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We burst through the hatch as my berserker rage kicks into effect, no weapon capable of stopping me. I keep my shield on my left arm and plow ahead, straight into the line of guards waiting for us at the docks. As the other landing parties forcefully dock, I hear war cries go up from every direction, my muscles tensing in preparation for combat.
Onward, faster, stronger.
I bend my head to swing my antlers in a wide arc, and Lamia’s troops go flying across the bay. We’re still in shallow water, blue rippling across the glass ceiling above, melding with the red blood now spattered across the floor. Lamia’s soldiers flee in my path, running toward the door to the bay to lock down the door.
I can’t let that happen.
I race after them, so fast that they can’t escape, bowling over Merati, Skoll, and Mlok guards. Some lay down their weapons, unwilling to fight me, while others continue to scramble for the airlock. They’ll flood the bay if they can get it open—which isn’t going to work for me.
And I’m the only one close enough to stop them.
My pace quickens, and I slide underneath the door just as it starts to close. I have to save my comrades, though, so I spring into action. Guards flood the corridor, keeping close watch on the gate controls, and I know I’ll have to kill them all.
This is the last time.
I have to do this for Fiona.For Homeworld.
I swing my antlers again, and my axe in the other direction. I cut down my foes one by one, knocking them down in quick succession. I bellow and draw more to me, leaving a pile of bodies in my wake, viscera building up in a thick layer on my flesh.
The door is almost shut; I have to hurry.
I hack my way to the control panel, ignoring the cries of enemy soldiers. I can feel something tugging at the threads of my sanity, unraveling me like a tapestry. If Fiona and I weren’t bonded…well, this must be Lamia’s psychic influence. The troops around me start to cry out in unison, generating a discordant ringing that makes my head hurt.
She’s trying to personally stop me.
Good.Let her focus on me.
And let Fiona make it through the palace unscathed.
That’s what I try to focus on as I’m surrounded by guards, their bodies blocking out the light.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
KYE
Even in the rush of battle, Homeworld is a beautiful planet. As the Wrath breaks through the atmosphere, I begin to make out the deep blue waves covering the surface, white ridges at their crests. When there’s no land, the waves almost look like mountains, rolling in endless circles around the planet.
And underneath, the city glows.
Hundreds of structures lit with golden glow lamps, some with their peaks poking out of the sea. I feel Nereus’ pain at the sight of how decrepit everything is, and at the tug of strained gravity on our ship. Even the ocean looks weird, the waves circling in places they shouldn’t.
How are we going to fix this? So much damage has already been done.
“We’re about to head into battle,” I tell Nereus, looking over at him. Taln sits in another seat, strapped into his chair; this time I made sure we had seatbelts on before we got into trouble. “You okay?”
Nereus shifts in his seat. “With the attack, or with the destruction of my planet?”
“Both…?” I murmur. “This is…fuck, it’s rough.”
“If we stop her now, we should be able to mitigate it,” Taln says. “If anything, this should make us more confident in our decision to attack now while she’s still struggling to prepare.”
“And if we fail, the planet dies,” I mutter. “No pressure.”
The Wrath is still new to me—at least, newer than the Naiad—but I’m starting to learn her intricacies when it comes to the way she maneuvers. I steer the ship to glide at the head of the fleet, then dip the nose to skim across the water, leaving a bubbling wake behind us. Nereus takes another deep breath, reaching for my knee, and I try to send as many soothing thoughts his way as I can.
It’s not easy, given how fucking petrified I am myself.
“Easy,” Taln says, a hand on my shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. Flying is as simple as breathing for you.”
