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“And is it okay if I wear my other armor underneath?” she asks. “Are you sure this wouldn’t be better for stealth?”
“Dragonscale is silent,” Nereus says. “Normally, it would be worn without anything underneath—since Merati women can shift, and they need their tentacles ready for amphibious combat—but for you, this should work. It’ll provide an added layer of protection when you face Lamia.”
“Hopefully I won’t be facing her at all,” Fiona grumbles. “Alright—I’m ready.”
She holds out her arms as Ryker guides the armor over her, and I’m surprised to find it fits like a glove. First the cuirass, then the shoulder pieces are laid on her body, her long limbs gleaming turquoise. She’s a small woman—certainly smaller than any Merati would be—but the armor suits her.
The final pieces are the bracers, which Nereus and I lock into place around her wrists. Of course, she’ll have to take them off later; we won’t reach Homeworld for another two days. But now we know that she’s fully prepared, and that she’ll be defended when she finds Lamia, even if we can’t be there with her.
“Is there anything else I should know about Merati customs?” she asks. “Fancy armor, weapons…?”
“Well, typically my people wield tridents,” Nereus says. “But you seem adept with a blade, so that’s what you should keep.”
“Actually,” Ryker says, clearing his throat. “I had something made for you.”
He turns around and reaches toward a weapons rack, and when he faces Fiona again he holds a golden short sword in his hands. Emblazoned on the hilt is the visage of Yrsa, the mother goddess—and a woman that has somewhat become Fiona’s patron saint. Fiona gasps at the sight of it, and at the twin aquamarine jewels set into Yrsa’s eyes. “Oh my…Ryker, it’s beautiful.”
“I’ve had it since we left Alamancia, but I was waiting for the right time,” Ryker murmurs. “Designed by the Hunt. Perfectly balanced.”
She takes it and spins it experimentally, reminding me just how far she’s come since she brawled with us on the beach all those months ago. “Thank you,” she says.
“Your weapons belt,” Ryker offers, reaching back for something else. He holds out the belt, complete with a holster for the blade. “Yrsa will keep you safe through the coming conflict.”
“She’ll keep all of us safe,” Fiona nods. “You know…I’ve never really been the religious type, but I believe in her. And with all of this, I have confidence we’ll win.”
She reaches for me, and I step in to hold her. Soon, the others have crowded around us, warming each other in these final moments before we leave Triton.
We’re as ready as we’ll ever be.
And it’s time to take down the evil queen.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
KYE
The battle draws near, and the environment on the ship is tense.
Not at each other. Something happened after we took the Elixir. Things seem a lot less tense than they did before, but every time I think about what’s going to happen next, a knot tightens at the pit of my stomach.
The Skoll might believe that this is a good plan, but thinking about seeing Lamia again doesn’t make me feel empowered at all. I know that the Elixir bonding is supposed to help with mind control and I try to focus on that instead of the dread I feel whenever I think about her.
I’m zoning out, drinking from a nearly empty cup of Merati tea, when I hear footsteps approaching me. I don’t need to look up. Somehow, I’m certain that this is Nereus, and I can practically feel his concern for me.
“Hey,” he says. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Yeah, it’s a big palace,” I reply, turning to look at him and trying for a smile. “I keep getting lost.”
“No, you don’t.”
I sigh. “You’re right,” I say. There’s something magnetic about the Elixir bond, so it feels like I’m vaguely aware of where everyone is at all times and how they’re doing. Which means they must be aware of me and how I’m doing. I’m okay with Nereus and Fiona knowing, but I’ve always been a private person, and I wish I could unplug myself from this at will.
Nereus’ hand lands on my own, his skin soft and warm against mine. I can feel electricity between us as he touches me. The way he’s felt has always made me feel weak at the knees, but there’s something else here.
Something more.
“Talk to me,” he says.
I turn my knees so that I’m facing him. The gold eyeshadow over his lagoon green eyes make them stand out even more than they normally do, and his long hair is pinned away from his face for a change, silver and gold rings and ornaments interspersed all along his long wavy hair.
