“What is it?”
Reapers, north of us, excited about the bodies thrown overboard. This way.
He pulls me back underwater and we’re off, flying through the ocean. The broad tip of his tentacle lies flat over the cut on my stomach, keeping it covered.
“They aren’t headed for the Tower?”
No. Theirenchantment wall.
“What?” I hug Hafgúa’s tentacle tight as my familiar soars.
The last thing I expected the War-Father to do was retreat. But then, he’ll know the other ships went dark. Eight Hellions, possibly more if the witches sank them before I arrived.
It’s the worst loss I’m aware of in decades, and I’m part of the reason why. When I think of it that way, perhaps it’s surprising he stayed long enough to destroy Aveinor at all.
“Can you go faster?” I beg.
Hafgúa doesn’t answer, except to lengthen his body and shoot forward. My familiar drags me through the ocean, and it blurs around me, nothing but deep blue and the occasional fish gone so fast I can’t identify it.
We cover so much ground I could not begin to place us on a map.
“Look!” I shout. Ahead of us, at the ocean’s roof, I can see the hulls of three massive Hellions. We’ve finally caught up. Hafgúa rams himself forward, but the ships dissolve into mist, vanishing before my very eyes. The kraken swims faster, but as one minute turns into ten the ships don’t reappear.
Perhaps we should stop, little knight.
“We must be gaining on them.”
I think we are not.
“But wehaveto catch them. I have—”
They’re behind their barrier. We’re not getting anywhere.
I clench my teeth tight. Unlike when Sava tracked Roiven through the enchantment, there’s nobody on the other side to pull us through. If the War-Father really managed to retreat after destroying Aveinor, Hafgúa and I have no way to get through.
No witch can.
“So that’s it?” I rasp. “He’s gone. He wins?”
Wins?Hafgúa thinks dryly, as his tentacles float out around us and the kraken slows to a stop.We have chased him from our Wild Seas, little knight.
“But they’re stilloutthere.”
Yes. And they’ll be back,Hafgúa says calmly.And we will be waiting.
I swallow the urge to scream in fury.
“Let’s go home,” I growl instead. I need to see how Roiven’s doing.
The kraken turns and begins to slide back through the water, towards home. Evening is falling when he lifts me from the water abruptly. I push back my wet hair and stare into the red sky as the silhouette of a dragon approaches us. Hafgúa unfurls his tentacle beneath him until I’m standing on it, like it’s a rock emerging from the sea. It’s the red dragon. She’s covered in even more spikes than Sava, and her tail is stubbier and clubbed at the end.
Relief fills me. Not mine, at first. Roiven’s, wrapping around me like a blanket over my shoulders. But that means he’s here, and now the emotion is my own, too.
The red skims low over the water, banking towards us. Avreen, the dragon’s bonded, sits at the base of its neck. And Roiven stands beside where the wing and shoulder meet, holding onto one of the dragon’s many spikes.
I duck as the dragon passes right overhead of me, and Roiven leaps down, landing on Hafgúa’s tentacle with a wince. I reach out to steady him. My hands grab him by the forearms, feeling his warmth and his strength.
His eyes burn again, a deep, warm gold.
