“Res!” I yelled, my voice torn away by the wind. I reached for the cord, and emotions hurtled back down, flooding me with Res’s fear and panic. He grasped for control but couldn’t lock the magic back inside.
I shoved Ericen up, and he rolled aside, but something pulled me back atop him. Scowling, I shoved him down and pried at the rope around my waist. The other end trailed up to the harpoon embedded in theAizel’s mast—the source of the rope he’d used to get me out.
Ericen slid a knife free from his boot and sheared through the rope with a cleansnick. One of the sailors who’d hoisted us up helped me to my feet, and I stumbled toward the mast, but my legs felt weak and my lungs were still starved of air. My knees buckled and struck the deck.
Res, you have to stop!I called down the line.
Desperation echoed back, beating through my mind—help help help. Once, in the quiet of Caylus’s workshop, I’d pushed Res’s magic free along the cord. Maybe if I could do the reverse, if I could shove it back inside him before it tore us all apart… I closed my eyes and concentrated on the link. I focused on the feel of it strung between us, on the snap of wild energy darting through it. On Res’s own fear at not being able to stop and the magic raging through him, as wild as the surrounding storm.
Then I seized it. Pain shot through me, sharp and radiating like a shock. I gasped, unable to grab the cord. Too much magic sizzled through it.
I forced myself back to my feet. The wind buffeted me back, snapping at my skin with debris. I could barely keep my eyes open.
Ericen appeared at my side, sliding under my arm just as my knees gave again. I fought to keep my feet as he towed me forward through the wind, one arm wrapped like a vise about my waist, the hand of the other clasped about my own.
My wounded arm stung viciously, and everything ached from the fall, but I pushed ahead. If I could just reach him—something sharp sliced along my back, and I gasped.
Res!Pain seared through my back and shoulder. A new emotion shot down the cord: horror.
Res let out a shrill, anguished cry, struggling to withdraw the magic. It kept flowing. A piece of shrapnel sliced my cheek. I tore free from Ericen’s hold, forcing step after step toward Res. Then I was before him. The cool metal of his armored feathers was hard beneath my touch. I seized him, wrapping my arms about his neck and pulling him close.
I’ve got you.I clung tighter to him. He shook in my grasp, alternating beats of emotion pounding inside me. Fear. Pain. Confusion. Fear. Pain.Horror.
I’ve got you, Res. Let go.
The cord shuddered, then slackened. The magic zipping along it slowed, the tornado of wind and wreckage around us dying. Then all at once, it stopped.
Debris clattered to the deck. The wind fell still. Res’s feathers turned from metal to silken black, and he collapsed into my arms. I dropped to my knees.
“I’ve got you,” I repeated, clinging to the words, to him, to an ancient, powerful beast too big to hold that shook in my arms like a hatchling. “I’ve got you.”
* * *
The storm had pushed us nearly to shore. With the distance between us, Malkin’s ravaged ship couldn’t catch up, and we coasted into Trendellan waters with the last remnants of our sails.
I hadn’t moved from my spot on the deck, Res still clutched in my arms. Echoing emotion like racking sobs trembled down the bond.
In that moment, I understood. Res had blamed himself for my fall, and he’d lost control. When I’d resurfaced, he couldn’t rein himself in, and he’d only hurt me more. A dozen nicks and grazes joined the slice of Razel’s blade and the cut of the arrow, and my entire body felt weak from the fall, and Res blamed himself for all of it.
“I’m okay,” I whispered, but Res could feel my pain as I could his. It spiderwebbed through my heart, filling me as if it were my own. I wanted to soothe it, to take it away, but it was so raw and full of fear. Like if I touched it, he would scream.
Hot tears trailed down my cheeks, and I knew Res felt the turmoil inside me. He could feel my desperation, my fear, my shame at not being able to help.
Guilt rocked between us, a second, darker link that bound like a chain.
“We’re okay,” I breathed, the words half prayer.
Footsteps sounded, and I looked up into Samra’s grave expression. I expected her to yell, to blame me for her decimated ship, but she only nodded at the presence at my side. The one I’d been ignoring, even as I felt the heat of his gaze searing into me.
“He belong to you?” she asked.
Something like a laugh choked out of me. I looked up into Ericen’s concerned face. Only then did I notice Kiva standing to one side of him, Sinvarra leveled at his throat. He’d disregarded the blade’s presence as if it were a gnat.
I expected him to quip back at Samra, but he didn’t. For some reason, that made my heart skip.
“Why are you here?” Kiva demanded.
“Traitors tend not to be welcome on Illucian ships,” he replied.
