The Spirit War

CHAPTER 22

The sun hung low over the island as the Oseran ships came around. The fleet was looking ragged. Every runner had arrows peppering its side. Many had dead rowers, struck by a lucky shot, and all the sailors were exhausted. Their tiny supply of clingfire was long gone, but three palace ships were now floundering in the blue water. The first was nearly completely under, her sailors streaming off in lifeboats, which the runners harried whenever they could. The second was burning merrily while the third was taking on water through an enormous gash in its side. Josef had just ordered the flagship to circle back for another strike when his captain shouted, “Sire!”

Josef looked to see the dour old sailor grinning like a boy as he pointed to a thin line of red-tinted signal smoke cutting the evening sky over the beach. Josef lurched forward, rocking the boat as he leaned into the water. Sure enough, the sharp tip of the coral ledge was now clearly visible below their keel.

“We did it,” he said, falling back with a grin.

Behind him, the captain began to laugh.

They’d done it. It hardly seemed possible, yet the proof was right below them. They’d sunk only three ships out of a fleet of thousands, but it’d been enough. They’d held the Empress’s palace ships over the reef for the two hours they’d needed. Now the tide was rushing out as they watched, bringing the deep-running palace ships ever closer to the rocks below.

“I wouldn’t believe it if you told me!” the captain shouted, slapping his king on the shoulder. “We did it! Thirty minutes until this whole strand is nothing but ten feet of surf over coral. Those big hulkers won’t even be able to turn around before they run aground.”

“Give the signal,” Josef ordered, laying the Heart on the deck beside him. “We’re going home.”

A whoop went up from the sailors, and they leaped into action. The ship jerked as the sail swung around, forcing Josef to duck or be conked in the head. He didn’t mind. The moment he’d released the Heart, the exhaustion hit him. He collapsed gratefully on the deck, savoring the wonderful feeling of being flat. Although his body was sending him strong signals it never wanted to move again, he reached up one last time, grabbing the edge of the ship and hauling himself up for a look at the rapidly approaching shore. The crescent beach of the bay was shrouded in shadow as the sun sank behind the mountain, but there was still enough light for him to see what was there. Or, more worryingly, what wasn’t.

There was no sign of Den, or Nico. The sand was sundered, and even this far away he could see the dark patches left by blood. Blood, but no bodies.

“What was that, sire?” the captain said.

“I said go faster,” Josef grunted, falling back to the deck.

“Yes, sire,” the captain said. “Fast as we can.”

Josef nodded and lay still as the narrow flagship raced home across the retreating blue water.

The bay filled as the runners returned. Of the ninety-five ships, eighty-two had made it back. A far better number than Josef had expected, and mostly due to the runners’ speed. The Oseran archers simply hadn’t been able to keep up. All around him, men were hopping from ship to ship, hugging and shouting in joy as they roped in.

Josef’s captain steered the flagship away from the crowded docks, beaching it instead. Josef hopped out the second they scraped bottom, sloshing through the water to the beach as he made a beeline for the narrow stair leading up the storm wall. Those sailors already on the beach moved respectfully out of his way, whispering in awe. Any other time, this change would have made him self-conscious, but now Josef was too preoccupied to notice. He reached the top of the storm wall and ran for the watchtower, throwing open the heavy door and climbing the stairs three at a time. Eli met him on the second landing.

Josef pushed straight past him. “How did it go?”

“Den got the worst of the fight, if that’s what you’re asking,” Eli said, keeping right on his heels.

“This isn’t the time to be clever,” Josef growled. “Did she win?”

“Well, Den’s dead,” Eli said. “So is Tesset. Nico is alive, for the moment.”

“If she’s alive, she’s staying there,” Josef said firmly. “She’s a survivor.”

“I’m well aware of your confidence in her unkillability,” Eli said. “But you really should listen a moment before you barge—”

Josef slammed open the door to the observation room and stopped cold.

“—in,” Eli finished, coming to a stop beside him.

Josef said nothing. He just stared.

