Mynastra had reclaimed her night sky.
The sun parted the black clouds, lighting upon a glittering sea—and a rough cliff face bisected by a jagged scar. Just like Nikella’s.
Perhaps it wasn’t. Perhaps I’d imagined it all. Perhaps it was simply a strange storm.
But I chose to believe it was a goddess honoring the sacrifice of a Teacher who spent her life defeating monsters.
I staggered away from the railing, ignoring the open-mouthed expressions of everyone on deck.
I collapsed next to Kiera, who still held Maz.
Tears poured down her cheeks. “He’s still breathing.”
And Maz continued to breathe. All the way to Yargoth.
Chapter 50
Kiera
Grief clungto me like the shackles at my ankles. Cold, hard, unyielding.
In the blur of my fear for Maz, I hadn’t heard Nikella’s last words. I caught her last glance, though. The warm, kind one I felt I didn’t deserve.
I’d never thanked her for what she’d done for me—the stories she told me or the training she’d given me. I’d never told her how much her courage inspired me.
I hoped she knew. I hoped she was watching us sail back to Yargoth. I hoped she was proud of the mark she left behind on our lives.
During the three-day journey back to Yargoth territory, I rarely moved away from Maz. I watched his chest rise and fall, praying for the next one. I felt for his pulse so many times, I eventually just left my fingers on his neck.
Aiden searched the Wolf ship for any medical supplies and gently removed the arrow from Maz’s chest. He staunched the blood flow until it stopped, then packed it with a poultice and bandages.
He also shoved Ruru’s arm back in its socket and fashioned him a sling until it healed.
His movements were swift and practiced. But his eyes were haunted. His mind far away under the crushed cliffs of Calimber.
I said nothing, mired in my own memories, which turned into nightmares.
Yarina and Sigrid sat with me and told Maz stories or sang songs. A tall Dag woman named Bruna never left Sigrid’s side.
Ruru often wandered through the ship, looking for Daire, but always came back with a defeated look on his face.
The other prisoners seemed to be in various stages of shock, grief, and joy. Some had lost companions or loved ones in the escape or during their imprisonment. Others embraced each other, happy to be free at last. Most looked forward to landing and finding their families once again.
And Jek. The proud warrior had crumbled when he climbed up to the deck only to discover that Nikella was gone.
He’d fallen to his knees, clutching her spear, and shouted his grief to the waves and to the sky. When Aiden told him what Nikella had said—that she loved Jek, he’d hung his head and wept.
I’d cried again just witnessing his soul-wrenching loss.
Yarina told me a great many Dag warriors had shown up to help destroy Calimber. Jek had led them into battle and kept their losses low.
That victory felt hollow now.
We arrived on the shores of Dagriel, broken-hearted once more.Mynastra’s Wingsfollowed close behind, a little worse for wear after the capture of the Wolf ship. Skelly practically threw himself into the first rowboat to head back to his beloved ship.
The Yargoths greeted us with horses and longboats. But no Wicked. No Ozlow.
Strangely enough, I spotted Helene and Isabel in the crowd, next to Frieda. They both looked calmer than the last time I saw them, fleeing through the woods. Helene wore a fur jacket, andIsabel’s red curls were flying loose in the wind. Pax—the ever-faithful wolf-dog—sat next to her, tongue lolling.
