Several soldiers were thrown overboard into the raging sea, water drenching the deck and pouring off the sides. Those who’d survived yelled orders, frantically trying to recover. I exalted in the rush of power that flooded the link between Res and me, even as part of me recoiled at the destruction.
On theAizel, Malkin had recovered, advancing on Caylus. But something had settled in Caylus’s eyes. Something hard that turned their soft green to jade.
Malkin lashed the whip, and Caylus caught it, letting it wrap around his forearm. Then he jerked it. Malkin stumbled toward him, and Caylus caught him by the throat, throwing him back against the ship railing. A wave crested over the top. When it pulled away, Malkin was gone.
Overhead, the storm grew, expanding in a flood as it fed off Res’s energy. Lightning snapped down on the blockade ships, shattering wood and sending soldiers screaming over the edge. Flames erupted to life, their hunger fed by Res’s power. The rain turned to shards of hail.
I searched the melee for Razel, but she’d vanished from the main deck.
An arrow clipped Res’s wing and sliced open my arm.
Res screamed as our pain flooded the link, and he turned erratically. Unprepared, I tumbled out of the saddle, seizing one stirrup at the last moment.
The wind buffeted me as Res tried to pull up, but my weight pulled him off balance, the line of the stirrup crossing over his wing and impeding his flight.
Razel stood high on the quarterdeck, my bow drawn with the second arrow she’d plucked from the ship’s side. Kiva rushed toward her, sword drawn, but she wouldn’t be fast enough.
Razel aimed for Res’s heart.
I didn’t think. I let go.
Res’s piercing cry filled the air. I felt his power erupt a moment before I struck the water and everything went dark.
Twelve
My vision swarmed back in a flash of images. Dark water closing overhead. Snapping, flickering light. A shadow looming over me.
My lungs screamed for air, and I inhaled reflexively, but only water rushed in.
Then a pair of strong arms seized me. Disoriented, I was aware only of the heat and pressure of an embrace and the strange, weightless feeling of being hoisted from the water. But those arms never let go.
Someone rolled me over the railing, and I hit the deck hard. Turning, I coughed up water and tried to choke down air to my burning lungs.
Then the ship pitched, and someone tumbled atop me.
I wheezed at the sudden weight, shoving at the solid form that had pinned me. My fingers curved around a muscled waist, pushing at the same time as the person sat back, his knees on either side of my hips.
Ericen stared back, blue eyes bright with concern. And…was the bastard smiling?
My heart tore in a hundred different directions. A rush of things rose to the tip of my tongue, but before I could pick one, a screech rent the air.
We both looked up.
Perched atop the broken remains of the mainmast at the center of the ship, wings spread wide, was Res. His body crackled with electricity as the storm surged around him, wind spiraling out to catch the debris of the ship, sending splintered wood and discarded blades into a vicious spin.
Below him, the battle had waned. Kiva slid her sword free from the chest of the last Illucian soldier. The rest of the crew ducked for cover from the rising storm as Samra screamed orders over the howling wind, yelling at me to make him stop.
A flash of gold—then Razel was sprinting for the ship’s edge. A soldier flung a rope to her, and she grabbed it. With one final, furious glance at me, she swung to the safety of the other ship. The ropes were cut, and the roiling ocean thrust us apart.
One by one, the feathers from the tip of Res’s beak to the edge of his tail hardened into metal. The wood began to creak around his claws, pulling up from the deck. The masts bent and groaned, cracking like splintering bones.
At Res’s back, a dark mass gathered, swirling like a turning disk.
“Is that—” A crash of thunder cut off the rest of Ericen’s words.
I gaped at the forming storm. Estrel had told me stories of storm crows powerful enough to create hurricanes on their own.
She’d never said how to make them stop.