“I did all I could,” Eli said softly. “But I’m not a doctor, and I couldn’t get the actual doctors near her without her coat going on the defensive. I don’t even know what happened in that fight. I’ve seen a lot of bloodied people, mostly you, but I’ve never seen injuries like—”

His voice dropped off as Josef moved away. Josef crossed the room and fell to his knees beside the small, black bundle lying on the floor against the wall.

Nico was completely wrapped in her coat, cocooned like a caterpillar. That much was normal after a big fight. What wasn’t normal was the dark pool of thick black liquid seeping into the floor beneath her. Josef swallowed. Slowly, gently, he reached out, brushing the wet cloth with his fingers. The coat twisted away from his touch with a sound that reminded him of hissing, but the sound stopped as Nico’s small, pale hand emerged from the coat’s folds, her thin fingers reaching for his.

Josef gripped her hand, sucking in a breath when he saw the black stains on her nails. Her pale skin was mottled black and purple, and he could see the beginnings of larger wounds on her arm before it disappeared into her coat. A long, burning stab of guilt cut through him, and Josef winced, opening his mouth before he realized he had no idea what to say. He sat there a moment, clutching her fingers as he searched for the words.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered at last.

“Don’t be.” Nico’s voice was thin and muffled by the coat. “I kept my promise.”

“You shouldn’t have had to,” Josef said. “This is my war.”

“Your war is my war,” she whispered. “You should know that by now.”

“Well, you won’t have to fight it anymore,” Josef said, folding his hands over hers. “Rest, Nico. I’ll win it from here.”

“I know you will,” she said, her fingers going slack.

Josef raised her hand to his lips for a moment and then carefully tucked her arm back into the coat. The cloth rustled, pulling Nico back into its protective swaddle. Josef stood and turned to see Eli hovering in the doorway.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t help her.”

“You brought her here,” Josef said bitterly. “That was more than I could do.” He met his friend’s eyes. “I’m going to win the war, Eli. No matter what, I’m going to win.”

“I know you are,” Eli said with a grin. “Why do you think I’m still here?”

Josef shook his head. “Come on,” he said, starting for the door. “We’re not done yet.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Eli said, his smile widening at Josef’s murderous look as they jogged down the stairs.

Nara frowned at the gap left in the line of her palace ships, and her scowl only deepened as she turned to the man kneeling at her feet, his forehead pressed against the tile floor of her balcony.

“Well?” she said. “Did you crush those buzzing gnats holding up our assault? I would like to get close enough to launch the war spirits before we lose the entire front to whatever idiocy is going on at the front.”

“The Oserans have retreated, Empress,” the general said, pressing his head harder against the ground. “But we must pull back as well. The tide is going out. Your fleet will be stranded on the rocks if we do not retreat.”

Nara looked away with a sniff. “I do not retreat.”

“But, Empress,” the general’s voice trembled. “We’ve already lost three ships. If we do not retreat now, we could lose the rest of the first wave.”

“General,” Nara said, glaring down. “Do you know who I am?”

“You are the Immortal Empress,” the man said, crouching lower. “Queen of all the world.”

Nara lifted her chin. “And do you think that the queen of the world fears something as trivial as the tide?”

The general swallowed. “No, Empress.”

“You must have faith, General,” Nara said, opening her spirit.

The general shook visibly as the enormous pressure landed on him. “I believe,” he whispered.

The Empress began to smile as she opened her spirit wider. When her power was roaring in her ears, she reached out, plunging herself into the current that was still waiting below her ships. The mob of water spirits screamed and thrashed as she grabbed it, but her will was absolute.

“The fleet moves forward,” she said, her voice thick and resonant with power. “I don’t care how many troops it takes. Beach the ships if you have to. We conquer the island by nightfall.”

“Yes, Empress,” the general said, crawling backward out of her presence all the way to the stairs before standing and running down to the command center to signal her orders to the fleet.

“Well?” Josef said, joining his admiral on the stone walkway above the bay. “How much longer?”

“Not long,” said the admiral, dancing from foot to foot in his anticipation. “Tide’s nearly out. There’s no way they can escape now.”

“Good,” Josef said, nodding to the crowd of gawking sailors and guardsmen crowding the beach. “Get those men onto the cliffs. Once the ships hit the rocks and start taking on water, the crews are going to head for the shore. If they land, it’ll be bad. No one fights harder than men with no retreat. We have to sink their boats before they reach the shore.”

