The dravenkin caught our eyes and nodded behind us. “This way.”
We were only too glad to follow, and he led us down the winding, empty streets. We passed shadows of people and horses, and buildings and fountains. Everything looked so surreal. And so treacherous.
I stumbled, and only Marc’s quick hands kept me from falling. I clutched onto him and swept my eyes over the area. “How is the fog this thick?”
“It’s the Wraithcourier’s fog,” Ramaro explained as he hurried along beside our feet. “It knows we need to get out of here!”
“We’re almost there,” Adrien called out.
Marc righted me, and we continued our journey through the mist. We ran out of a narrow alley, and a carriage loomed out of the fog. A slim figure stood beside the door and shouted at us.
“Seastorm! We’re over here!”
“We’re coming, Henry,” Marc assured him as we reached the carriage where the young lad stood.
He grinned. “We made sure the coast was clear, like you said you wanted in your deckle, and we thought you might want to use this to get away. It belongs to that Crestmoor guy. We followed him and swiped his carriage when he wasn’t looking.”
Marc clapped a hand on the lad’s shoulder. “You did well tonight. I’ll thank you when I get back.”
The young lad in the driver’s seat climbed down, and Adrien replaced him. We hurried into the coach, and the carriage rumbled down the road. I grabbed hold of one of the straps as the vehicle swayed from side to side.
Marc admired the plush interior. “It was nice of Crestmoor to lend us his carriage.”
Ramaro’s head shot up, and his nostrils flared. “I think he wants it back. I smell Managers.”
Marc leaned out and frowned. “They’re following us on horseback. The two who weren’t with him.”
My heart skipped a beat. “He sent them to find his carriage!”
Marc fell back and pursed his lips. “And they’re the most dangerous two. We’ll have to hurry to the shore. Adrien will bide us some time, but he can’t reveal himself too much or they’ll bother him to an eternal grave.” His eyes fell on my arm, and his frown deepened. “Did they give that to you?”
I clutched my hand against my chest and shook my head. “Theo did. He wanted to take my voice to give to Iris.”
A dark glint slipped through Marc’s eyes, but he grasped my hands. “We’ll see to it on the ship.”
The carriage continued its mad dash down the road, and soon the wheels rolled off the cobblestones and onto hard-packed dirt. Marc tensed as we flew over rocks and other mishmash. “We’re on the shore. Get ready to jump out.”
The carriage came to an abrupt stop as if it had run into quicksand. March flung the door open, and we leaped out onto soft sand. The scent of the ocean permeated our nostrils, and the soft splash of the waves came to our ears.
But all I could hear was the pounding of the hooves as the Managers caught up to us. Marc grabbed my hand and pulled me down toward the waves. I risked a glance over my shoulder and beheld the two Managers arrive only a few short yards behind us. They leaped off their horses and raced after us.
They hadn’t made it very far when they were pelted with wet sand balls. The two men shielded themselves with their coats and axe, and continued their chase of us.
We reached the shore just as the fog cleared enough for me to see fifty feet out into the cove. The Wraithcourier’s boat floated toward us. Marc pulled me into the waves, and we were waist-deep when we reached the vessel. He helped me into the vessel and pulled himself in. I leaned over the side and yanked Ramaro aboard.
The boat turned on a dime and floated toward the rocky bluffs and where the Tempest was hidden. The Managers procured a vessel close at hand, and Swinger used his axe as a paddle. The broad side made for a good one, as they began to close the gap between us.
“Can’t this god ship go any faster?” Ramaro snapped.
An idea struck me. I just had to hope it would work, and that we all wouldn’t die in a horrible explosion.
I whipped my face around to Marc and thrust my hands into his coat. He jerked back. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for-ah!” I drew out the vial of disguise juice. “This!”
Ramaro wrinkled his snout. “It won’t matter if we’re disguised. They know we’re on this thing.”
I met Marc’s eye, as the brief trot through the waters had changed him back. “Do you think they know the boat we’re on?”
