Page 9 of Cursebreaker

I draw two pistols from holsters at my back. Take aim.

I fire the first shot, the recoil nearly knocking me off my feet.

The serpent’s head swivels, its preternatural eyes locked on mine, silver light holding me in its otherworldly stare.

Again. Pain rips through my arms, shredding my muscles as I pull the trigger.

More. I fire another bullet.

Charlie drops onto the deck of the Starchaser, followed by Gabriel close at his heels. Both are safe, along with Will and Titus. But Lewis is still on board the Mythslayer, along with the handful of human prisoners, chained to the deck, unable to escape.

The serpent shrieks again, and darkness closes in on me, but I plant my feet—force myself to squeeze the trigger.

Lewis has just freed the first prisoner when the serpent loses interest in me, turning its attention back on the Mythslayer. My brother drags the human, beaten beyond recognition, toward the gangplank as the serpent shoots forward, faster than a whip of lightning.

A roar erupts from my chest, drowned out by the thunder, as I fire another bullet.

The serpent wraps its colossal body around the mainmast of the Mythslayer, snapping it in two.

Crack.

The Mythslayer seems to shatter, an explosion of splintered wood, and the gangplank falls to the ocean below.

I think I scream Lewis’s name as he disappears, plummeting toward the water.

“No!” Charlie lunges for the taffrail.

The pistols slip from my grasp, clatter to the deck.

I sway, stumble.

And then—

A hand, gripping the edge of the Starchaser.

“Pull him up!”

Charlie and Gabriel hoist Lewis over the side of the ship, still clutching the human’s forearm, dragging him onto the deck as well. The human flops onto his back, heaving for breath, and Charlie hugs Lewis close to his chest, screaming curses at him over the howl of the rain.

Aboard the Mythslayer, the human prisoners’ cries are cut short as the serpent thrashes, and the ship splits in half. Margaret shouts something from the helm as she attempts to navigate the Starchaser away from the pull of the sinking vessel.

And there, lying face up on the deck of the Starchaser—Titus.

The subtle rise and fall of his chest is the last thing I see as my head lolls, my eyelids drifting shut, and I collapse into Henry’s arms.

Bleak gray light prods at my eyelids, sharp and insistent. I jolt upright, clutching the bronze medallion around my neck, only to find I’m not alone.

“It’s me,” Henry whispers, his hand on my arm to steady me, his touch light. He sits on the edge of my bed in the captain’s quarters of the Starchaser. “Just me.”

I blink at him, my heart pounding against my sternum. “Is—” I try to speak, but it feels as if I’ve swallowed a handful of rusty nails. “Is everyone—” The dull amber glow of the lamp stings my eyes, my temples throbbing. “The Starchaser—how long—”

“Everyone’s fine,” he says softly. “Gabriel healed your wounds, then spent the rest of the night repairing the ship, which seemed to really put Charlie out. Before I came to see you, your brother was pacing the deck, swinging a hammer, looking very much like he wished to use it on a certain bonewielder.”

Bonewielder.

“Where’s Will?”

Henry’s gaze darts to my throat, his mouth pressed in a hard line. “He’s chained up in the brig. Says he doesn’t remember how he got free of his binds.” His jaw tightens. “He keeps asking for you.”