“Yes, sire,” the admiral said. He saluted and started down the stairs, barking orders as he went. Josef stayed put, glancing at Eli as the thief stepped up beside him.

“You’re growing more kingly by the minute.”

“Save it,” Josef grumbled, glaring at the distant shadows of the palace ships. “We’ve bought some time, but if the Council reinforcements don’t get here before the tide comes in again, that’ll be that. I can’t sink the whole fleet by myself. All it’ll take is one of those ships making landfall and we’ll be overrun.”

“If it happens, we’ll deal with it,” Eli said firmly. “You’ve bought us a reprieve for the moment. That’s something to be—”

Eli stopped midsyllable, his face screwing up in a look of surprise.

Josef tensed. “What?” he said. Because Eli looking surprised was never good.

“It’s just—” Eli bit his lip. “I’m no sailor, but isn’t the water supposed to be moving toward the sea when the tide goes out?”

Josef blinked and looked down. Sure enough, the ocean was rushing into the bay, pushing the line of the surf back up the beach.

“Don’t tell me the Empress can even change the tides,” he whispered.

“No,” Eli said. “Look.” He pointed, moving his finger back and forth from the sea to the bay, tracing a faint line of darker, deep running water running in through the Rebuke’s protective cliffs. “It’s a current. She’s pushing against the tide with a current.”

Josef cursed and ran for the stairs. “Admiral!”

The admiral, already halfway down the storm wall on his way to deliver Josef’s orders, looked up. “Yes, sire?”

It would have taken too long to explain, so Josef jumped the short wall onto the stairs and ran down himself, grabbing the admiral’s shoulders and pointing the man at the sea. The admiral struggled a moment, and then his body went slack as a look of pure dread crept over his face.

“Powers help us,” he whispered.

Josef let him go. “What can we do?”

The admiral ran a trembling hand through his thin, gray hair as he watched the ocean swell back up nearly to the storm wall’s base. “She’s pushed us neatly back to high tide,” he said, his voice despairing. “More than enough to get her ships over the reef. After that, it’s a straight shot to us.”

“You think she’ll hit the Rebuke?” Josef said.

“Undoubtedly,” the admiral said. “This is the most strategically valuable spot on this side of the island. It’s also where our fleet is and a clear path to the city itself. She’d be a fool not to take this bay, and I very much doubt the Immortal Empress is a fool.” The old man clenched his teeth. “We can’t let her enter the bay. If they land a ship on us here, we’re done.”

“Can we take the fleet out again?” Josef said. “Sink the ships as they come in?”

The admiral shook his head. “It took you two hours to sink three ships. By the time you cut one down, we’ll be overrun.”

Josef cursed loudly. “So what do we do?”

The admiral licked his lips, but before he could answer, another voice spoke up.

“Abuse your advantages,” Eli said, walking down the stairs to join them.

The admiral frowned, but Josef turned to face the thief. “Go on.”

“This is a nice, deep bay,” Eli said. “But those palace ships are ten times the size of the biggest Council freighter. They’re heavy, loaded for conquest, and running deep. Even with the current lifting them, they’ll have to enter the bay carefully to avoid scraping bottom. But raise that bottom a little, and you make a difficult task impossible.”

Josef stared at him. “How am I supposed to raise the bottom of the sea?”

“Put something on it,” Eli said, glancing pointedly at the ships filling the bay.

The admiral almost turned green. “You can’t mean—”

“Are you suggesting I sink my fleet,” Josef said over him. “My only fleet, to make a wall?”

Eli nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Are you an idiot?” the admiral screamed.

“No,” Eli said, crossing his arms. “But I might start to think you are if you can’t see that your runners are no longer useful.”

“Majesty!” the admiral cried. “You cannot listen to this madness.” He flung out his hand toward the boats. “Those runners are fine, precision-crafted warships. You can’t sacrifice our naval strength on one foolhardy gambit!”

“Actually, I don’t see why not,” Josef said, rubbing his chin. “Eli’s right. Without clingfire, the runners are only good now for drawing fire and dodging between palace ships. Dodging doesn’t win wars. If we can block the bay, we can buy time for the Council to arrive.”

