Dayton
Our skiff cuts through the turquoise water, white sails filled with wind. I shift the rudder at the stern and peer into the horizon.
There’s something ahead, too far to make out.
“Grab the tiller,” I tell Wrenley. She takes my place without complaint.
I stand and walk carefully to the bow. The fishing skiff Claudius lent us is small, barely big enough for two, but it’s quick
and can handle the open sea without too much fuss.
I hold onto a rope and lean forward. The salty air whips my hair back. It’s been decades since I’ve been upon the ocean like
this. No land in sight, only the sky and sea before me. Though my magic has long been empty, my heart stirs. Just as Kel is most
at home in a frosty wasteland, this is where I belong. Salt on my tongue and a whole horizon to tame.
“What do you see?” Wrenley calls from behind me.
“Nothing yet.”
“There’s a spyglass down by the lamp.”
I rifle through the junk Claudius left in the skiff: three fishing harpoons, a net, a jug of oil, a lamp for late-night expeditions,
and a packet of matches. Finally, I grab the spyglass and hold it up to my eye.
“Stars be damned,” I whisper.
“What is it?”
“I think ... I think it’s the First Sands.”
“The what?”
“The First Sands,” I say louder, so my voice carries over the wind and she can hear me properly. Every Summer child
knows about the Arena of the First Sands. It was Summer’s first colosseum, not a structure of rock and dirt like the one in
Hadria, but a giant floating barge. It was built so both the land people of Hadria and the sea people of Aerantheis could
celebrate together.
That was centuries upon centuries ago, a relic long thought shipwrecked or lost. Mentions of it disappeared from recent
history, the same time as the people of Aerantheis did. Wrenley releases the tiller, walks up beside me, and gestures for the spyglass. I take another long look before I give it up.
The barge is circular in shape, with massive arches and columns complete with Summer’s intricate carvings. Everything has
been reinforced with metal: steel plates cover the hull and bars crisscross between the pillars. This kind of metalwork has only
been seen in ...
“Spring’s taken it over,” I snarl, handing the spyglass to Wrenley. “It looks like a damned prison.”
“If that’s true, we have to be careful,” she says. “Kairyn’s forces could be all around us right now.” The boom of a cannon
echoes across the waves, and I snatch the spyglass straight from Wrenley’s hands. Then I see it, east of the barge. A wooden
schooner, white sails filled with wind, streaking away. A black flag snaps back and forth painted with a horse’s skull over
crossed bones. Though I’ve never seen the flag before, the ship I recognize instantly. How could I not?
“That’s The Trident’s Glory,” I say. “The fastest ship in Summer’s navy.” Though, the name has been scrawled out. I close
my left eye to get better focus with my right while looking in the spyglass. Yes, there’s paint smeared over the name. I can
barely make out the new letters: THE DEATHLY SKY DANCER.
“Who the fuck renamed it?” I growl.
But my heart is beating too fast to concentrate on the desecration of such a fine ship. I adjust the spyglass, focusing on the
helm. A smile breaks across my face. There she is, shouting orders and holding tight to the wheel as if she were some grizzled
old sailor. My baby sister, Delphia.
“Oh no!” Wrenley cries, grabbing my arm. “Look there!”
A second schooner emerges from behind the barge, twice the size of my sister’s ship. A large cannon at the forecastle oozes
with smoke. Thankfully, they weren’t close enough to hit The Trident’s Glory. But they’re gaining fast. I set my gaze upon the
helm of the enemy schooner. I’ve spent these last three months trying to be as numb as I possibly could, not wanting to feel the
loss of Rosie, the hopelessness for my brothers, or the guilt of not being what Wrenley needs. But all of that numbness fades
away as I set my sights on Kairyn.
He’s bent over the railing leading up to the helm, shoulders shaking. His cape looks soaking wet, and water drips from under
his helmet over his black chest plate. A soldier walks up to him with a blanket, and he shoves the man away.
That bastard took Rosalina. He mutilated Ezryn. He betrayed us all. Now, he’s coming after my sister.
Not if I get to her first.
My teeth grind together so hard, I’m surprised they don’t crack. I throw the spyglass to the ground and look at Wrenley. “We
have to get those bastards away from my sister’s ship! Let’s get this boat moving. Hard to lee! Full to the wind!” Wrenley blinks her giant blue eyes at me. “What?”
