The Spirit War

CHAPTER 20

Josef Liechten, king of Osera for nearly two hours, stood at the watchtower window. Eli stood beside him, watching the sea with an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. He’d finally ditched the ridiculous blond wig, and even his hair looked subdued after so many days of being pinned down.

“Not you too,” Josef grumbled, glancing at his friend. “If you’re looking gloomy I might start thinking we really are doomed.”

“Well,” Eli said softly. “That is a lot of ships.”

Josef looked back at the sea. “That it is.”

The Empress’s armada stretched from horizon to horizon. Black ships, each the size of a small city, rode deep and heavy in the water. Their sides were like cliffs, rising a hundred feet above the ocean’s surface. Their masts were great towers, and their decks swarmed with countless men in black armor. Josef swallowed. He’d seen paintings of the Empress’s ships before, but nothing could have prepared him for their true size. For the first time in his life, he understood why they were called palace ships.

“Majesty?”

Josef looked to see the admiral standing in the door. “The fleet is ready, sir.”

“Good,” Josef said. He turned to go, but stopped again as Eli’s hand closed on his wrist.

“Are you sure about this?” Eli whispered.

“Doesn’t matter,” Josef said. “If even one of those ships makes landfall, we’ll be overrun. Our only hope is to sink them before they reach the shore. The real question is, are you sure you can hold up your end of the plan?”

“Not in the least,” Eli said with a broad smile. “But we’re going to try.” As he said this, he laid his hand on his chest, just above the burn that held his lava spirit.

Josef nodded and started for the door. “Tell Nico to meet me on the ships when she gets back. And Eli,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “Good luck.”

“You too,” Eli said.

Josef waved and stomped down the stairs. When he reached the landing, he saw Eli turn back toward the window, his face strangely determined, almost angry. The light around him seemed wrong, too white for this time of the afternoon. And then, as the door swung, Josef caught a glimpse of what looked like a woman’s white arm slide around Eli’s chest. Josef froze as the door clicked shut, and then he shook his head. It was way too early in the fight for him to be seeing things. He took a deep breath to clear his mind and hurried down the stairs.

Eli stood perfectly still as the Shepherdess wrapped herself around him from behind.

Why so dour, darling? she whispered in his ear. I told you this was coming, didn’t I?

Eli closed his eyes. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Benehime laughed in delight and spun him around. You were waiting for me?

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Eli said, pulling away. He reached out, pointing to the endless line of ships. “Did you do this?”

Benehime tilted her head. Do what?

Eli had to fight to keep the shaking rage out of his voice. “You said that the Empress was coming to kill me in revenge for taking you away. Did she think of that herself, or did you plant the idea in her head?”

What a thing to say. Benehime pulled her arms back with a pained expression. I’m the Shepherdess. I don’t start wars. She paused, waiting for Eli’s expression to soften. When it didn’t, she walked to the window with a sigh. I don’t see how this is so difficult for you to grasp, love. Nara is a warrior; war is her nature. What other retaliation can she have but to come and kill the one who stole me from her?

“She could be mad at you,” Eli snapped. “You were the one who left. I was eleven and unconscious when you made me your favorite. That hardly counts as stealing.”

She can’t be angry with me, Benehime said, her voice ringing with musical laughter. Nara loves me. Everything does. You said it yourself.

Eli could feel the anger boiling up his body, and he forced himself to bite his tongue before he said something he’d regret. Beside him, the floor creaked in reverence as Benehime leaned over and laced her arms around him.

Don’t be stubborn, darling, she whispered, pulling him close. I don’t want this war any more than you do, but I can’t help you unless you ask. Your rule, remember? Not mine. Even so, I tried to warn you. I told you to come home, but you never listen.

Eli jerked out of her grip. “The moment you say something that isn’t self-serving, I will.”

Benehime’s eyes narrowed, and her fingers tightened, digging into his shoulders like claws. Must you always be so stubborn? she hissed, pulling him against her with terrifying strength. How can you stand there and play that you’re still capable of getting by on your own? Give up, darling! It’s over. You and I both know your swordsman’s pathetic little country has no hope of beating the Empress. All those men down there are going to die if you don’t ask for my help, maybe your Josef along with them. Can you bear that much blood on your hands?

