Vaasa was out from the blankets without a care for the cold. Their small boat rocked, and Vaasa gripped the ladder, hauling herself up each step. Her foot slipped, causing Reid’s heart to shoot into his throat, but she caught her balance and kept gaining height. Hands reached down and gripped his wife’s shoulders, hauling her up onto the ship, and she tumbled out of view.
“Go,” Sachia told him.
He stood and the boat rocked, but he pulled Amalie up and over his shoulder, leaving himself only one arm to climb theladder. It was all he needed. Reid hauled himself up despite the way his frozen limbs fought each strain and pull of muscle. He carried himself and Amalie up as quickly as he could, lifting the witch into the waiting arms of the crew members at the top. Koen reached with his uninjured arm. Reid pulled himself onto the deck at the same time a female crew member ran with Amalie’s limp body into one of the private quarters—Jonáš’s, Reid realized.
“Our exit is blocked,” Koen said, pointing to the other side of the Iron Bay, where the Asteryan city guard had created a line of ships. A barricade to anyone exiting the bay. No doubt they were looking for him. For Vaasa. Reid whipped his head to the only unimpeded exit, the place the Asteryans had never been able to navigate by ship, a place only pirates dared to go. A passageway no doubt crawling with the very pirate crews that wanted Sachia dead. An enormous iron statue guarded the entrance, Vaasa’s grandfather’s face lit in the moonlight, but no boats blocked the path.
The Loursevain Gap.
“Move!” Sachia barked as she threw herself onto the deck. “We’re going to have to go through the Gap.”
The boat lurched, and panic broke Reid’s position. He chased Sachia across the deck, glancing back at Vaasa for a moment before asking the pirate “Are you sure about this?”
“I have to be, it’s the only fucking way out.”
“Sachia—”
“What?” she snapped.
“Are you okay?”
She skidded to a stop. Pain unraveled on her face, and after a moment, Sachia turned to the sea and screamed into the air, her grief pulsing around them in a terrible ache that spun around the ship.
The Red Corsairlurched toward the Loursevain Gap, and an explosion rang from behind them. Reid turned to see a large metal ball slam into the ocean near them, a splash ringing.
Another explosion. Sachia lifted both of her hands and curled them into fists sharply. The ball of metal flew to the left, careening into the waves.
The five Asteryan ships still chased them. He had a sinking feeling they would follow them into the Gap, that this chase would last for longer than they could survive it. He surveyed the entrance, the ships that now raced to block their path, and caught his gaze upon the imposing iron tower thrusting a sword into the sky.
“Bring down the tower,” he said on a breath. “We have to bring down the tower.”
He turned to Sachia, who slowly pulled in breath. In and out. In and out. Her magic might be their only chance.
“The tower!” Reid yelled.
Vaasa stepped forward and silently extended Sachia a hand. Magic coated it, spilling from Vaasa and coating the deck just the way she had coated the ocean. His mother joined her, both witches holding out a hand for Sachia to take. The pirate looked at them. Her eyes darted between their outstretched offers.
“Together,” Vaasa said to her.
“Together,” his mother said.
Sachia gripped their hands.
Vaasa’s magic spread from her body. She walked past them all, her hand still in Sachia’s, who led Reid’s mother behind her. The three witches ascended the steps to the highest deck, walking as far out onto the bow as they could go. Sachia turned to the tower, eyes locked on the rendering of Vaasa’s grandfather. The man who conquered this port and set the Asteryan Empire in motion.
Power rumbled around them. The sound of it echoed through the bay in a deafening crack. Sachia lifted her arms, palms facing the metal towers, and then she cranked her hands like she’d done to the locks in the prison. She adjusted her palm, honed that very magic Melisina had been teaching her, pushed it further and further outside herself.
Reid’s mother extended a hand and lifted it slowly. Her shimmering black horse grew from the shadowy fog darting across the water. It aimed for the tower. Vaasa touched Sachia’s shoulder. Melisina touched the other. The power around them doubled. Tripled. A tsunami of its own.
Their ship broke into the gap. Glittering black magic hit the coast and climbed the tower like ivy.
Sachia screamed with her anger as they passed the statue. Her agony slammed against the iron tower, echoing through the bay just like her voice. Reid felt every inch of it—the sorrow, the love, the unceasing need for revenge.
To deliver precisely what had been taken from her.
And then his wife’s eyes glowed crimson.
The same color as Ozik’s, as the Miro’dag. He took a step forward, but the magic around her sharpened. It lifted from the water in tendrils that shifted and moved. Black, glittering ropes, the edges of them smoking and writhing.
