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The waves rolled near the chasm. Over the barrier between the two worlds, more water thrashed violently. A bit of black spilled from beneath the surface, like ink bubbled from some undersea well. Then amidst the darkness, rich, bloody crimson rose toward the surface.
The sea fae slowed their assault. They roared with a twisted bit of glee at the sight.
There was a knot in my belly. Whatever was coming was of great importance to the sea folk.
Through the violent boil of the Chasm, a dark, jagged point emerged. The bowsprit was sharp and angled, opening like the jaws of a coiled sea serpent. Spines like actual broken pieces of bone followed. Each piece jutted off the round belly of the new ship like bony knives.
My breath caught at the sight of the first mast. Thick, crimson sails stitched up in rough pieces of canvas and whatever hardened creatures the sea folk added to strengthen them were a horrid memory.
The Ever King’s ship.
There was too much distance yet to see who manned it now, but it didn’t matter. The inky seas spilled around the royal ship, and it took little to guess what creature was rising along with the strongest ship of the sea.
Rave braced for the new attack. The sea folk seemed empowered and faced the shore with a new thirst for violence burning in their eyes.
Horns wailed from the towers. Archers prepared to fire, doubtless until the last arrow met the soft flesh of an enemy. There were simply not enough of us to battle them and win. We would fall today, but we would fall with blades in hand, with passion in our voices, with as much sea fae blood sprayed on our faces as we could manage.
Silas blew out a sharp breath. I braced, knives at the ready.
Sea fae that were already on land fought the Rave, Olaf among them. The captain swung and battled with ferocity in every jab, strike, and thrust, yet no strikes seemed to rid the land of the sea fae. Like a plague, they appeared from the waves and rose onto the shore.
The space I could fight lessened as the Rave stepped back, huddling around us; more sea fae rushed the land. One fae would strike. I’d block. Another would aim to take out my feet. Silas would chop his sword.
A blade sliced across my ribs. I cried out, fumbling.
“Calista!” Silas’s terror-lined voice broke down to my soul.
A sea fae, two heads taller than me, with eyes like dried blood, took hold of my hair; another gripped my wrist. They grinned wide enough I could see the sharp points of their canines showing through. I never understood why the sea fae had damn fangs. They didn’t drink blood. Maybe they tore their fish apart, raw and feral-like.
I held their eyes; I’d look at them as I died.
In the next breath, inky shadows curled around my legs, scaling my body like a dark cloak. Darkness filled the spaces between me and the sea folk.
My heart stilled.
The two sea fae watched the ribbons of shadows thread around their limbs, their throats.
They had no time to consider moving away before the darkness tightened like a garrote and yanked their necks to the side in a horrid angle. They convulsed on their feet, then toppled over.
For a moment I was stunned, until I took note of the flopping corpses of other sea folk. Shadows slithered away, leaving their broken bodies in the muddy walk of Raven Row.
I followed the retreat of the shadows and nearly cried out in a broken sob of joy when the Nightrender—that wonderfully frightening Shadow King—stepped onto the row. His eyes were the blackest of black, and he wasn’t alone.
My royals. My family. They spilled into the gaps behind him, a wave of their own. Too many—as in they had bleeding young ones. All their littles were in the throes of the battle. My gaze landed on Mira, tucked close to Saga’s side.
I looked to my aunt, panic in her eyes as she took in darkness on the sea. If Davorin got his slimy hands on Saga’s daughter . . . all gods, I blocked off the thoughts of what he might do.
“The battle lord comes!” I screamed at them. “He rides with that bleeding ship and we can’t hold against them.”
Valen shoved through the crowd. I pressed a hand to my chest, tears blurry on my lashes when Sol followed. His face was as stone, but he gave me a swift nod.
“Pull the fighters back,” Valen shouted at me.
I didn’t hesitate. “Olaf! Pull back. Pull away from the sea.”
Another horn blasted into the dawn, and at Olaf’s command, all the Rave captains down the line of warriors barked their orders to move back. Some sea fae remained trapped among us, but after the brutality of the Nightrender, most fought mightily hard to reach the shores.
Silas was among those who cut them down as they fled.