“But, sire,” the admiral said, his voice cracking. “That fleet was your mother’s pride!”

“And my mother would throw it away in a heartbeat if it served her country,” Josef said. “We can’t be sentimental if we’re going to have a hope of surviving.”

The admiral looked like he was about to cry. “If you sink the fleet, we’ll be defenseless against the next naval attack.”

Josef smirked. “Fight the sword at your throat, admiral, not the sword in the sheath. If sinking the fleet gives me the luxury of missing it later, I’ll count that a victory. Man the runners, skeleton crews only, and tell the men to line them up at the mouth of the bay. I want everyone else to get a bow and get to the cliffs. This is now a siege.”

The admiral clutched his head in his hands. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Believe it,” Eli said, giving the old man a gentle push. “Off you go now. We don’t have much time.”

Too shocked to realize he was taking orders from the prince’s layabout friend, the admiral nodded and ran down the stairs, calling orders in a mournful voice.

The sailors of Osera lived up to their reputation. Not fifteen minutes after the plan was hatched, the runners were moving out. Four men crewed each ship, rowing hard against the current until they reached the mouth of the bay. They worked quickly, throwing the wrist-thick docking lines from ship to ship. As one pair of men tied the lines, the other worked the anchor, dragging the chain back and forth across the seabed to catch the rocks. One by one, the boats linked together, forming a floating wall between the bay and the sea. When the ships were all tied in position, by rope to each other and by anchor to the ocean floor below, the sailors kissed the prows good-bye before pulling the bilge plugs. As the sea rushed in, the sailors jumped into the bay and swam for the trawlers waiting to take them to shore.

Josef watched it all from the cliffs where the royal guard and those sailors not tasked with sinking the fleet had positioned themselves with crossbows taken from the watchtower armory. The admiral was there as well, his face pale and drawn.

When the last ship had been scuttled, Josef examined the battlefield. The mouth of the bay was now a spiky wall of sunken ships. Each runner had been scuttled prow first, its iron-tipped nose shoved deep between the craggy rocks of the bay floor with its long body pointing up and its narrow mast stabbed into the water behind it like a brace. Even so, the wall of scrapped boats looked like little more than flotsam before the enormous palace ships.

“Will it work, you think?” the admiral whispered.

“We’ll know soon enough,” Josef said. “Are the archers ready?”

The admiral nodded. “Everyone’s in position. The scuttle crews will get bows and get up to the cliffs as soon as they land.”

“Good,” Josef said. “Because the enemy’s on its way.”

The Empress’s fleet had cleared the reef and was now plowing across the span of deep water that ran parallel to the coast. The front line of ships was already within striking distance of the sea cliffs, but the fleet slowed as it neared the island, turning off the Empress’s current to form a ring around the mouth of the bay. Lights flashed on the decks as the ships signaled to each other, and then one of the palace ships from the circle’s northern end broke off from the group and began slowly moving toward the wall of sunken ships.

“They’ll stop,” the admiral said as the palace ship crept toward the barrier. “They have to stop. They’ll break their hulls and strand themselves if they don’t. No admiral would waste a ship like that.”

“And no woman would give up life as a princess and betray her homeland for the love of a ruler she’s never met,” Josef said bitterly. “Don’t underestimate the Immortal Empress, admiral.” Josef looked up, raising his voice as he grabbed his crossbow from the ledge. “Stations! Here they come!”

The order was scarcely out of his mouth when the enormous palace ship crashed into the sunken remains of the Oseran fleet.

The squeal of wood on wood echoed off the cliffs, followed by the horrible crunch of breaking timbers. At the mouth of the bay, the line of sunken ships was bowing, dragged inward by the momentum of the enormous ship. The water churned as the sunken runners plowed along the seabed, and then, with a great clang of metal on stone, the tangle of anchors and knotted chains reached the end of its slack. The line caught, and the palace ship jerked to a halt.

The bay held its breath as the ship stopped. On its deck, the soldiers were sliding, thrown off their feet by the sudden stop. Some fell hundreds of feet into the water below as the ship tilted with a great groan, its keel well and truly stuck in the wall of the sunken fleet.

