Toward Silas.
“I’m here,” I scream in my mind. “Silas, I’m here.”
The crowd parts for me, and I glance at their horrified faces. Many of them are ready but fearful of what the near future brings. I offer any reassuring looks I can, but in my state, the shock settles in like the night around us.
“Where are you?” Silas’s frantic voice echoes in my mind. “Where the fuck are you?”
I stumble forward, not letting the exhaustion slow me.
The crowd lessens, and I move as quickly as I can. Tripping, I catch myself and look up to stare directly into Silas’s eyes across the short distance as he pushes against the flow of the crowd. Panic contorts his beautiful eyes, but he charges toward me. Relief overtakes me, and I race forward, crashing into his strong chest. His hands wrap into my tangled hair and pull me into him.
“Thank the fucking Gods,” he whispers.
“I’m okay,” I say, burrowing into his chest.
Silas pulls me back, his eyes moving up and down my sore body. He grimaces and cups my face. “You don’t look okay,” he says.
I glance down at my armor—gashes and blood cover most of the fabric now, exposing my hip and various parts of my arm. My skin is already bruising, and blood trickles from my split lip. Silas remains untouched, still in perfect condition, and compared to the other people on the pier, I look horrifying.
I pull away and shake my head. “We need to prepare for them to collide with the pier, and fast.”
“Catch your breath,” he says.
“They are almost here, Silas. We are outnumbered, even with one of their ships. This one is the strongest, and it doesn’t just carry resurrected Wielders. There are creatures on that ship.”
“I heard you, Briar.”
“You did?”
“The creatures can’t swim. I prepared the pier with the information I was able to get from you. It felt like our connection was hazy, but I heard you in pieces.”
“Oh, thank Gods,” I say, still sucking in deep breaths.
“They are ready,” Silas says.
“That isn’t all.”
He hesitates before speaking, so I continue, desperate to get everything out.
“Silas,” I grab his arm. “They are after Fen. We have to get her to the house and hidden, right now.”
“They?”
“Rohhit,” I say, struggling to get my words out. “He’s here.”
Silas pales. “I didn’t fucking hear that.”
I feel like I may vomit. “For her.”
“That isn’t Rohhit.” Silas’s eyes go dark. “You know that.”
Without another second passing, Silas spins to a man standing near him, whom I’ve seen a few times, but can’t remember his name.
Silas grips his shirt. “Where is Warrick Pierce?”
The man points toward a dimly lit alleyway. “Last time I saw him, he was there with Captain Nastronde.”
Silas takes a step forward, and I stop him.
