“Wh—”
The door slams open, wafting Val’s unmistakable scent—magic and salt—across the room.
“If we’re having these kinds of discussions, don’t you think we should wait until everyone is here?” The Captain’s curt words shut down the conversation. “While you’ve all been cosying up together, some of us have been working on getting us to Sanctum.”
Nilsa bolts upright. “The fleet?”
Val’s silence speaks volumes.
“No,” she whispers.
She’s out of the bed before I even realise what’s happening. Even Cas is frozen in shock as her footsteps dash across the room.
“Let her go,” I mutter as they all start to move at once. “She can’t do anything.”
“She’s got a broom,” Cas growls, voice already fainter as he dashes after her.
Shit.
I didn’t see that.
The squeak of the window hinges is all the indication I have that someone has dived out of the ship before salty sea air invades the room.
“Kier’s gone after her,” Val says. “No doubt, your brother has too.”
So it’s just the two of us now. I grimace. “I hate being stuck behind.”
“How awful it must be.” The sarcasm in his tone is cutting. “Come on deck. It helps.”
I don’t see how it will, but I follow him anyway. Once we’re outside, I finally smell it.
“Smoke.”
“Yes. Sanctum has fallen.”
“She’s going to be devastated.”
“I know...”
Chapter Seven
Nilsa
The once beautiful statue of the three headed Goddess is charred and crumbled. The smooth stone toppled into the water in great hunks, smashing the boats below. The Lunar head, with its crown of stars, has fallen entirely, taking with it a huge chunk of the terrace below.
Screams of the dying fill the air.
We’re too late.
Even if we weren’t… The destruction is so bad that it makes what I did at the Claw seem like controlled demolition.
The delicate arching architecture has been smashed. The houses with their colourful drapes are still burning. The scorched, blackened remains of transmutation circles graffiti the side of the cliffs.
This wasn’t an attack, it was slaughter.
They’ve attacked the homes. The temple. The places where Solars and children would have taken shelter.
Worse are the neat rows of shrouded corpses laid out on the clear pieces of ground.