A cheer went up from the cliffs and then died out almost as quickly as the prow of the palace ship began to shake. Josef squinted. It was possible the crash had broken something inside, but the soldiers on the deck weren’t running with the sort of panic he’d expect from the crew of a damaged ship. He was still watching their movements for a sign of their plan when the prow of the palace ship fell forward.

The great pointed nose fell like an ancient tree, crashing into the bay with a splash that echoed off the cliffs. It bobbed once in the water before a network of ropes wrenched it tight. Josef bit back a curse. The prow hadn’t broken. It was designed to fall, forming a launch ramp for the troop boats Josef could now see waiting inside the ship’s enormous belly. The second the ramp was steady, the boats began to roll out, pushed by men carrying long wooden shields over their heads, their dark faces set in grim determination as they hauled the boats down the ramp and into the bay.

Three ships were in the water before Josef realized his army was gawking and not firing.

“Shoot!” Josef shouted, arching his neck to look up at the sailors on the cliffs. “Now!”

The men jumped at his voice, and at once a ragged volley launched from the cliffs. The short, black crossbow bolts flew from all directions, falling on the boats like rain. The enemy raised their shields over their heads, but it wasn’t enough. Men fell screaming into the water with bloody splashes as the Oseran arrows struck true, but it did not stop the torrent of boats pouring out of the palace ship.

“Keep firing!” Josef shouted as he reloaded his own bow. “Don’t let up!”

Wave after wave of bolts shot down from the cliffs, covering the enemy ramp in a bristle of wooden quills. The bolts struck hard, hard enough to punch holes in the troop ships that were already in the water. But for every boat the Oserans sank, two more appeared from the palace ship’s maw, sliding down the ramp into the bay whose blue water was now a sickly shade of purple.

“How many of the bastards are in there?” the admiral shouted.

“Too many,” Josef said, tossing his empty quiver down and reaching for another. “But they’re not the real trouble. Look.”

The admiral followed Josef’s gaze past the palace ship’s open nose to its back, and his ashen face turned even grayer.

On the rear deck of the palace ship, ten men stood in a circle around a glowing sphere of iron and stone. The sphere grew brighter by the second, until it hurt Josef’s eyes to look at. When it was as bright as a small sun, the men threw out their hands in unison and the glowing ball launched into the sky. It arced above the bay and started to fall, hurtling toward the watchtower with a high-pitched scream.

“War spirit!” the admiral cried. “Get a team down there!”

“No!” Josef shouted. “Keep firing! The war spirit is covered!”

The admiral stared at him. “Covered how?”

Josef nodded at the storm wall. “Time for that lazy bastard to do his part.”

The admiral turned and nearly dropped his bow. Eli was standing on the storm wall, staring up at the falling war spirit with a calm smile as he unbuttoned his shirt. With each button, black smoke rose to curl around him, flashing with sparks. Overhead, the war spirit was picking up speed, its scream ratcheting up to a deafening wail even Josef could feel in his bones. Just before it crashed into the tower’s tile roof, the fire over Eli’s head exploded and an enormous, glowing hand snatched the war spirit out of the air.

Heat poured over the bay as Karon roared to life. He stepped out of the smoke, his great feet searing the stone of the storm wall. The lava spirit’s glowing face was split in a wide grin as he hefted the war spirit in his hand and, after a windup, threw it back. The war spirit shot out of the lava giant’s hand like an arrow. It flew screaming, leaving a streak of smoke behind as it barreled across the bay and landed with an enormous crash in the palace ship’s hull.

The palace ship rocked under the impact, slamming into the seafloor with so much force Josef felt it through his boots. The Empress’s soldiers screamed as their ramp tipped into the water, capsizing the launching ships and toppling their passengers into the bay. Up on the cliffs, an enormous cheer went up from the Oserans. Down on the wall, Eli held his arms up in answer.

“Stop cheering and keep firing!” Josef shouted. “We’re still under attack and you’re only puffing up his head!”

