And mine,Ana thought, closing her eyes.Mine is forged byblood.
There was a time in her life when she’d never thought she would see the open ocean again. Or at least, Linn thought, not an ocean so beautiful.
The seas had calmed, the storm clouds having given way to a periwinkle twilight that blinked into existence the light of a thousand stars. The moon hung low and round before them, carving a silver streak on the gently lapping waves. The air was cool and fresh, the winds out here salt-tanged.
Ramson and the sailor named Daya spoke at the wheel, arguing over the technicalities of the ship. Their voices tided over Linn.
In front of her, standing at the stern, was Kaïs.
His dark hair billowed lightly in the breeze, sweeping past the dirt and blood and burn marks on his face. He’d gotten those when he’d shielded her from the explosion, back at Goldwater Port.
As though sensing her gaze on him, he shifted to look at her. The silver in his eyes looked like smoke, like ghosts.
And, abruptly, he turned away.
Linn sensed someone come up behind her. Fingers, small but strong, closed over her shoulder.
“I didn’t know if I’d be able to find you,” Ana said, leaning against the guardrail next to her. She sounded weary, her voice so soft.
Gently, Linn slipped her hand into her friend’s and squeezed.“Our paths are irrevocably crossed,” she said. “It seems the fates looked upon us favorably.”
Ana squeezed back. “Thank you,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “For not giving up on me.”
It was the first chance Linn had to look at her friend up close. It was as though, in the past moon, Ana had aged a year. Her cheekbones jutted sharper and there were dark smudges beneath her eyes. What Linn wouldn’t forget, though, was the haunted look in her gaze.
Those eyes flitted open, and Linn saw that behind the shadows smoldered a fire.
“How did you and…” Ana’s expression darkened as she glanced at Kaïs.
“Kaïs,” Linn said, and told Ana the story of their journey from the prison.
Ana listened to Linn’s story with a crease between her brows. When Linn finished, she turned her gaze to Kaïs and said, “He took someone very dear to me.” So few words, with so much weight. It was a story for another time. “You trust him?”
Linn hesitated. There was still so much left to untangle between her and that silent warrior, beginning with her own distrust and prejudice against soldiers like him. All this time, though, he had been the one saving her. “I want to” was all that she could offer. She thought of the steadiness to his grip as they’d leapt from the tower on the Wailing Cliffs, of how he’d offered her his cloak on the mountain. The way his face had filled with sadness when he’d spoken of his mother.
“He saved my life,” Linn continued. “More than once.” Three times. She’d counted. “He tells me he is running from the Empress, too; that he searches for his mother, and that he wishes to join your ranks. Give him a chance. Please.”
Ana’s eyes narrowed, and Linn saw them flick to Kaïs again, considering. A muscle twitched in her jaw.
And then the flames, the anger went out. Ana exhaled. “All right. He stays with us. But we tell him nothing—not until he proves to us that he is trustworthy. We don’t know if he’s working with the enemy.”
In a low voice, Ana began to tell Linn of the few weeks they’d spent apart, of the pieces of information she and Ramson had come across. Linn listened in part fascination, part horror, as Ana recounted Tetsyev’s appearance back at Goldwater Port, of Morganya’s plan to create Affinities, and of the rumored weapon in Bregon.
The words brought a memory back, one that she’d wanted to bury. Even thinking about it made her shudder. “During our travels together, we saw something.” Linn described the blackstone wagon, the man with the two Affinities, the way the Whitecloaks had lost control of him and murdered him. “Kaïs could help us,” she finished. “He knows more about the Imperial Patrols than any of us.”
Ana’s face had gone pale. “So it’s true,” she muttered. “This is important. We need to talk with Ramson.” She paused, and her voice became gentle. In an instant, it was as though she’d switched from commander to friend—as though there were glimmers of two girls inside her, struggling to find a balance. “I’m sorry, Linn. I haven’t yet asked you what you want.” There was a vulnerability to her voice that Linn had seldom heard. “Are you still with me in this fight?”
The chaos and destruction at Goldwater Port haunted Linn, the screams and pleas of helpless civilians lingering in her mind. She shivered when she remembered that man with Affinities to ice and fire, his moans cut short by the fall of a sword, the flash of a silver helmet.
Morganya, Linn understood, had promised to bring justice to Affinites, to the oppressed, to those wronged by the system.
Yet what Linn had seen that day, a scene of Imperial Patrols overpowering and hurting an Affinite, was utterly familiar. It held echoes of the memories that had been carved into her bones, of when she’d landed on the Empire’s icy shores and begged for help from the soldiers bearing Cyrilia’s Imperial insignia—only they had turned away.
Nothing had changed with Morganya’s new regime.
Looking into the ever-fierce eyes of her friend, Linn found that she’d known the answer all along. She would fight, for every Affinite and civilian who had felt the helplessness and terror she once had; for every child who had lost their innocence in that shadow war…and for every sister who had lost a brother to the traffickers.
Linn leaned forward. “I am with you.” Her voice rang steady and clear. “I would not be anywhere else.”
