“Oreth wanted power. We want to live.” She squeezes my hand. “There’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
The question hangs between us as the patrol boat slides toward shore. In the distance, Gyla’s fleet continues its advance—five ships full of people who have no idea what waits in the depths below.
“We don’t have to decide now.” Aviora’s voice softens. “But we need to decide soon. If we’re going to do this, we have to move before she makes harbor.”
I nod slowly. My gaze drifts to the Wrecktide—to the calm surface hiding horrors I’ve spent years learning to fear. Then to Dreadhaven’s walls, where the handful of people who depend on me are preparing for a battle they can’t win.
Then back to Aviora. To the woman who’s become more important than the coast I’ve sworn to protect.
“We’ll need a plan.” I draw her against me, one arm around her waist, her body warm despite the cold water still dripping from our clothes. “How do we get the fleet over theFortunewithout getting ourselves killed in the process?”
“Rumor.” Her mind is already working; I can see it in her eyes. “Gyla’s greedy—it’s how she built her empire. If she heard there was treasure in the deep channel, treasure worth more than my debt, she’d send ships to investigate.”
“She’d also suspect a trap.”
“Then we make it convincing.” Aviora turns in my arms, facing the approaching shore. “We let ourselves be captured. Offer to show her where theFortunelies in exchange for our lives. Her greed does the rest.”
“You’d risk yourself as bait. Again.”
“I’d risk anything to keep what we’ve built.” She looks up at me, her expression carrying a depth I’m not ready to name. “You. This place. The chance to stop running.”
I kiss her. Hard, urgent, tasting salt and conviction. When I pull back, her eyes are bright with more than just the reflection of the water.
“Side-by-side,” I say.
“Side-by-side.”
The patrol boat beaches on the black sand below Dreadhaven’s walls. Above us, the keep rises against the gray sky—battered, flooded, half-ruined. But still standing.
Still worth fighting for.
We gatherin the Great Hall as Gyla’s fleet enters the harbor.
The remaining guards—Thorne, Brek, Margit, Ven—stand in a loose semicircle around the table where Aviora spreads her makeshift charts. Even Henek is there, his hostility temporarily shelved in the face of a more immediate threat.
“The plan is simple.” Aviora’s voice carries the confidence of someone who’s survived worse odds. “We let Gyla think she’s won. Surrender peacefully, offer to lead her to theSilver Fortunein exchange for clemency. Her greed takes over.”
“And if her greed doesn’t cooperate?” Thorne’s tone is skeptical but not dismissive. “If she just kills us and takes what she wants?”
“She won’t.” I step forward, standing beside Aviora with my hand resting on her hip. “Gyla doesn’t waste assets. She’ll want to squeeze every coin of value out of us before she considers disposal. That gives us time.”
“Time to what?” Henek’s voice is sharp. “Pray the sea monsters eat her before she eats us?”
“In a manner of speaking.” Aviora meets his hostility without flinching. “TheFortune’s gold is cursed. More cursed than anything Oreth ever touched. If we can get Gyla’s ships over the wreck site...”
She doesn’t finish. Doesn’t need to. The implication hangs in the air, heavy and cold.
Quiet settles through the hall. Outside, I hear the sounds of Gyla’s ships making harbor—anchors dropping, boats being lowered, the organized chaos of an invasion force preparing to invade.
“I’m in.” Brek speaks first, his young face set with determination that looks almost like eagerness. “Whatever it takes.”
Margit nods slowly. “A hundred years I’ve sailed these waters. Lost friends to the Wrecktide, lost cargo, lost hope more times than I can count. If there’s a chance to make this coast safe...” She shrugs. “I’ve done worse for less.”
Thorne looks at me. Her expression carries questions she doesn’t ask—about Aviora, about us, about whether I’ve lost my mind or finally found it. Whatever she sees in my face must satisfy her, because she nods.
“I follow my captain.”