The men scrambled to obey, sending another rain of arrows down on the invading ships. The wizards on the palace ship were running madly now, too busy patching the hole from the returned war spirit to launch another. Meanwhile, the flow of soldiers from the open nose of the palace ships slowed to a trickle as the crews retreated to help deal with the damage. This left those already in the water unguarded as the Oseran arrows rained down like black hail, and for a moment, Josef almost believed they’d stopped the charge.

“Sire!” a voice shouted, shattering the illusion. “South!”

Josef turned just in time to see a second palace ship crash into the wall of the sunken fleet at the bay’s southern tip. The crack of wood drowned out every other sound as the boat ground forward. This ship was going much faster than the first, cleaving into the bay in an attempt to break the barrier. But for all its power, the stubborn tangle of anchors held, and the enormous ship slammed to a stop, sending soldiers skidding off her decks.

Josef gave a triumphant shout. But even as cheers began to ring from the cliffs, the second ship’s prow fell, and a fresh surge of soldiers poured into the bay.

“Don’t stop!” Josef roared, firing his crossbow at the new boats. “Keep firing! Don’t let them reach the shore!”

The sailors on the cliffs answered him with a rain of arrows. The bolts whistled as they flew. Some hit nothing but water, others landed in the heavy shields the enemy took shelter beneath as they pushed the line. A few lucky shots struck true, sending soldiers toppling out of boats. But with so many firing from the cliffs, those few lucky shots had been enough. Just barely. But now, as the second palace ship began disgorging its troops in earnest, the Oserans started to fall behind.

“Keep firing!” Josef shouted again, grabbing another quiver of bolts. “Focus on the ones in the water!”

He had just launched another bolt when he heard a crash above him, and Josef looked up to see Eli’s lava spirit grabbing the edge of the cliff. Karon’s glowing hands cut easily through the stone, carving out an enormous boulder. Down on the storm wall, Eli was shouting words Josef couldn’t hear, pointing at the new palace ship. Karon nodded and hefted the boulder in his hand. He closed his fingers, firing the stone to a red-hot ember before launching it at the second ship.

The boulder struck true, hitting the palace ship’s enormous tower of a mast. Josef covered his ears against the crack of shattering wood as the mast snapped and fell, its top plummeting into the deck below. This, plus the impact of the stone itself, was enough to crack the ship’s keel against the seabed. The palace ship broke with a scream of wood, and then the air was filled with a rushing roar as the water began to gush in.

Josef screamed in triumph, raising his arm to Eli, who bowed in return, a huge grin on his face. Karon was grinning too as he reached out to cut another boulder from the cliff.

Nara clutched the railing of her balcony, glaring furiously at the enormous, glowing giant sinking her ships. Even at this distance, there was no mistaking the lava spirit for anything other than what it was, and that raised a new problem. No mere wizard could command the fire that ran through the heart of the world. The Oserans had a star fighting for them.

She clenched her teeth. What star would dare oppose her? She was no longer the favorite, but she close enough that it shouldn’t matter. Even forgetting that, how could there be a star here when Benehime herself had ordered this island burned to the ground?

Nara paused, thinking quickly. Perhaps the Shepherdess didn’t know? For all her power, she wasn’t omnipotent. Maybe she wasn’t aware that one of her stars had turned rogue? It wouldn’t be the first. The Lady had been forced to put down the Great Bear not long before this. If a star was interfering with the invasion, the wise thing to do would be to call the Shepherdess and get her blessing before continuing, but Nara hesitated.

The Lady loved her as a conqueror, an Empress. An Empress ruled with absolute authority. An Empress rolled over everything in her path. An Empress did not run crying to the Shepherdess whenever trouble appeared. Nara pursed her lips. Until the Lady told her differently, the order to burn Osera stood. Whoever this star was, they would soon learn what it meant to challenge the soon to be recrowned favorite.

Smile returning, Nara opened her spirit again and sank down into the sea. This time, she ignored the great current, grabbing a smaller one instead. The current cried and begged, but it obeyed like all the others in the end. As it fled to do her bidding, Nara sat back on her couch to see what the star would do.

Josef didn’t notice the admiral’s absence until the old man returned, his face grim.

“Sire!” he yelled over the roar of snapping bows. “We’re running out of bolts!”

“Can’t be,” Josef said, launching the last bolt from his quiver. “Finley had six months’ worth laid up.”

