He rose to his feet, turned to gaze out the hole in the transom wall. Through it, I could see a berg floating silently past the stern and the moonslight reflected on the water. Three moons. Three sisters. Three gleams in the surface of the sea.
“The Channel is open,” he said, “and theTemplemorewill come.”
I remembered the swifts in Ilvalour’s cabin. He would have had time to send one before the end.
Thanavar looked down at the papers on the floor.
“But this time, he’ll bring a fleet.”
My gut twisted at the implication. Bracebridge would bring a fleet because of me. Before, he’d only been seeking revenge on Thanavar and hunting the Stolen Prince. But now, he’d come for the chimeric and the chaser who could wield it.
“TheTouchstoneis the best ship to take on Bracebridge and his fleet,” I said. “You can’t let him win.”
“Men like Bracebridge come and go,” he said. “They are nothing. No one.Ni allath.”
He was a silhouette in the moonslight, a shadow, a wraith, a lean blade of ocean tides and naval blue.
“Ilvalor spoke of aRhi’Ahrarmada that was joining him from the south,” he said. “Soon, they will meet in a battle over the Cloudgate, and they will fight for ownership of the chimeric. Whoever controls the chimeric controls the world.”
“I control the chimeric,” I said, slowly lifting my chin. “I could stay and protect it. Protect her. I would do that for her.”
“I will not leave you on the island alone,” he said.
“You could stay,” I said. “We could be alone together.”
“That is not life,” he said. “That is dread.”
Dread.Oh, my heart.
I rose to my feet now, the sharp wind lifting my dark hair intomy eyes.
“The Court of Sand could protect it,” I said. “They plan to stay. They want to learn. They wouldn’t be alone.”
He grunted.
“They are broken and vain and arrogant to a fault, but they have saved my crew from the storm and the Dreadwall, so I owe them the chance to try.” He ran a hand across his battered jaw. “But we need to stay sharp and focus on our original goal. There is a book we will need in the Heart of the Cloud, written by Brontari himself. In it, the patterns that are foundational to the creation of the Dreadwall. We should be able to restore it, close the gaps once and for all.”
“And if we can’t?”
“Then we cannot,” said Thanavar. “And we are all lost.”
He waved his fingers, and the pages disappeared in a swirl of ash and rune at his feet. As if proving the point.
“The crew of theMarelethanis still on the island,” he said. “Fifty. Perhaps more.”
I swore under my breath.
“I will try to go on ahead and make short work of them,” he said. “But I cannot make a proper wing, so flying will be a problem. I barely escaped theEndorathil…”
His voice caught, and I realized the loss of his hand had effectively ended his life as a hawk. For a man like him, that would be devastating. He cleared his throat.
“Tell Dev to bring the ironmages but please be wary,” he said. “They may be weak, but they are still powerful and they still serve the king. They cannot be trusted. They can never be trusted.”
He slipped his good hand into his waistcoat pocket and slid out the pendant that usually hung around his neck. I looked down at the small, wooden figure carved in the shape of a bird.
“Your hawk,” I said softly.
“Not a hawk,” he said. “A raven.”
