Page 33 of By the Flames of Her Fury

“Just a scrape,” Captain Rossa grunted. “She’ll hold. Easy does it, now.”

The ship crept forward through the heavy fog and reefs, each creak and groan more menacing than the last. Sweat trickled down my spine as the mist pressed closer. Reefs towered on either side, close enough that if I stretched out an arm, I could almost touch them.

A sudden gust of wind slammed into the sails. The port side lurched into the rock, and the helmsman scrambled to right us, sending the ship tilting too far in the opposite direction. The overcorrection caused the main boom to hit a stone column shrouded in mist. Loose rope snapped like a whip, and the boom swung, catching a deckhand high in the chest.

I realized too late that it wasn’t a deckhand.

“Kieran!” Tessa shrieked.

Kieran went over the side with a shout, vanishing into the churning water between us and the reefs. My heart jumped up my throat as Tessa and I both lunged for the rail.

“Rope!” Rossa bellowed. “Get a line out!”

Kieran surfaced, gasping for breath as the current dragged him toward a jagged outcrop.

“Grab the rope!” I called down. He grappled at the rope, hauling himself up several feet.

“Pull ‘im up!” Rossa barked. I helped the others pull the rope, slowly raising him to the rail.

But then the ship veered to the side, nearly crushing Kieran against the rock wall. He let out a sharp cry and lost his grip as he disappeared beneath the surface again, the rope falling against the hull.

“No!” Tessa stumbled forward, and I caught her just in time as another blast of steam erupted where Kieran had been moments before. A blistered arm broke the surface, followed by his head. His skin was already red and bubbling where the boiling water had hit him.

He lunged for the rope again, wrapping it around his wrist. Rossa, Tessa, and I pulled with everything we had. When he got close enough, Captain Rossa hooked an arm beneath his shoulders. Together, we dragged Kieran over the rail. He collapsed onto the deck in a heap, coughing up seawater. His skin was raw and red, one arm held tight against his ribs as he sucked in ragged breaths.

“Next time,” he rasped at me, “I’m staying in Drakorum.”

Tessa gave a watery laugh as she dropped to her knees beside him, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. I sagged against the rail, legs shaking.

What felt like hours later but was surely only minutes, the mist thinned. Bright sunlight broke through the fog beyond the bow, and the reefs on either side gradually gave way to open water. Ahead was a peaceful, endless blue sky, as if nothing had happened at all.

Tessa came up beside me. “There’s no going back now,” she said heavily, taking off her hat and holding it to her chest. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, Ev?”

15

Everett

SEVEN YEARS AGO

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Songbird called through the hole in the wall.

I nodded, then remembered she couldn’t see me. “Ready.” I kept my eyes trained on the hole. In the next second, a peanut came racing through. I opened my mouth and ducked low to try and catch it, but it fell short and hit me on the chin.

“Missed again,” I called. “How many has that been now? Five?”

“Oh, like you could do so much better.” I heard the eye roll in her voice.

“I mean, I can. Obviously.”

“Prove it,” she taunted. Her gold eye found mine right before she backed away. All I could see was a flash of blonde hair as her head tilted back.

I took one of my peanuts and closed my left eye, aiming at the hole in the stone. When I had it lined up, I flicked my wrist and sent it flying. There was a scuffling sound, then a pause. “Got it!” she exclaimed.

“I told you,” I said. “We’ve almost gone through all my nuts.”

She chuckled, and I breathed a sigh of relief. It had been four weeks since she was brought here and her mother was captured trying to rescue her. It took me nearly two to get her to talk again. With some coaxing, I finally got the songbird to come out of her silence. We started playing this game a few nights ago when the guards brought dinner. Food in the cells always varied. Tonight was a cup of water and a plate of peanuts with moldy fruit on the side.

I took a small rock and carved another crude line into the floor. One thousand, six hundred and nine now. All identical, except for the line from twenty-eight days ago, where I’d drawn a star next to it.