“Six months of normal fire,” the admiral said. “Not for this.”

Josef turned and looked, his heart falling. He hadn’t had time to notice in the heat of battle, but the crate he and the other men on this part of the cliff had been using was empty. So was the crate it sat on.

“They’re on the last box on the south side as well,” the admiral said. “A runner just came asking for more. I had to turn him away.”

“So there’s nothing left?”

The admiral shook his head. “We emptied the tower armory as you commanded. Every last bolt was here.”

Josef cursed and looked down at the bay. He could hear it happening already. The whistling roar of the bolts was shrinking, the light on the bay brightening as the rain of arrows began to dissipate.

“Send runners to the other cliff,” he said, tossing his now-useless crossbow on the ground. “Tell the men to finish the bolts they have and get down to the wall.”

“What can we do on the wall?” the admiral said. “We’ve a hundred royal guard left, but the rest of these men are sailors, not infantry.”

“Then it’s time to switch vocations,” Josef said. “We’ve five hundred men here. That many of the enemy are lying facedown in the water already, and we haven’t even made a dent in their numbers. But we’ve still got terrain on our side. If Eli’s message got through, the Council fleet should be on its way right now. All we have to do is hold a little longer.”

“If we go down there we’ll be slaughtered!” the admiral shouted.

“We’ll be slaughtered anyway!” Josef shouted back. “If you want roll over for it, be my guest, but I mean to die as an Oseran should: fighting.”

And with that, he left the admiral gaping and stomped down to the storm wall.

Eli was waiting for him at the base of the cliff, though he didn’t look as smug as Josef had expected. He was smiling, but his face was pale and his eyes were dark with exhaustion.

“You all right?” Josef said as the thief fell in beside him.

“Fantastic,” Eli said.

Josef didn’t buy it. “You look like you’ve been running for three days straight. If you can’t keep it up, say something. I’d rather fight without a lava spirit than have it go out on me at a bad time.”

“I can keep this up as long I have to,” Eli said firmly, glancing up at the lava giant as it stepped aside to make room on the storm wall for the gathering troops. “It’s just that there’s not much for Karon to burn for energy here, so I’m having to feed him some of my own.” He laughed. “It’s disgustingly Spiritualist-like, actually. My only comfort is that Miranda isn’t here to see it.”

“Just don’t push yourself,” Josef said. “I can’t have you and Nico down at the same time.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Eli said, his voice suddenly serious. “Think of this as my chance to pay a little back for all the blood you’ve spilled for me.”

“I don’t reckon debts in blood,” Josef said, reaching out to grab Eli’s shoulder. “Watch yourself, thief.”

“You too, king,” Eli said, breaking off from Josef with a salute.

Josef shook his head and jogged over to join the soldiers.

The Oserans crowded the storm wall. The royal guardsmen were already in formation by the stair, but the rest of the men stood in loose knots, some still clutching their empty crossbows. They parted to make a path for Josef as he climbed onto the storm wall’s lip and turned to face his army, such as it was.

“Listen up!” Josef shouted. “I’m not going to waste time with kingly speeches. All I’ll say is this. We did our best to hold the enemy back, but it was never more than a dyke against the flood. Now we’re up to our necks, and the only chance we have to stop the Empress from crushing this island and our lives under her feet is the stone under ours.” He stomped hard on the storm wall. “We are not dead yet. Reinforcements are coming from the mainland even as I speak. Our job now is to buy those slow Council bastards time enough to get here. Fortunately, Osera herself is on our side. We’ve got a choke hold.” He pointed at the narrow stair leading up from the beach. “We’ve got the sun at our backs, and we’re forcing them to fight uphill. These are our weapons, and with them, we are going to hold this wall.”

But even as he pointed out their terrain advantage, many of the men still looked doubtful. Some even looked like they were about to cry. Josef took a deep breath. The storm wall might be strong, but the men were a brittle barrier, easily broken. He was going to need them to be stronger if this was going to work, and so, with nothing left to lose and Eli too far away to hear him, Josef decided to throw it all in.

