five hours to change that.
I took a deep breath and followed them down.
The door slid, and Echo peered out.
“Ensign, this is not a good time.”
“Let her in,” came Dev’s voice, and the faun stepped aside.
“Only briefly,” said Echo. “He has strict instructions for me to wake him within the hour.”
I nodded, stepping into the cabin.
“I’ll be back soon.” And Echo sent a look my way before sliding the door shut behind him.
The cabin was dark, save for one candle, flickering and dripping wax on the desk. Under the transom windows, the winter hawk slept, beak tucked beneath his wing, his breaths coming shallow and fast. Dev sat next to him, one hand stroking the great bird’s neck.
I sat, folded my gloved hands in my lap. I couldn’t speak. The words stuck to the roof of my mouth. I forced them out.
“I have questions.”
“You have the worst timing—”
I crossed my arms. “I’m not the same person I was when I came aboard,” I said. “And it’s not just the chimeric. I see things I’ve never seen. I remember things I’ve never lived…”
Be wary. Be wise.
