He closed his eyes. “Thank Theia. I hope she gets him out.” A wave of content settled over his face. His right hand sank into his pocket. He drewit back out, opening his hand. In the center of his palm, a red drop sat over his lifeline, its waxy shell matte under the island sun.
“I’m like you,” he breathed. “A puppet trapped under Thaan’s thumb, my allegiance sworn to protect my brother. Protect Pheolix. I gave my voice away, too, when Thaan asked. He knows I boarded a ship while trailing you. He heard what I heard, saw what I saw. But I found the last two of hissanguis proditionis. And twenty minutes ago, I took one.”
I flicked my attention from the single drop of blood betrayal back to him. Thaan knew where I was? My question must have been plain on my face.
Deimos shook his head. “Thaan hasn't been in the drones’ minds while we’ve been on the ship. Just mine. Controlling them through me. I let him see the tickets you planted, a ship headed to Cressi. But a year ago, the morning of the solar eclipse, I walked in on you and Selena looking at a map of Leihani. You stuffed it back on the shelf to hide it. I came back later and found it there. Then crossed my fingers, hoping that when you finally chose to leave, Thaan wouldn’t ask me if I knew where.”
He’d known this entire time?
I stared open-mouthed at him, fighting to hold myself steady under a wave of shock.
Deimos laughed softly, releasing the sword to slide his hand against the side of my neck, landing just under my earlobe. His silver-wolf eyes sparkled softly. “You have to sink the ship.”
His knees buckled, and he fell forward. I caught him by the shoulder, reaching for the crisscrossed ties of his sailor’s shirt, searching for the entry point of my sword under the quickly growing puddle of scarlet at his chest. Wondering if I could do what Thaan could and heal it.
“Leave it,” Deimos said softly. “Leave it. Today I die. Today I diefree.” His hand drifted from my ear into my hair, combing my raven-blue strands through his fingertips. The sun’s bright rays shone against the glossy strand, and he stared at them, transfixed.
“In a few minutes, you’ll be the only living soul on this ship. Take the helm,” he whispered. “Ram the ship into the nearest rock. Make sure it sinks to the deep. If another ship finds us bobbing here, Thaan might come looking for you.” He found my hand, pressing the drop of betrayal into my palm. “Live a day of freedom, Cebrinne. I can give you that much, after stealing your future from you ten years ago.”
He began to pull away, but I held his hand, trying to make him glance up at me. I’m not sure what kind of message I wanted to leave with him.Thank youseemed too small. Too futile. I couldn’t even say it out loud.
But his eyes glazed, a far-away look in their depths. He smiled softly again, reaching to stroke the air the way he might pet a dog. The remaining light evaporated from his eyes.
I stood slowly, backing away from his body. Silver glinted across his throat, his chain catching the sun. My throat was suddenly dry. I cleared it hard, the sound silent.
The helm stood not far from me, the deck bathed in bodies and blood.
I waded through. Red tracked behind me in bare footprints. At the helm, I lifted my skirt, letting a small patch of scales surface over my hip. Just enough to wedge the drop of Thaan’s blood into.
Then grasped the spokes of the wheel, throwing my weight to turn the ship.
It lurched, slamming me sideways. Sails snapped over my head, angry at the sudden twist in wind. Wood vibrated below my feet. The ship wobbled, its highway of air now an awkward current. I didn’t know how to read the wind, but I turned the prow toward volcanic Luaahi, the biggest island in the channel. The ship’s bowsprit hung over the waves. I watched as land floated closer and closer.
Slowly. Then slower.
The Ceruleanwasn’t traveling fast enough. I needed more wind.
I circled the mainsail, my feet avoiding bodies, following the rigging where it knotted under the railing. The ship stalled when I freed the sheet, jerking backward under the lack of wind so hard I fell on my back.
The boom, a horizontal pole that framed the sail, swung wildly over my head. I scrambled back to my feet, pulling the control line taut and walking it backwards. The wind pulled back, the sail tugging me onto the tips of my toes.
I fought with it, wrestling wind and canvas. A burn ignited in my calves and arms. Thick sweat erupted across my brow. I heaved sideways, hunching my spine against the brutal tug. It slipped once, heavy rope whipping my cheek, slicing skin. I grabbed it again, walking backwards to a knob only three paces away from where it had been tied before.
My breath released as I hooked it under and pulled it taut with a foot against the rail. I hadn’t even noticed my heart, but it beat loudly now, a racket in my ears. The ship flung forward, twice as fast as it had before.
The island grew. And grew. And grew.
And the ship crashed.
Wood roared.
The world threw me.
The ship hit, and it didn’t stop. It kept moving forward, and as I lay over the main deck, I couldfeelthe boards along the forward keel folding in half. One crack after another, as fast as a wick stealing a flame. Iron screamed, andTheCeruleanshook as its anchor and chains wrenched away.
I pushed to my feet as the ship finally slowed.Make sure it sinks to the deep, Deimos had said. But wind pinned us down over the rock. Overhead, the mainsail remained full, the overflow of air so hard it swept across my skirt, flapping the cotton hard across my thighs.
I crawled back to the knot I’d tied only moments before, reaching for the free line.
