My vision hollowed out to a memory—of wide, panicked blue eyes. Long, golden hair. Lips forming a desperate plea.
Please, Aiden.
I jerked my head with a growl, shaking the image away. “I don’t have a choice.”
“Strong minds know there’s always a choice.”
“Weylin needs to die for what he’s done. Even if that means she loses both her parents as I have. I will ask forgiveness for the first death. But not the second.”
Nikella studied me for a long moment in the same way she’d studied me when I fell or skinned my knee as a child. Or when I insisted on helping lead a rebellion of farmers in Pravara. Or when I finally crawled out of that gods-forsaken mine and into the light.
Or when I told her I’d killed the queen of Rellmira.
She was looking to see how deeply I was wounded. Not just on the outside, but the inside as well. She wanted to see how the pain had changed me.
When I was little, I used to think she could see my soul with one look. She always seemed able to read my mind, why not my soul too? Later, I learned it was just her way of surviving. And helping others to as well.
At last, she spoke. “So be it. Shall we load the ship?”
I nodded but hesitated while picking up a box. “Did she... say anything to you?”
“Not a word.”
I ground my teeth together. “Don’t say anything to Maz. Or anyone else on the ship. Understood?”
“Yes.”
We silently carried the crates of explosives and our hidden weapons on boardMynastra’s Wings. The docks were fairly quiet with only a few ships in the harbor. All seemed quiet and normal on deck but below?—
Belowdecks housed almost fifty Dag warriors and twenty sailors polishing weapons and armor.
Readying for battle.
Chapter 42
Aiden
Night had fallen.And with it, a silence so complete, I looked forward to destroying it.
I crouched in the shadows of Skelly’s dark ship and kept my eyes fastened on the cliff road gate.
Waiting, waiting, waiting . . .
A faint explosion echoed down to me, and I tensed. A moment later, the gate slammed shut.
Yes!I breathed a sigh of relief. The piles of gold I’d paid the guards had worked. I’d hated giving more to them than the seventy warriors waiting beneath my feet. But revenge burned stronger than greed.
I ducked my head in the hatch. “It’s time.”
The bone-rattlers who had decided to join our fight climbed out first. They’d strapped wide swords next to their strings of bones, which they’d tied up to keep silent. They wore scarves over their long hair and smudged soot around their eyes.
Skelly gave me a nod from the ship’s helm. He’d keep a lookout for us and make sure our escape vessel was ready for departure.
The Dags emerged next, led by Nikella, stripped of her cloak and staff. Her black hair was braided like the Dags, and she’dforegone face paint except for a strip of black around her eyes. She carried her double-headed spear in one scarred fist and some of our bombs in a pack slung across her back.
The rest of our bombs were scattered among the Dag warriors.
They wore full armor, with dented metal strapped to their chests, shins, and arms. Their long, braided hair was threaded with metal and leather, and their entire faces were painted in blue, black, and red. They carried axes, swords, and a few bows with arrows. One of Maz’s sisters carried a pair of scythes.
