Her literal freedom might have been gone, but wasn’t that what the duke wanted all along? For her to prove herself? She couldn’t fight beside Adelaide or Theodoric now, but she could fight for the life she wanted.
Her eyes followed the railing of the ship. How was she going to get Esaias to shore, let alone the battle still breaking out on the grounds? She’d barely dragged the couple more than a few feet in that house fire, but she was all Esaias had.
Closing her eyes, she forced her stammering heart to calm. Each breath through her nose eased her mind. She would deal with each problem as it came. Crawling to his head, she got him in a sitting position with her knee propping him up. She wedged her arms under his armpits and began dragging him to the edge of the ship.
He was heavier than she expected, and his belt and clothes caught on loose nails and uneven planks. A slew of curses followed, but she refused to give up. She didn’t have Viv to throw him over her shoulder and scale down the hull like the hero she was. Amaris only had her own strength.
With each gasping breath, she spat rain and sweat from her lips. It continued to pour, drenching her clothes. Lightning lit up the deck, and thunder roared in the sky. She ignored the clashing of blades and the ringing in her ears. She couldn’t worry about Theodoric or Adelaide. As much as it killed her to leave them, they were risking their lives so she could save Esaias. They’d trained to fight, while she’d trained to heal.
Each drag was excruciating and short, but she managed to get Esaias to the edge of the deck. A longboat was hoisted to the railing and held with ropes. Amaris blew out a breath and grabbed lower on his torso. As she squatted down, her eyes caught a glint of gold through the sheets of rain.
Amaris squinted, and her eyes found Gris’s body lying across the way. With the rain, she couldn’t tell if she was breathing. Her sopping heap of hair covered her face. Amaris gently set Esaias back on the deck and sprinted toward her. The deck was slippery under her boots, and she came to a sliding halt. She rolled Gris onto her back and dropped her cheek toher lips and felt her pulse. She was alive.
Amaris slung her bow over her back and slid behind her, angling her face to avoid one of Gris’s arrows poking her eye out. Thankfully, she was lighter, and Amaris had little trouble dragging her beside Esaias.
She could barely believe the chaos around her. Adelaide was fighting, and Sephardi had betrayed them. None of it made sense. Sephardi had been the one to watch over her for weeks. They were alone plenty of times, why wait to poison her at the Conjugation?
A surge of footsteps had her lunging over her patients.
“Need a hand?”
Amaris whirled. Adelaide ran up behind her, blood smeared across her face. Amaris threw a glance over her shoulder. Theodoric stood alone against Sephardi.
“He knows what he’s doing,” Adelaide assured her.
It should’ve been a comfort, but Amaris’s gut still tightened. Adelaide jumped into the longboat, wincing and grabbing her side as she braced herself against the hull. She didn’t complain about the blood spilling from her nose or the likely broken rib. Adelaide held her hands out and waited for Esaias.
Amaris hefted him up, shoving him against the railing for Adelaide to assist her in rolling him into the boat. It wasn’t pretty, and he would likely have a few bruises. Gris was next. They got her into the boat, and Adelaide arranged them to balance their weight.
Amaris gripped the railing to hurtle herself into the longboat, but a shout froze her to the deck. Sephardi straddled Theodoric, with a gun pressed to his head, her fingers digging into the wound in his shoulder.
Adelaide popped her head up, but before she could draw her sword and jump over the railing, the ship rocked. Amaris braced herself against the railing, her nails once again clinging for dear life. The longboat swung, sending Adelaide to the far edge. Her muffled scream turned to a raging growl, but then her eyes widened.
Amaris lifted her gaze. A rope holding the longboat hung by a few fibers.
Adelaide jumped to grab it, but the longboat tipped as it snapped. She dropped and swung her arms out to keep Gris and Esaias from pitching forward into the water.
“Cut the line!” Adelaide screamed, her face red as she gripped the edges of the boat to keep them all from slipping out. “Cut it!”
Amaris drew her knife and braced it against the rope. She began sawing, frantically trying to sever it. Her arms burned in agony, and the rain weakened her hold on her knife. A scream from Theodoric stilled her hands.
“What are you waiting for?” Adelaide grimaced, tossing an arrow onto the deck.
The weight of Gris’s bow threatened to shorten Amaris’s spine. One more movement and she’d cut through the rope. But one more cut and she’d be all Theodoric had.
“Do it!”
Amaris sliced her knife across the fraying rope, and the longboat plunged into the sea. She didn’t stop to think. She grabbed the arrow off the deck and the bow from her back. Her fingers moved in a rhythm she hadn’t used since her days of hunting. This arrow was heavier, sharper. Amaris pulled back the bow and aimed. Her arm strained. She hadn’t shot her bow in years. What if she hit Theodoric?
He writhed, his boots shuffling against the slippery deck. If she didn’t shoot, Sephardi would kill him. She forced a deep breath and willed her aim. With an exhale, Amaris released the arrow. It sailed through the rain, slicing through wind. It landed in Sephardi’s shoulder with a startling cry. She fell to the deck, releasing Theodoric and flinging her hand around her shoulder.
Amaris sprinted into action. She willed Theodoric to get up, but he was flat on the deck. Her feet carried her toward him, but she stalled asSephardi shot up. She gripped the shaft of the arrow and pried it from her flesh. Blood stained the arrowhead.
Sephardi tossed it aside and stepped toward Amaris but placed the tip of her boot against Theodoric’s neck instead. He latched onto her ankle, but he seemed to have little strength. His legs kicked, and with her single foot, she cut off his air.
“Should I spare him?”
“Please, Sephardi. Why are you doing this?”