“Blood on my hands?”

The words ripped out of him before he could stop them. This was too far.

“What of that is my fault?” he cried. “You were the one who abandoned the Empress. You were the one who made me your favorite. I had no say in any of it! I was a child. All I wanted was to live my own life. Now the Immortal Empress is here to destroy a kingdom in order to kill me because you don’t care for her anymore, and you’re saying the blood is on my hands?”

Dress it up however you like to make yourself feel better, Benehime said, her white face cold and haughty. Nothing changes the fact that you could stop this war right now. All you have to do is draw on my power, your rightful power as my star, and you could set everything right, but you won’t. People and spirits are going to die today, and it’s all because you’re a prideful, hateful boy who’s too stubborn to know his place and come back home where he belongs.

“You think I don’t want to go back because of pride?” Eli shouted. “Do you have any idea what it was like to live with you?”

Benehime’s voice grew frigid. Yes, she hissed. It was paradise, but you were too spoiled to know it.

Eli squeezed his eyes shut. He was going too far. The Shepherdess was very dangerous when she got cold, but he was so sick of this. So sick of walking the line of her favor. So sick of pretending.

“I’m not going to ask for your help, Benehime,” he said, his voice as cold as hers when he opened his eyes again. “I’m not going to use any power you gave me. And I’m never coming back to you.”

The temperature in the room dropped as the Shepherdess studied him. You shouldn’t tell lies, Eliton.

Eli balled his hands to fists at his sides. “I’m not lying.”

The Shepherdess looked at him a moment longer with that cold, terrible expression, and then she turned away. We’ll see how you hold on to that arrogance once the dying starts, she said, her voice tight. I will see you soon, beloved, and when I do, it will be on your knees. She looked over her shoulder one last time. That I can promise you.

She pursed her lips in a silent kiss, and then she was gone, vanishing through a white hole in the air.

Eli stood with his fists clenched and his chest straining, holding in all the foul names he desperately wanted to fling after her. Some risks were too great even in his anger, but he didn’t hide the look of disgust as he turned away from the empty air where she had vanished and began marching toward the door.

“Eli?” Karon whispered cautiously. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think?” Eli snapped, nearly pulling the door off its hinges. “We’re going downstairs, and we’re going to help Josef win this bloody war.” And he was never going back to her. Never. Never.

Karon didn’t say another word as Eli took the stairs three at a time down to the storm wall.

Josef’s admiral was waiting for him on the vertical stair leading down the storm wall to the bay. Tesset was standing beside him. They both stepped aside to make room as Josef joined them.

“You coming out on the water with us?” Josef said, studying the Council man.

Tesset smiled politely. “Absolutely not. I don’t care for boats, and I have a feeling I’ll be more useful here.”

“Have it your way,” Josef said. “But it’ll be a boring post. Nothing’s getting to the shore.”

“Consider me as insurance,” Tesset said. “On the off chance anything should slip by your blockade.”

Josef shook his head and pushed by, slapping Tesset on the shoulder as he passed. Tesset didn’t even wobble under the blow. He just stood there, smiling as he watched Josef and the admiral head down to the beach.

“Are the boats supplied like we talked about?” Josef asked, taking the steep, treacherous steps two at a time.

“Yes, majesty,” the admiral said. “All our remaining clingfire has been loaded, though I don’t know what good it’ll do.”

“We only need a little,” Josef said. He jumped the last stair and hit the sand running. All the boats but one were already out in the water. The last and largest, the Oseran flagship, was waiting for him at the end of the dock. It was a beautiful runner, twenty feet long and narrow as a barrel with a crew of fifteen strong oarsmen as well as a high, narrow sail. The men saluted as Josef ran up the plank, jumping onto the deck with a force that rocked the ship.

“I’ve put archers on the cliffs to cover your retreat, my lord,” the admiral said from the dock. “Remember, there’s only two hours left until the tide. I’ll set the signal fire thirty minutes before. You’ll have that much time to get in.”

