Merrick scrubs a hand over his face. “Already—Callan. It’s too soon.”
“We needed to move fast,” he says tightly. Looking at me, he nods. “I will explain it all. But you should see this. It is part of the story you seek.”
I listen as Leo shouts again, his words too shrill for me to make out. “What’s he saying?”
“The Never,” Callan says in a grim voice. He holds out his hand. “He’s saying that he can see the Never.”
I’ve never heard of it. “What is the Never?”
I study his hand for a moment before taking it. He pulls me upright, but he doesn’t let go. His fingers tighten on mine.
“A punishment,” he says heavily. “For the lives we took. Turn around, and you will see it for yourself.”
I study his face, my eyes narrowing.
And then I turn.
Chapter eighteen
Callan
Istay close to Selene as the others gather next to us at the bulwark. Leo shrinks back into Merrick as loaded silence fills the air.
She’s here.
Safe. Alive.
My mind reels from one thought to another, when I should be focusing on what’s in front of me. But I find myself looking down, trying to see what lies ahead through Selene’s eyes.
Eyes I have seen once before, on a day filled with blood and loss. So much loss.
But one survived.
Her knuckles are white where she grips the wood, leaning forward. “What in Ellas… whatisthat?”
Ahead of us, a dark, ominous cloud stretches across the sky, covering the horizon completely. The sun still shines above our heads, the waves still crash below, but ahead of us, there isnothing.
Closing my eyes, I breathe in. Let the maegis rise up, let it take control.
Below us, the ship shifts. Tilting slightly to the side, before it slows.
And stops. Iron gathers on my tongue, and I swallow it down.
Selene’s hands tighten as she steadies herself, looking around her. “I don’t understand.”
I clear my throat. “Fifty thousand Caelumnai fled Boreas that day. Fifty thousand, scattered across a hundred ships.”
On my other side, Sol’s voice takes over. The heaviness remains, as it always does. “And by the time the day was gone, fewer than eight thousand were left.”
She steps back, away from the dark cloud as if by instinct. Her wings brush against my face as she twists. Brows knitted, she blinks in bewilderment. “What?”
“Sixteen ships made landfall in Asteria.” Tremors shake Esme’s voice. “Fifteen of them were military. One was civilian.”
Rio shifts, tucking her against him. “Eighty-four ships were still at sea when the world turned upside down.”
Memories assault me. The screaming. The wailing. The scent of blood, thick in the air. The pleading to an unrelenting, vengeful goddess who saw what we had done to her priestesses and ensured that we would pay the price for it.
And eyes made of starlight, falling. Swallowed up by crashing waves of water.