“Hard to lee—don’t you know? Your father was a fisherman, for stars’sake!” Anger cuts through my words as I rush to the
stern to do it myself.
“Doesn’t mean he paid any attention to me,” she snaps.
“Just make sure the ropes don’t get caught. We need to catch The Trident’s Glory.”
“I thought you said it was the fastest ship in Summer?”
I flash her a grin. “The fastest ship is whichever one I’m sailing.” With the wind at our back, our skiff takes off across the sea heading straight between Kairyn’s platoon and my sister’s ship.
“What’s the plan here, Day?” Wrenley screams, bracing herself against the edge as our skiff crashes through the waves.
“That’s a big ship and we’re just ... we’re just us.”
I rush forward to adjust the ropes and hover right over her. I hold her gaze and smile. “Exactly. We’re us. That’s all we
need.”
A blush rises on her cheeks, and she looks away.
As we get closer, voices ring out over the waves. “Secure the hatches! Enemy fire incoming!” my sister cries. Her voice is
so young, still in adolescence. Leave it to Delphia to have a whole ship at her command while also still sleeping with a stuffed
doll.
Another voice rings out louder. Kairyn has stalked to the bow of the ship and points a leather finger toward my sister. “Send
that piece of junk to the bottom of the sea!”
“You’ve got the boat, Wren!” I snatch the fishing harpoon and tie its line to the sturdy cleat on the front of the ship. Then I
hold the wooden shaft of the harpoon in my right hand and brace a leg on the railing. “Get us right in front of that ugly ship.”
“Right in front of the cannon?” Wrenley screams. Quickly, she puts her hood over her face, covering herself from view.
“Exactly.”
Our skiff shoots before the giant boat. I stare up at the forward cannon, arching my arm backward.
“Go left, left, left,” I direct. “There!”
I throw the harpoon and it sails through the air, the barbed tip catching the rim of the cannon’s carriage. I grab its line and
take a deep breath. There’s no magic left in my body, but I’ve never preferred spells when brute strength would do. I bounce
the line in my hand, feeling the weight and tension. Then, with all the strength left within me, I pull.
“Keep it moving!” I roar to Wrenley.
The cannon creaks: the harpoon’s barbs are unmovable, latched tightly onto the ridges. I brace my feet against the gunwale of
the skiff and throw everything I have, everything I am, into towing the line. It cuts into my palms and red blood oozes out, but I
don’t give a damn.
Kairyn’s finally going to learn that no one fucks with my family.
The armored bastard himself runs over, watching as his cannon screeches across the wooden deck, pulled by the force of our
skiff. “Someone get this harpoon of !”
One of Kairyn’s men runs up to him. “Shall I give the order to attack that skiff?”
Kairyn stares down at me. I hold his dark, void gaze, muscles trembling. We look at each other for a heartbeat, then two, and
then I hear him repeat: “Get this harpoon off!”
The Trident’s Glory is still ahead, but I need to make sure there’s enough of a gap for her to escape. My arms struggle
against the rope. “Take the skiff round her port side!” Wrenley does what I say, clumsily adjusting the tiller. The wind tugs our sails, and our skiff banks to the left, tracing a
dangerous arc around the imposing hull of the ship.
The harpoon line snaps taut, and I let out a bellow to hold it as it drags the cannon across the schooner’s deck. Shouts ring
out as Kairyn’s men attempt to hold down the cannon, but our skiff is too fast, the cannon has gained too much momentum. As
we swing the line full-way around, the cannon turns completely, barrel now facing the helm.
“The cannon’s incapacitated! What’s next, Day?” Wrenley yells.
I let the line go and stare down at my shredded hands. “I’m going to kill the High Prince of Spring.”
She reaches for me, but I shirk away. “It’s too dangerous!”
I grab the second harpoon. “For him.”
“Forget the cannon!” Kairyn’s screaming at his men. He storms back and forth across the deck. “Catch the princess and bring
back my prisoner!”
“The idiot!” Wrenley cries. “The damned fool!”
“I couldn’t agree more. Now, get to the tiller.”
I stand with my second harpoon perched over my shoulder, and line up my target. Kairyn doesn’t even notice me; he’s too
busy screaming at his men. He’s covered completely in Spring steel, armor so hard that the barbed tip of this harpoon would be
like hitting it with a toothpick. But I’ve spent decades passing time sparring with the previous High Prince of Spring. I know
exactly where every slat in the armor is, how there’s a gap right between the helm and the collarbone.