“More than enough,” said the flagship captain, an enormous sailor who looked like he’d spent his life on the sea. He turned to Josef, and the swordsman saw a flicker of disgust on the sailor’s face. Josef tensed. King he might be, but most of Osera still thought he was dirt. But whatever the captain’s private feelings, he hid them with the discipline that made the Oseran navy famous.

“On your word, sire,” he said with a sharp salute.

“Go,” Josef said, moving up to the prow of the ship.

The moment the word was given, the deck jerked under his feet as the oars hit the water, and the narrow ship darted into the bay. The other ships rocked to life as well, falling in behind the king’s flagship as the fleet shot out of the sheltered Rebuke and into the blue water of the open sea.

Josef stood on the prow, letting his body adjust to the wind and the pitch of the boat. He’d almost got it when the boat suddenly dipped. Josef turned as the sailors cried in alarm, and his face broke into a smile as he saw Nico stepping out of the shadows beneath the mast.

“We’re fine,” Josef said. “She’s with me.”

This didn’t seem to reassure the sailors, but they kept rowing, glancing sideways at Nico as she squinted at Josef from beneath her dark hood.

“How’d it go?” Josef said.

“Pretty well,” Nico answered. “I went to every one of the outer villages just like you said. They didn’t believe me at first, but once I pointed out the Empress’s ships, they went along just fine. The catapults are being set up right now. If a palace ship gets within two hundred feet of the outer island shores, it’ll be bombarded.”

“Good,” Josef said. “Won’t be enough to sink a palace ship, but a barrage will make landing troops hairy. That’ll have to be enough to protect our flank for now.” He squeezed Nico’s arm and stepped past her, climbing back up on the prow so he could look the rowers in the eye. “Listen up!” he shouted. “The admiral and I explained this earlier, but since we’re the flagship and everyone’s following our lead, I’m going to say it again. We’re not out here to fight the Empress’s fleet. Our only objective is to stop her advance long enough for reinforcements to arrive from the mainland.”

He threw out his arm and pointed down at the water. This far out, it was beautifully clear. Down below, the shadow of their boat shot across the bright, rocky reef that waited thirty feet below the waves, the natural barrier between their island and the sea. “See that?” Josef said, stabbing his finger at the reef. “That’s our weapon. All we have to do is hold them over the shallows and let the tide do our work for us.”

The captain gritted his teeth. “Begging your pardon, majesty, but how are we going to hold ships that big with no clingfire? The admiral said you had some kind of secret weapon, but, and I ain’t intending to be speaking above my station, I don’t see nothing on you but a big metal bar.”

Josef grinned wide and reached over his shoulder, drawing the Heart in a smooth arc. “This big metal bar is all we need. Just row where I tell you to go. I’ll do the rest.”

“Aye, sire,” the captain said, though he couldn’t hide the tremble in his voice. “Full ahead.”

The flagship shot forward, cutting through the water like a knife toward the front line of the palace ships.

The Empress’s fleet slowed to meet them, the palace ships halting their unnatural speed as they reached the edge of the reef. Josef fell to a crouch. The other runners had fanned themselves out around the flagship and were keeping pace, just as they were supposed to. Josef was just starting to feel good about this whole crazy operation when he felt Nico tense beside him.

“What?” he said, glancing at her.

Nico was staring straight ahead, eyes wide. “Was there always an island there?”

“What are you talking about?”

Nico pointed at the sky behind the palace ships. Josef squinted against the bright sun, and then his eyes went wide as he saw it too. There, rising like a specter over the enemy fleet, was the shadowy shape of a large, rocky island. But that was impossible. Osera was the last land in these waters. Yet there it was, sturdy and large as any of the Oseran mountain islands. Even this far away, Josef could make out the shape of buildings clinging to the island’s rocky slope. Buildings in a style he’d never seen before.

His blood began to run cold, but even as the fear rose, Josef made himself let it go. “Forget it,” he said, raising his voice. “Nothing has changed! Full ahead!”

“Aye, sire,” the captain said. “Steady!”

The sailors obeyed, and the Oseran fleet flew at the line of palace ships like a tiny bird flying at a wall that spans the world.

