I flatten myself against the deck and belly-crawl toward the splintered cavity. As I press my palms into the drenched teak, little rocks embed themselves inside my palm. I start to brush them off when I catch sight of their color—black. This must be what the clay-brained Faeries are shooting at us.
Fallon?!
I don’t make a peep, too afraid to drag him into the path of these pellets as I crawl over to Gabriele’s side, my body airlifting and slamming down into the deck three times.Lore, I beg you, ease your storm before it tosses me into Mareluce.
The ocean quiets immediately. The change is almost too quick for my liking.
I pick my head off the wooden slats and stare around me for the gleam of an iron crow.Lore?
The great wheels groan, and smoke bursts against my jaw, the only place on my body not covered by fabric.
Not smoke, Behach Éan; me.
My heart slams against my ribs.No! Get back, Lore. Please. Get away.
No more obsidian is being launched, mo khrà.
I blink at the wheels and find that they have, in fact, stopped spinning, then blink at my mate.You can see me?
No, but I can hear your heart beat.
The world is suddenly so quiet that I can hear wet grunts and heavy thumps down below.
I tug myself nearer to the Crow-shaped crevasse and squint. Though the boat no longer lists, my stomach empties at the stench and sight below deck.
Seventy-Three
My vomit sluices atop a head right as it rolls into the boots of a Crow in skin. Erwin.
The male peers at the noxious splash before craning his neck up to uncover its source.
Our enemies are gone, Behach Éan. You can make yourself reappear.
Gone.What a pretty way to say dead.
I flop onto my back, focusing my stinging eyes on the Crows circling the cotton balls of clouds until my stomach spasms calm. Only then do I carry my trembling palm off my abdomen and onto my forearm. I hover it over my skin like Justus had done back in the obsidian stronghold. When my skin prickles, I lower my hand and wipe.
A soft gasp sounds beside me.
I loll my head to the side to find Gabriele blinking wide eyes at me. “Hey.”
He doesn’t utter a single peep, just gapes.
I roll onto my side and then onto my knees. “I’m going to get Colm off you, okay?”
I stand and inspect the giant statue’s overturned body for an entry wound, spotting a small depression smack in the middle of his abdomen. Unless I climb him, I won’t be able to reach it. Though I’m not particularly heavy, I don’t want to add to the pressure crushing my friend, so I seize Colm’s wing. Gritting my teeth, I soften my knees into a squat, then push into my thighs, shoving the black wing as high as I can, which isn’t high enough to break Gabriele free.
“Justus!” I grunt. “A little help.”
He must hear my entreaty because his steed flies him down to the galleon’s deck. “Did they find the runestone?” he asks as he makes his way toward me, casting his attention left and right as though fearing a soldier escaped the Crows’ wrath.
“I don’t know yet. Help me lift Colm?”
He looks down at the younger Faerie, mouth pursed with pity. “I’ll lift him; you grab his body. When I saygo, you drag him out, all right?”
I nod and drop into a crouch, grab Gabriele’s arm and hook his belt. “Keep your eyes on me, Moriati.” I add a smile that I hope will comfort him.
The wooden slats creak.