I hold up my left hand to help me aim. The harpoon’s tip shimmers in the light. My mind reels with the strength of the throw,
the angle with the wind.
Then I have it. The tip lines up right where I need it to. “This is for Ez,” I whisper. I draw my hand back and release—
“Ahh!” Wrenley cries, falling against me. The harpoon goes wide, snagging into the wooden deck right at Kairyn’s feet. He
looks down at it and then up at me, fists clenching.
“Stars damn it, Wrenley!” I roar. “I fucking had him!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She shrinks under my gaze. “My foot got caught in the rope. I was just trying to follow your orders.”
There’s no time to waste dwelling on it. All I have is one harpoon left and an entire ship to take down. But I’ve never been
one to be discouraged. One harpoon took out their cannon—
Their cannon with the breech wide open, the barrel packed with gunpowder.
I look down at the rest of the supplies Claudius left in here.
“When I say so, Wren, we need to get out of here. Not a minute after I say so, not a second after. Right away. You hear me?”
“What are you planning?”
“We need to be quick. Quicker than our skiff can go.” I grab her face with my hands, smearing bloody marks on her cheeks.
She stares up at me as if the world is in my eyes. “Remember the fountain in Florendel? How you controlled the water?”
“Yes.” She places her hands over mine.
“I need you to do it again. We need a current under this skiff. Get us straight in the wind then you concentrate on the water
below us. Can you do it?”
“For you, anything,” she whispers.
“Great.” I drop my hands. I need to be quick. It’s a wonder Kairyn hasn’t asked his troops to kill us already. With all the
Queen’s Army deserters he has, we’d be like fish to their trained spears.
I tear my shirt off and wrap it around the tip of the harpoon, before dousing it in oil from the canteen. Then I grab a match.
“Ready, Wren?”
“I think so.”
“You can feel the water?”
“I don’t know.”
I stare down at her, holding her ocean-blue gaze. “I can’t do it with you this time, but you know me now. You know what it
feels like. I believe in you.”
She takes a deep breath and nods. There’s such a determination in her expression, a fierceness I can’t help but admire.
“All right, then—” I light the match, igniting the harpoon. “Now!” Wrenley pulls the ropes, filling our sails with wind. At the same time, the water rushes up beneath our boat, speeding us
away.
I stare at the barrel of the cannon on the enemy ship. Take a breath. Throw.
The fiery harpoon arcs through the air before cresting straight into the barrel.
A thunderous explosion erupts, echoing across the seas. Flames engulf the schooner, dancing wildly along the timber. The
heat of the blast throws me back, and I slam hard against the deck of our skiff. Wrenley cries out, clambering over me to the bow. “What did you do?”
My ears ring but I’m able to sit up and crawl over to her side. The hull of Kairyn’s ship is torn wide open, now a mess of
smoke and sea spray. The stern of the ship still bobs in the air.
My fists clench together. Kairyn’s being helped to his feet upon the helm by two soldiers. The monster lives. Wrenley breathes a sigh. “You’re okay.”
I look down at my torn-up hands. “Nothing I can’t handle.” Shakily, I stand then help her up. “That’ll slow them down. Come
on, let’s get to my sister.”
I take the tiller, and with Wrenley assisting the current, we slide up alongside The Trident’s Glory ... or rather, The Deathly
Sky Dancer, as it is now named.
“I’ll be damned,” someone calls from over the deck, a voice too high-pitched for such crass language.
And there she is, scowling down at me in the way only a sister can.
“What can I say, Delphie Girl? I like to make an entrance.” I beam up at her.
Delphia rolls her eyes but she’s smiling, too. She looks behind her at her crew. “Lower the ropes!”
I abandon our skiff—with a promise to make it up to Claudius—and begin climbing the rope. I’m going to squeeze my sister
so tight, then yell at her until my lungs give out. What in the seven realms could be so damned important on that barge that
Delphia would risk her own life and that of her crew?
I leap over the side of the boat and scan the deck for Delphie.
But I see someone else first.
She glides toward me with such grace, it has to be a figment of my imagination. But this must be real—no other sight could
cause my heart to beat so wildly.
I see Rosalina.