Nara stood on the balcony of her war palace, watching the tiny specs of the Oseran fleet approaching her front line. Her ornate sword was out and naked in her hand, a rare sight, and one that made her general extremely uncomfortable.

“Hail, Empress,” he said after waiting a solid minute for her to notice he was there.

“One of the Hundred Conquerors has fallen,” the Empress said, raising her sword for him to see. “I still don’t believe it. I haven’t had a sleeper fall since I took the high mountains. What was that, two hundred years ago?”

“Two hundred and fifty-three,” the general said. “If my Empress is referring to her war with the Ascetics of the Great Glacier.”

“Oh, yes,” the Empress said. “That pack of ice builders. A good war, if I remember. I think I ended up commanding their glacier to provide the water that turned the northern plains green.”

“For which your people will forever sing your praises, Empress.”

The Empress nodded and sheathed her sword. “So long as the sleeper accomplished its task, it matters little, I suppose. I’ll just have to make a new Conqueror when this is finished. We have more with us, don’t we?”

The general bowed. “Seventy-three of the Hundred ride with your fleet, Empress. They await your command.”

“That should be more than enough,” the Empress said. “Report.”

The general stood at attention. “A hundred ships approaching from the island, all light attack craft, just as in the last war. None have shot the clinging fire yet, but your wizards are standing by to squelch the flames if needed.”

The Empress nodded. “And the shallows Den warned us about?”

“At our present speed, our front line should cross them in plenty of time to avoid the tide,” the general said.

The Empress frowned. “The front line is fifty palace ships?”

“Fifty-five, Empress,” the general corrected gently. “More than enough to take such a small island. We’ll begin bombardment as soon as the first ships are in range. The land will be yours before nightfall.”

“See that it is,” the Empress said.

The general bowed and backed into the palace, closing the curtain behind him. The moment he was gone, Nara felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle in a familiar way. A smile of pure joy spread over her face as she turned to find the Shepherdess lounging on her imperial couch.

“My Lady,” the Empress whispered, falling into a deep bow.

How goes the invasion?

Nara stiffened. The Lady did not sound happy.

“We’re about to crush the Oseran fleet,” she said quickly. “Do not worry, Lady. I told you I would give you the world, and I will, starting with this island.”

It is a dour little island, the Lady said, twisting her snowy hair between her fingers. Promise me you’ll burn it to the ground.

“I will crush it into the sea,” Nara swore. “Anything to make you smile.”

And to her great joy, the Shepherdess did. She held open her arms, and Nara ran to her, falling into the Lady’s lap like a lost child.

Darling, loyal Nara, the Shepherdess said, stroking her dark hair. Would you die for me?

“In an instant, Lady,” Nara said, tears rolling down her cheeks as she pressed her fingers against Benehime’s bare, white skin. “I am loyal to you body and soul, life or death. Every breath I take is yours, as it always has been.” Unlike the boy, she wanted to say, but she did not dare. She would not bring that thief into this precious moment when she had her Shepherdess to herself at last.

The Lady pet Nara’s head like a cat’s. Remember, she said. Crush this island and its defenders. Break them utterly. I want them desperate.

“It will be done, Lady,” Nara said, clinging tighter than ever. “I swear it.”

The Lady smiled one last time and vanished, her body slipping through a white line in the air. Nara fell forward, collapsing on the couch where the Lady had been. As always, her absence left Nara reeling, and she lay gasping on the silk cushions, her eyes shut tight against the hateful darkness that remained when Benehime was gone.

When the weakness finally passed, Nara pulled herself onto the couch and opened her soul a fraction. A wind answered at once.

“Tell the front line commanders to fire as soon as they’re in range,” the Empress said. “I mean to make an example of this island. Tell the wizards to use every war spirit we’ve got. I want Osera burned to ash.”

“Yes, Empress,” the wind whispered, spinning away.

Nara smiled. She wasn’t sure what the island had done to deserve the Lady’s displeasure, but it was a boon to her. An absolute victory here could be enough to make the Lady remember at last who her true servant was. That thought made her sigh in happiness, and Nara sank into the pillows to watch the show as the first of her palace ships hit the Oseran fleet.

