Gabe shifted, crossed his arms. “What about me and Lore?”
Michal sighed. “It’s none of my business. Believe me, Malcolm has told me that over and over. But she’s my friend. I care for her.” Finally, he turned from the ocean to pin Gabe with his gaze. “And I want to know that you and Bastian are going to be kind to her. She deserves that, at least. Deserves some rest.”
To hear the three of them lumped together so easily took Gabe aback. It was the same conclusion he’d come to—that he couldn’tchoose between them, and couldn’t ask Lore to do it, either—but to hear it plain, not judged or questioned, made him soften in ways that felt dangerous when one was on one’s way to battle.
And it was a glimmer of hope he hadn’t known he needed, to hear the three of them surviving mentioned like fact. Like there was no other way this could go.
“I promise, Michal,” Gabe said.
The other man nodded. “Good.” He wandered away, off to find Malcolm.
Gabe stared at the current and thought about rest. Thought about how he could give it to Lore. Thought about the endless, exhausting pull of power.
“The captain wants you.”
A sailor he didn’t know stood behind him, hands clasped behind his back. “If you’ll follow me.”
It wasn’t a request. Gabe turned from his contemplation of the water and followed the sailor to a door at the stern.
A war room, a large table lined with heavy chairs, the Caldienan flag hanging from the wall. But no one was in here but Finn.
The erstwhile pirate held a cigarette despite the close quarters, aiming his thin streams of smoke toward the tiny porthole. None of them quite made it, hanging around the room instead. “Sorry,” he said, and sounded like he actually meant it, waving a hand to dispel the miasma. “It’s what I do when I’m nervous.”
Gabe crossed his arms as the sailor left, shutting the door behind him. “You’re admitting to nerves?”
“You’d have to be an idiot not to be nervous on the eve of war. And I am neither an idiot nor fond of pretending to be one.” Finn took one more drag before stubbing out his cigarette on the edge of the table, leaving a smear of ash. “I want to discuss what’s going to happen when we arrive in Auverraine. Ideally, we would have done this before we ever stepped foot on a ship, but I believe I speak for both of us when I say time is of the essence.”
“Get to Auverraine. March on the Citadel. Malcolm and I will go speak with Apollius.” It wasn’t much of a plan, but Gabe had to believe that Bastian was still somewhere in there. He had to believe he would fight his way out, and then they could find a way to the Mount with the piece and put everything to rest.
Is that what you want to do?Hestraon asked.
Finn looked at him like he’d been kicked in the head. “It’s slightly more involved thanthat.”
“What, then?” Gabe arched a brow. “I light the Citadel on fire, like you said before? Malcolm grows a tree through the middle of the North Sanctuary? I don’t think either of those things will help us much.”
“Neither will trying to convince the God of Everything to play nice.”
Gabe ground his teeth.
“You can bet your ass that any attempt at diplomacy is going to go south,” Finn said. He stood, matching Gabe’s height. “We both know that’s not how this is going to work.”
“Why don’t you enlighten me on how it will, then?”
“With your fire-god problem—and, hopefully, the element of surprise, given that you and the King were something like friends at one point—it will hopefully work fairly easily.” Finn gave him a shrewd look. “It’s probably best if you go in alone, actually.”
“Go in alone to do what?” But he knew.
“Kill Bastian Arceneaux,” Finn replied.
Fire feathering at the corners of his vision, crackling in his fingertips. Not anger this time, though. Closer to despair. “I can’t.”
“Sure you can.” For all that he sounded flippant, there was sympathy in Finn’s gaze. “I know you two have a history, Remaut. You and him and that girl who wove death. But he isn’t that man anymore. He’s the skin of a god. And that god is going to use him to do terrible things.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Gabe snarled. “You think that isn’t all I’ve thought of for months?”
“Then surely you’ve come to the same conclusion.” The sympathy was still there in Finn’s face, but so was unflinching resolve. “There’s no way to save him, Gabe.”
He wanted to scoff at that. He couldn’t.
