CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Any sacrifice is worth saving this kingdom.
—Hidden Correspondence from Bayne to Khato. 37thof Summer, 071.3E.
Vienah’s wet hair hung in matted ripples ahead of me as we marched down the gangplank and onto the icy shores of the Death Dunes. My chest had been sliced, blood seeping through the front of my shirt, but I had no idea when or how that had happened.
A small group stood in the snow, hands bound to the long line of rope connecting them. Ronan, bloodied and bruised, hung his head. Nerissa held him upright, eyes tight with worry as she found mine across the snow.
Carina was there, cuffed and frightened. Kresida stood in the center, covered in blood, but it was hard to tell whose it was from. I scanned the group. The captain…and six more from theCenturion. No sign of the elven mages.
Lord Astraeus and the captain of theKrakenstood at the front of the group. I glanced behind me, searching for Vulcan.
The captain of theKrakenturned his scarred face to me as we stepped into the icy snow. The pirate lord was an older man, maybe twenty years Astraeus’s senior, and wore a jet-black coat. Its hem was lined with rows of small finger bones. He grinned at me, and a silver tooth shone in the afternoon sun that managed to cut through the clouds. The Marisarma mages stood at the edge of the two ships, extending their shields onto shore. The warm air melted the upper layer of snow, creating a cold, wet slush.
Lord Astraeus pointed his curved blade toward me and inclined his head. Movement from Ronan caught my eye, and he glanced at me through the blood that streaked across his face.
“You are all alive because of this woman,” Astraeus called to the group, jabbing his curved blade in my direction.
The line of prisoners slid their eyes to where I stood at the end of the chain.
“For how much longer,” he continued, surveying the small group, “that remains to be seen.”
“We’re here for one thing,” the captain of theKrakencut in with a craggy voice, as he stalked along the line of prisoners, angling his head at me. He slowed as he approached. “A bone of power. That whore of a queen,Antares, sorely underestimated the power and influence of the Lords of Marisarma when she sent you sailing so close to the Crimson Sea.”
TheKraken’scaptain approached me and smirked as he grabbed my chin with his thumb and forefinger. I bristled, as smoke and old ale wafted off his lips. He held firm, pinching the small amount of skin.
“Find the bone. The rest of you may go free.”
I jerked my chin away and spat in his face. A growl escaped his lips, and I braced myself as his fist slammed into my stomach. Once. Twice. Three times. I doubled over, forcing down the cry and sea water that threatened to escape.
He stood and stalked back to the front of the line, where the elven captain of theCenturionstood, a look of disdain and disgust written across his proud face.
The captain of theCenturionstraightened as the pirate approached and said, “You make no such commands of my?—”
TheKraken’spirate lord plunged his blade through the elf’s chest as screams echoed down the line of prisoners. He ripped his curved blade free, and the snow below his feet quickly turned to a pool of crimson slush.
Carina wept as the captain of theCenturionchoked out a gasp and shuddered as he lay dying at the end of the line.
“A captain should always go down with his ship,” the Lord of Marisarma murmured as he shook the blood from his blade. He turned his attention back to me at the end of the line.
“Refuse,” he said, raising his eyebrows, “and I can do this all day, sweetheart.”
He moved down the line, pointing his blade at the various prisoners. I kept still, willing myself to make no reaction, though bile rose in my throat. I was here before, only months ago. The brightness of the surrounding snow suddenly mirrored the shimmering walls of the great hall in the Crystal Castle, and I was back there, with my father broken and bleeding on its floor as the dark king tried to force me to use my powers….
A gasp from Vienah pulled me back to the snowy shore, and I jerked my gaze to theHydrawhere two men hauled Vulcan down the gangplank and shoved him into the slush. His body slid, leaving a bloody trail.
My stomach pitched as he moaned, struggling to stand. He turned his face to the side, and I gasped.
Bloody strips of ravaged skin hung where the twining vines of inked black ferns once were. Vulcan’s arms shook as he pushed against the ground, and one of the men kicked him down.
“I’ll do it,” I breathed, as I watched the warrior who’d always seemed so indestructible be beaten bloody in the snow.
TheKraken’scaptain stalked to me, and he slid a greedy gaze down my torn leathers, still cold and dripping from the trip through the frigid waters. His tongue slipped over cracked lips.
“You’ll do that and more, I reckon.”
My stomach twisted as his eyes darkened. He sucked on the silver tooth shining from beneath his lips as a dagger ripped through the front of his neck.