The Oseran runners darted between the palace ships, the flagship shooting ahead as arrows rained down on them from the enemy decks.

“Hold steady!” Josef cried, cutting an arrow out of the air just before it landed in the rower behind him. “Are the others in position?”

“Right behind us!” the captain shouted.

Josef looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, the other runners were coasting right on their tail with their clingfire already lit in the throwers. Josef grinned and pointed the Heart at the palace ship on their left. “Bring us up right next to the hull.”

The flagship surged forward, cutting through the breakwater until they were an arm’s length from the palace ship’s cliff-like side. Josef set his feet on the bucking deck and held the Heart in front of him, closing both hands on the wrapped hilt. He closed his eyes with a deep breath and let his thoughts go. His mind cleared like the sky after a storm, leaving only the sword in his hands. He could feel the Heart’s presence resonating with his own, and the image of a mountain appeared behind his eyes. An enormous, sharp peak, cutting the clouds. A sword cutting a ship.

The cut would have to be perfect, a niggling voice whispered. Any amount of drag and he would crash his own ship before the enemy’s. Josef snarled and pushed the doubt away. He gripped the Heart until his hands ached, letting the sword’s weight anchor him as the rest of the world fell away, leaving only the feel of the wind and a profound stillness. As the quiet settled, he could almost feel Milo Burch standing in front of him, his old face smug as ever as he spoke the first truth of swordsmanship.

A sword cuts whatever its swordsman wants it to cut.

Josef gripped the Heart tight, relaxing his body until the Heart was part of it. Part of him.

A sword cuts whatever its swordsman wants it to cut? Josef smiled. Time to test the limits.

Giving himself fully to the weight of the mountain, Josef opened his eyes, and the world rushed in.

The palace ship’s hull was right beside him. He could smell the tar on the wood, feel the iron strength of the enormous black beams. His body moved with the buck of the sea as he braced the Heart in his hands and lifted the blade, its scarred face a black hole in the afternoon sunlight. And then, in the emptiness between one wave and the next, between the breath let out and the breath inhaled, he struck.

The Heart flew in his hands, moving like an extension of himself. He did not feel the wood as it passed. Did not feel the nails as he cut them. All he felt was the will to cut swelling through his body and into his sword. The Heart sang as it struck, a great iron gong vibrating through the sea.

Josef’s knees buckled as the blow left him. He fell into the boat as the runner turned midstroke and began to race away from the palace ship. The sailors were rowing with all their might, arms straining as they pushed the runner faster and faster. For a moment, Josef couldn’t understand why they were running, and then he looked back at the palace ship, and he saw.

The palace ship was carved open, its great side split just above the water, starting at the ship’s middle and running all the way to the stern. The cut was perfectly clean, slicing through the wood without so much as a splinter, and wherever the wood was cut, the ship was bowing. A great creaking sound drowned out the waves as the palace ship’s side began to slide, pushed sideways by the ship’s own enormous weight. The ship groaned as the sundered boards ground together, and then, with an earsplitting crack, the wooden supports snapped, and ship’s side began to fall open.

Suddenly, Josef could see the inner decks and the sailors running through them, scrambling for cover as the metal skeleton that held the ship together folded under the pressure of the unsupported hull. Already the water was flooding through the crack to fill the lower decks, soaking the sailors who scrambled for the pumps as the entire ship began to tip. But then, just before the hull cracked completely and began to crumble into the sea, the falling wood stopped. For a breathless second, the ship hung frozen, the collapsing side poised in midair. And then, with an ear-splitting crack, the wood shuddered and began to pull itself back together.

“Now, you idiots!” Josef screamed. “Do it now!”

His voice shot across the water, and the crews in the assist ships stopped gawking and began to scramble. The air was filled with the sound of snapping rope as crews hit their clingfire launchers and a rain of ever-burning fire shot out from the Oseran fleet into the palace ship’s closing breach. The clingfire exploded when it hit, sending sticky, burning pitch flying in all directions. Everything it touched caught fire, no matter how wet. If it could burn, it did.

