Page 86 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

As her breathing settled, she blinked, thick forearms coming into focus. It wasn’t his magic, but Raiden’s actual hands holding her. Heat exploded across her body, her water beast delighting at his proximity.

Without thinking, she grabbed his arms, pulling him toward her. She used his momentum to roll, pinning Raiden beneath her legs. His eyes flared, and he went wholly still as her thighs straddled his hips. Kora panted three times.

“Three,” she said. “Tell me something now, Windward.”

Raiden’s gaze darkened as it swept down her body. Her hands were still wrapped around his arms, pinned by his sides. He made no effort to push her off, but his hands curled, fingers gripping the thick grass beneath him. An inferno erupted where their bodies touched, and Kora tried to hide the tremor in her thighs.

“What do you wish to know?” he rasped, wetting his bottom lip.

“Tell me something Kordelia cannot change.”

He spoke without hesitation. “You’re an only child. As far as I’m aware, it’d only ever been you and Davy. No siblings, no external family, and no mother.”

Disappointment swept in. Erick had mentioned Davy refused to discuss Kora’s mother in the past. She’d hoped someone else might’ve had more information.

“I see,” she mumbled. Raiden shifted beneath her, and she allowed one of his hands to rest on her knee.

“I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, you and Davy were thicker than a pair of pirates. I’m so sorry that he’s gone.” Raiden’s sincerity bled through and Kora dipped her chin. She still had Erick, and she was never letting him near Thanos again.

Wanting to dissipate the mood, Kora lurched backwards and chose a new offence. She hurtled a stream of water at Raiden from the now calm river. She’d learned the difference since Blake, understanding that she had the power of intention with her magic. Raiden had explained that, compared to her past, Kora’s magic had manifested in the form of creation. She could potentially do anything and everything with water, including sharpening it so fine it could inflict a magical wound.

But when her power first manifested, she’d been in a panic. Scared of being caught, scared of capture and death. Since then, she no longer feared Death itself, and her coexistence with her water beast was nurturing to the point she could freely flow with her power, just how Aerion’s did with his chakrams.

Raiden dodged with a laugh at her surprise attack, now sprinting to jump across the river again. Before he could, two streams strapped his ankles in place as another two pulled his hands to the ground, flattening them to the earth. Kora strolled towards him, a smug grin beaming from her face as she forced him into one of Aerion’s yoga positions.

“Well done, little Huntress.” Raiden returned the smile, and for the first time in a while, Kora’s shoulders lifted with hope as her heart sang with a newfound warmth.

37

Kora

Hallow’s Day had arrived.

Kora tried to quash the unease rising within her. She had one month until she had to fulfil her deal with Zephyr, and she was no closer to understanding how she would infiltrate Talmon and find Barron. How she could bring Erick out from his coma.

Kora had remained in this castle for weeks, the furthest she’d ventured since her shadowed escapade was the Aspen Glade with Raiden for training. No one had told her she wasn’t allowed to leave anymore, but the truth was, she’d been scared. Of showing her face to a city who screamed at her in fear, of venturing outside and cursed as the enemy, cast out for her blind actions.

“Ready?” Aryn’s head popped around the door as Kora retrieved a cloak from her armoire. Before she closed it, an etching caught her attention. Hidden behind where the cloak had been, were the initials K.J.

“Coming,” Kora replied quietly, frowning as she shut the armoire, following Aryn through the west wing. Anticipation thrummed through her as her steps fell in time with his. Each one bringing her closer to the public’s eye. She longed to see an open sky, to feel more of the sun on her face. Her room had become stuffy, and Kora realised she wanted to explore more of Galen, to learn its wondrous secrets.

Until Aryn had advised she needed the cloak. To hide her hair, her scar. Hector’s rumours were rampant still, the city in a state of unease that a killer stalked the palace. The Windwards—Skylar included—believed participating in the festivities would be healthy for Kora. A momentary break from the threatening shadow leering across the sea.

“You seem tense,” Aryn observed. His longbow had returned, resting on top of a dark orange waistcoat overlaying a white shirt with dark breeches. His hair was swept back, and leather braces lined his wrists.

“I don’t have time for celebrations,” Kora murmured. “I have a month until Zephyr enforces his deal and Erick . . . we . . . we’re done. What if someone recognises me out there?”

Aryn’s light smile faded. “I’m sure we’ll get something soon from Hector and Leto. Raiden sent them a hawk requesting updates on Barron’s motions away from Zephyr’s eyes. Once we know where he is, we’ll get a plan. Until then, just keep doing what you’re doing. And that’s what the cloak is for. One of us will always be with you.”

Kora nodded, allowing Aryn’s faith to fortify her nerves. She tapped into her body momentarily, taking a moment to appreciate how much muscle she’d regained, her strength returning, but not quite at its peak. She no longer looked like a walking corpse, and even though her golden-kissed tan had faded from the Mist, she liked her new moonlit glow.

Clasping the prismatic cloak around her neck, Kora fluffed her curling hair, almost laughing at how she now experienced things like her hair getting caught in clothes, brushes, and how the strands stuck to her nape when she got hot. Memories of Erick trimming her hair swept in like a tidal wave, dowsing the tickling feeling of curls. Kora nibbled her cheek, rubbing the feeling of the sharp slice of shears away from her ears.

He’d done it all for her safety, her protection. Whether that was from Barron recognising her, or from males within the fleet. Kora adjusted the corset cinching her waist, recalling the wraps Erick had stuffed her into to make her frame leaner. He probably could have handled it better. Gods, everything could have been handled better.

Forgoing her usual breeches and tunic attire, she donned a deep navy skirt, with a matching corset embroidered with swirling patterns of silver over a white shirt. She still wore her favoured boots though, after promptly disposing of any heels she’d discovered in her chambers.

“Try to enjoy the day, Captain. Take this day for yourself. Hallow’s Day is about the ending of things. But also, the beginning of something.”