Page 5 of Cursebreaker

Titus knows I’ll come for her. He knows I won’t abandon my youngest sibling—knows I’ll trade my life for hers without hesitation.

I twist, slicing a smooth arc across the sliver of exposed skin at the knight’s throat. Blood sprays my face as the knight falls to his knees, and power hums in my chest, my hands.

Again, a quiet voice whispers. And then, louder, More.

Three Bloodknights encircle me, and my hands tremble but not from fear. I shake my shoulders, grit my teeth, and send a silent prayer to the Stars for forgiveness.

The Bloodknights attack in tandem, and I match them strike for strike. Their weapons are heavier than mine—my shoulders cry out in agony with every deflected blow—but so is their armor, impeding their movements. Still, it’s three against one, meaning I must work twice as hard just to keep from losing a limb—or my head.

Quickly, little mouse, I imagine Owen would say if he were here, laughing as he always did when we were up against impossible odds. You don’t have to be the strongest, but you must always be the fastest.

I might never be strong enough, or fast enough, or even skilled enough to defeat my foes in battle. But by threatening Elsie, Titus has ensured that I am angry enough. And a part of me believes that the Titus who truly knows me, through and through, is still somewhere inside him, fighting. And as rage clouds my vision, I don’t resist it. I surrender to the fury that compels me, guiding my hand with some divine wrath. Again, the voice cries as I evade the Bloodknights’ attacks. More, it commands with every punishing arc of my blade.

Another splash of blood. More.

Another thud as a body drops to the deck, dead at my feet. Again.

Metal coats my tongue, spurring me on, and in the crimson sheen of a Bloodknight’s helmet, the gilded light of my irises blaze with holy light.

More. Again. More. Again.

I kick, and a Bloodknight’s body slides from my blade, convulsing as blood gushes from his open throat onto the deck.

For a moment, the voice relents, and the only sound I hear is my own breath, the pressure in my head almost unbearable as I squint through the fog.

Nearby, Charlie and Margaret fight back-to-back, swords drawn, their every movement in sync. Above, Jack aims a rifle at the Bloodknights as they continue to pour onto our ship, sending down bullets from the crow’s nest, and I catch only a glimpse of Lewis cutting across the deck, illuminated in flashes of orange light as Henry hurls orbs of fire at the oncoming soldiers.

BOOM.

The Starchaser trembles but not from impact. A cannonball rips through the Mythslayer’s hull, and I know Eliza has made her way to our cannons.

I can’t be sure if my crew knows Titus now holds Elsie captive, but I must assume that since my siblings haven’t charged the Mythslayer—since Eliza is actively trying to sink the enemy ship—that I must be the only one to have seen our little sister. I start forward, toward where I know Titus waits, when I’m knocked sideways, tackled by a Bloodknight.

The force of the fall sends my cutlasses flying, and I barely have a moment to process what’s happened before a bloodred gauntlet collides with my cheek.

Again. And again.

The earlier wound from the blade splits wide open. My face goes numb, absorbing the barrage of blows, my vision spinning.

And I laugh.

The sound, choked from the blood filling my mouth, must shock the Bloodknight as much as it surprises me, and I use their hesitation to my advantage. Think, Father used to tell me when my siblings and I would wrestle aboard the Lightbringer, practicing hand-to-hand combat. Use your head.

So I do.

I jerk forward, my forehead colliding with the Bloodknight’s helmet. They fall backward, and I scramble on top of them, ripping the helmet from their head, prepared to launch my own assault, but the soldier’s familiar face gives me pause.

“Please,” she begs, eyes wide, blood pouring from her nose. “Stop—it’s me!”

I recognize the human, her blond hair matted in clumps. Diana, the girl whose life had been traded for my rescue the night we faked Captain Shade’s death. I look up at the Bloodknights swarming the Starchaser—some are humans, I realize with a pang of terror. And not just any humans—members of the Starchaser’s crew who didn’t make it out of Castle Grim while the rest of us escaped, now compelled to do the Eerie’s bidding as Bloodknights.

Diana struggles under my hold, but her arms, pinned beneath my knees, don’t seem to labor of her own accord, the twitching movements haphazard, like a puppet on a string.

More, whispers the voice. More blood. More death. More power.

I draw my fist back, and Diana closes her eyes, even as her body continues to fight.

All it takes is a single, precise blow to her temple, and Diana’s body goes slack—unconscious but alive.