The moment they’d launched their fire, the runners peeled away, darting across the water as arrows from the other palace ships chased them. The blobs of clingfire had been small, and only half the runners had shot on this attack, but the damage was done. As the fire spread through its belly, the broken palace ship began to groan. Even Josef heard the agony in the sound as the hole that had been pulling itself together began to slip once again, the great beams falling into the water as the hungry sea rushed in to fill the void.

The palace ship was leaning at a thirty-degree angle now. Sailors slid overboard as the enormous deck tilted, their bodies vanishing into the churning waves as the sea surged through the broken hull. Through the ship’s cracked side, Josef could see sailors flinging water at the clingfire, but it did no good. Clingfire could burn for three days underwater so long as it had fuel. The ship would keep burning even after it sank.

When they were safely over the shallows again, the flagship slowed, and the oarsmen turned to survey the destruction.

“It’s a miracle. That’s what it is,” the captain muttered as the palace ship began to sink in earnest. “A bleeding miracle.”

“No,” Josef said, pointing out to sea. “That’s the miracle.”

The sailors’ eyes followed his gesture. A few hundred feet away, the Empress’s fleet had ground to a halt. Several of the palace ships were dropping lifeboats as men jumped from the sinking ship, and the whole fleet seemed to be turning in on itself. In toward its own, and away from Osera.

“And that’s how one runner fleet stops the Empress,” Josef said, leaning on the Heart as Nico helped him to his feet. “And the longer they stay like that, the closer we get to low tide and the real miracle. Now, bring us around. Those ships may be stopped, but they’ve still got their bows, and we’ve more palaces to sink.”

The captain blinked, eyes wide. “Aye, my king.”

Josef just nodded and pushed off Nico to resume his position on the prow as the runner turned to join the others already darting between the stopped fleet.

Den the Warlord hung over the railing of the palace ship, watching with an enormous grin as the ship ahead of his begin to sink. Beside him, the captain was throwing a full-on fit.

“We cannot lose a palace ship before we’ve even reached land!” the man was screaming. “Get the wizards on deck and take out those blasted fishing boats!”

There was more, but Den ignored it. He was watching the man standing on the prow of the fastest boat, the man who had just sliced open a palace ship. Den breathed deep, savoring the anticipation. Now there was the kind of opponent he’d been waiting for, but how best to go about it? A duel on boats would be no fun. No real footing, not for the kind of power he’d be throwing around. Maybe he could spoil the man’s ship and send him running to shore?

Den was still thinking over his options when he felt something brush against his spirit. He froze, taking in the feel of it. It was a wizard’s will, a familiar one. He focused on the pressure, trying to place it, and found himself facing the shore. Den leaned out over the railing. A man was standing on the beach. This far, his face wasn’t clear, but Den didn’t need to see his face. That stance was unmistakable.

Pure joy flooded through him. He’d thought he was lucky to find the swordsman, but here was a fight Den had been waiting on for decades. He glanced back at the Oseran boats. They were coming around again, the swordsman riding the prow of the flagship with his sword out. Shaking his head, Den turned away. The swordsman could wait. If he was good enough to split a palace ship, then these idiots wouldn’t be able to touch him. He’d still be around later. Meanwhile, he was going to deal with some unfinished business.

Den turned to the panicking captain and grabbed him by the shoulder, lifting him clear off the deck and holding him there until he was sure he had the man’s undivided attention.

“I need a boat.”

The captain’s face went pale with terror. “The Empress said—”

“The Empress and I have a deal.” Den tightened his grip. “I get to kill whomever I want. Now give me a boat.”

“Fine!” the captain cried. “Just put me down!”

Den dropped him, and the captain collapsed in a heap. His officers rushed forward, but the captain waved them away. “Give the Empress’s champion a boat,” he gasped, clutching his shoulder. “Let him do as he likes.”

The officers looked at Den, and then one ran off toward the lifeboats. Den nodded to the captain and turned to follow. He stepped into the boat and sat down, waiting impatiently as a crew lowered him down the long drop from the deck to the sea. The moment he hit the water, Den opened his spirit.

