The keys slid, scraping faintly against the planks. The guard didn’t notice. His eyes were on my face, smug at my weakness.
Moriko’s laugh rose—soft, sudden—just enough to cover the sound as I hooked the ring with my chain and drew it closer, inch by inch, until cold metal kissed my palm.
My heart hammered.
I forced my body limp and still, hiding the keys beneath my bound hands. As if my fingers weren’t shaking with victory.
Moriko’s eyes flicked to me once—bright as sunlight on water. She didn’t smile. She didn’t move.
But I felt the current shift between us. There was no use in celebrating out victory just yet. We still needed to free the others and figure out how to get everyone of the ship without killing them all. Not all the creatures were indigenous to water, some would likely drown if we abandoned ship.
A harsh sound pulled my from my thoughts. Steel clashed against steel. A shout—cut short. Boots thundered overhead. The sound of fists, blades, chaos.
The scarred man jerked upright, bowl clattering from his hands. “Saints’ blood—”
His companion swore, hand flying to the knife at his belt. More shouting rolled down through the boards, the unmistakable ring of steel meeting steel.
“Boarders,” the scarred one spat, eyes wide.
They bolted for the ladder. Boots hammered against rungs. The hatch slammed above us, leaving only the echo of their panic and the muffled war cries overhead.
The shouting grew louder—like a storm breaking loose. My hands shook as I pulled the keys from beneath my hands. They glittered faintly in the dark.
Moriko shifted closer, chains dragging across the boards. “Quickly,” she whispered, urgency threaded with calm.
I jammed the first key into the lock at my wrist. The shackle sparked immediately—Silver Salt flaring hot, burning into my skin like fire pressed against raw flesh. I bit down on a cry, teeth grinding.
“Easy,” Moriko murmured.
The key caught—stuck. My vision swam.
I twisted harder. The edge tore my palm. Smoke curled where salt met flesh and I swore through clenched teeth. The weight fell from my wrist, leaving an angry welt seared into my skin. A ragged sound tore out of me—half gasp, half laugh I didn’t recognize.
“Your turn,” I rasped.
Moriko lifted her bound hands. Chains trembled faintly as I slid the key into her lock. Sparks flared brighter this time, crackling silver against her river stone skin. She clenched her jaw, lipspressed tight, but her eyes never wavered. The lock groaned—resisted—then yielded with a pop. The shackle clattered free.
Moriko sagged forward for a heartbeat, chest heaving, then straightened with a defiant curve to her mouth.
I flexed my freed hand, fire still crawling through my veins, and looked up toward the hatch where battle raged.
My blood sang with it. We were free.
Almost.
Shackles lay at our feet. I rubbed the welt on my wrist, then turned to Moriko. “We can’t leave them,” I whispered.
Her eyes flicked to the others—the Korrathi shifting in the dark, antlers scraping wood. The sea-elf trembling, fins tight with fear. The scaled creature coiled in the corner, hissing low.
They watched us now. Silent. Wide-eyed. Hopeful in a way that hurt. Moriko’s jaw tightened. “Every second we waste, the crack may close.”
“And if we walk away,” I said, “it is a promise broken. I swore I would protect those who could not protect themselves. I will not break that oath.”
For a beat she studied me—measuring, weighing. Then she gave the smallest nod. “Very well.”
We moved fast, crouching low to keep the chains from clattering. I fumbled with locks, keys slick in my burned hands. Sparks leapt as I twisted—Silver Salt biting deep, leaving skin raw and throbbing.
The sea-elf let out a strangled cry when her manacles released, clutching her wrists as the faint shimmer of her fins spread wider—her lungs filling freely again. Moriko worked on the Korrathi. When the lock gave, his eyes gleamed like wet stone. He pressed a massive, clawed hand briefly to her shoulder. A vow without words.
