As lightning cracked overhead, I lifted a trembling hand from the wheel and willed. The next wave that reared to crush me broke aside, parting around the prow instead of capsizing us. Ropes that had whipped and snarled went slack for a breath—just long enough for me to wrench the sails back under control. The wind shifted—not calmed, but caught in the canvas the way I needed it to, dragging the ship straight instead of spinning her broadside. It wasn’t power I understood. It was instinct. Desperation. The ocean was vast. Violent.
I seized the wheel again, torn palms slick, body shuddering. This time, I didn’t steer alone. The sea itself seemed to bear theserpent ship forward, heaving beneath me, driving us into the storm’s towering wall. Not away from it. Not around it.
Through.
The only chance—the impossible chance—was the eye. Shelter, if I could reach it.
Stars.Was I truly that desperate? Yes.
Magic responds to intention.Eira’s voice cut through my thoughts, fierce and certain.Focus. Give it shape.
The storm pressed in, furious. I closed my eyes and shoved my will into the wheel. Not muscle—command. Not a plea.
An order.
Hold.
My mark flared hotter, burning against my skin until I swore it left trails of light in the air. The quartz throbbed harder, its glow faint through the satchel’s leather, like a coal refusing to go out.
The sails snapped but filled instead of tearing. Ropes shrieked, fraying, but held one heartbeat longer than they should have. Lightning forked across the clouds, catching the serpent’s carved head until it gleamed silver-bright, fangs bared against the night. Sparks danced along the ropes beneath my grip, vanishing into spray. My mark burned hotter—a beacon in the dark.
I bared my teeth in a snarl. “Come on.”
I wrenched the wheel and drove the ship forward. The vessel climbed a mountain of water, mast bowing, every knot and spar groaning. My skin prickled with every pulse. We crested the wave—suspended, silent—and plunged. For one heartbeat, the world went still.
The storm struck back. The second wall rose faster. Taller. No hollow calm waiting beyond it. No mercy. The wave slammed sideways, snapping my grip loose. Wood screamed. The deck pitched hard to starboard. The mast cracked like bone. Water poured over the rail in a freezing, crushing sheet.
The ship did not climb. She rolled.
The wheel tore free. I slammed into the deck as the world inverted—sky, sea, sky—
and then the ship went under. Black water swallowed everything.
Cold punched through me as I was dragged down, limbs tangling in sail and rope. Pressure crushed my chest. Panic clawed through me wild and blinding—
I tore myself free, kicking hard, breaking the surface in a ragged gasp as wreckage churned around me. The ship lay broken and half-submerged, mast gone, sails shredded—no shelter left to claim. Everything was gone.
Veyrion is going to be so mad at me. I don't think I'll be able to talk my way out of destroying his ship.
The storm still raged. But through the chaos, I felt it. The pull.
The Veil had always been there—but between the artifact’s draw and whatever had been taken from me, it was only now that I could hear it clearly. A familiar current beneath the violence, threading through my bones, tugging south and deep.
Thalassia.
I was close. My mark burned once more, faint but insistent. The Quartz pulsed against my hip, steady as a heartbeat. The ship was lost. I would have to swim the rest of the way.
Hope sparked in my chest, almost painful. Maliea couldn’t be far now. But with that hope came dread. Thalassia didn’t only mean Maliea. It meant Meris. It meant the Tidekeepers. It meant the ones who had caged me with lies. Relief and fear twisted together, tangled as the currents beneath the wreckage. Closer to my sister. Closer to the only answers I might ever get. Closer to the people who had betrayed me.
Ships dotted the surface—dozens, maybe more. Dark silhouettes cut stark against the pale sky, sails like wings of carrion birds.
Poachers. Pirates. Gods knew who else hunted these waters.
My stomach twisted. If I could see them—could they see me?
I dove. Deep enough that the noise dulled. Deep enough that their shadows stretched thin.
Cold water swallowed me whole, the roar above muting into a distant, distorted thunder. Down here, the world softened—sound reduced to pulse and pressure, light fractured into wavering ribbons.