“Take me to the shore,” he said, stomping on the boards.

The boat gave a terrified creak and obeyed, shooting across the water as fast as it could go.

“Sire!” one of Josef’s rowers shouted. “There’s a boat headed for the shore!”

Josef looked over his shoulder. They were circling to avoid the arrows, waiting for their chance to strike the next palace ship. Now was the perfect moment for the enemy to counter.

“I’d hoped we’d have a bit longer,” he said. “How big a boat?”

The captain grabbed the glass from his neck and peered through it. “Looks like a lifeboat, sire. I see one man.”

Josef held out his hand and the captain handed the glass over. Sure enough, a rowboat with one occupant was rushing toward the shore faster than their runners. Josef scowled. The sailor looked normal enough. Huge, certainly, and a fighter, but he didn’t seem to have a weapon. The man’s face was in profile, but he looked familiar, somehow. Josef was trying to place him when he heard Nico suck in a breath.

“That’s Den the Warlord.”

“The traitor?” the captain said, squinting at the tiny boat. “Impossible. He’d be an old man by now if he’s still alive at all.”

“It has to be Den,” Nico said with absolute certainty. “He’s the only person whose soul could look like that.”

Josef had no idea what she meant, but he was too preoccupied to care. “Captain, turn us around. Den the Warlord killed five thousand men in one night when he defected. We can’t let him land.”

“No,” Nico said.

Josef looked at her in surprise, but Nico just clenched her fists.

“You’re the only one who can sink the palace ships,” she said. “And that’s the only thing keeping the fleet at bay. If you leave now, the fleet will cross the shallows before the tide and this whole mission is for nothing.”

“It won’t matter if Den’s already finished the job,” Josef growled. “Turn us around.”

“No,” Nico said again.

Josef jerked at the determination in her voice. “Nico…”

“You’re king now,” Nico went on. “Your duty is here.” She looked back at the shore. “I’ll stop Den.”

“Nico, no,” Josef said. “Den’s the highest bounty in Council history and maybe the best fighter in the world. I have to—”

“You can’t make it there fast enough,” Nico said, her voice firm. “I can. Or don’t you think I can win?”

Josef set his mouth in a stubborn line. “It’s not that I think you can’t win,” he said. “It’s what I think you’ll have to do to get there.”

“I already won my hardest fight,” she said, lifting her chin. “Stay and be king, Josef. It’s what you promised. Besides, it’s my turn to do something for you.”

Josef clenched the Heart’s hilt. “This isn’t some damn give-and-take, Nico. You don’t owe me this.”

“You’re right,” Nico said. “I don’t. It’s my choice to fight for you, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

Josef turned with a curse. “Fine,” he growled, running his free hand through his wet hair. “Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“I’ll do what I have to,” Nico said, sliding into the mast’s shadow. “Same as you.”

“Nico!” Josef’s arm shot out, but his fingers caught nothing but air. He was too late. She was gone.

The boat rocked as he lurched toward the shore, but he couldn’t see anything from this angle. He cursed again, louder this time, slamming the Heart’s pommel against the boat so hard they nearly tipped.

“Sire?” the captain said nervously when the worst of the boat’s rocking had passed. “Are we going back?”

Josef closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Nico was a survivor. If she decided to win, she would win. She would survive and come back to him, no matter what. Josef held that truth in his mind as tight as he held the Heart and he forced himself to let the anger, and the fear at its root, go. Slowly, the battle calm settled over his mind again. When he was sure he could trust himself, Josef straightened up and turned to face the captain.

“Our job hasn’t changed,” he said. “But we’re fighting on two fronts now. Nico will hold the beach, so it’s up to us to hold the water. Now bring us around, and let’s hit another ship.”

“Aye, sire,” the captain said. “Full speed!”

The men shouted to the other boats as the Oseran fleet shot forward. Josef stepped back onto the prow, Heart in his hand, but when he tried to clear his mind in preparation for the next strike, all he could see was Nico vanishing into the dark.

The Heart jerked angrily in his hands, and Josef pushed the vision away, pouring himself into the present as the runners raced toward their next target.