“Men of Osera!” he shouted, doing his best to infuse his voice with the deep, proud sincerity he remembered from his mother’s speeches. “I’ve been a horrible prince to you my entire life, but though I might be your king for only another few minutes, I mean to make them count. As a swordsman, I learned that the two most dangerous enemies are the desperate man and the man defending his home. Right now, we are both. We are the worst enemy the Empress has ever met. We will hold this wall and make her remember the cost of fighting Osera!”

The cry that came when he finished made Josef jump. The men screamed with a fury he could feel to his bones, raising their blades as they did. Josef raised his sword in answer and shouted for them to get in position. The men scrambled to obey, the sailors lining up on the storm wall while the guard fell in around Josef at the top of the stair. The royal guard saluted their king as he passed, following Josef as he climbed down the stair until he was halfway between the beach and the top of storm wall. Here Josef stopped, planting his sword as the guard fell into formation behind him.

Down below, the first boats had made it to the shore. The enemy jumped into the surf with a blood-curdling scream, surging up the beach like a black tide. They hit the storm wall and began crowding into the bottleneck of the narrow stair. When the first enemies came in range, Josef stepped forward, swinging the Heart with a shout. Behind him, the Oserans answered with a scream that shook the stones of the storm wall itself.

“Eli,” Karon rumbled, pressing his hand to the ground. “The rock says there are ships coming across the channel from the mainland.”

“Please tell me it’s the Council,” Eli moaned.

“Sad showing if it is,” Karon said. “Only two boats.”

“I’d take a rowboat and a mule at this point,” Eli said. “Meanwhile, you ready to give our swordsman some cover?”

“Sure,” Karon said, grinning as he grabbed another boulder from the cliff. “Where do you want this one?”

“I’m thinking middle of the bay,” Eli said, his voice breathy. Karon was pulling hard on him now. “Make some waves. See if we can’t capsize a few boats.”

“Easy enough,” Karon said, firing the stone in his fist until it was red hot. But as he reached back to throw, a crash made them both jump.

Eli spun around, eyes wide as a spout of water erupted from the sea. It thrust from the bay like a spear, shooting up the storm wall straight at Karon. Eli threw out his hands, but the water was too fast, and he, exhausted, was too slow. The geyser of water hit his lava spirit full in the chest. Some of it hit Eli as well, and he gasped as the icy-cold shock took his breath away. This was no mere ocean water; it was a deep-sea current flowing full force, thrown up from the sea.

Karon fell as the water drenched him, screaming as his light went out. The ground trembled when he landed, and the impact threw Eli off his feet. He landed on the sandy ground by the road, tumbling hard. But before he was done falling, he was scrambling to his feet. Beside him, Karon’s body was no longer glowing, but a black heap of steaming rubble. Eli rushed forward with a curse, plunging his hands into the hissing stone. It burned as he touched it, but not nearly as much as it should have. Cursing louder, Eli dug down, stabbing his spirit through the cooling rock as he dug toward Karon’s molten core.

He caught it just in time. Eli tugged his hands out of the stone and pressed the lava spirit’s flickering heart to his own chest. His skin burned when Karon touched it, but Eli had never welcomed the pain so much. He clenched his teeth and pushed harder, forcing the lava’s heart into his own. Karon went without a sound, and, for a long moment, Eli knew he’d lost him. Then the lava’s heat flashed as Karon’s pulse merged with Eli’s, and the burning heart began to beat.

Eli fell to the soaked ground, panting and clutching his burning chest. “Karon,” he whispered. “Say something.”

The silence stretched on.

“Please,” Eli pleaded. “Please say something.”

But the lava spirit didn’t answer. Eli could feel Karon’s heat in his chest, but it was so small, so fragile. Before he could panic further, Eli forced himself to stand. He teetered toward the watchtower, desperately searching for somewhere to collapse. If Karon was going to survive, he needed all of Eli’s strength, which meant Eli couldn’t have any of it for a while.

“Hang on,” he whispered, pushing open the watchtower door. “I promised I wouldn’t leave you, but that cuts both ways, you know? Don’t go out on me now.”

His only answer was silence as he pulled himself up the watchtower stairs.

Meanwhile, halfway down the storm wall, Josef met the first of the Empress’s soldiers with a clash that echoed across the bay.