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As soon as the thought formed, the bowsprit of a ship emerged. Wisps of the grey and white vapors rolled back and dissipated into the air revealing a vessel of shiny obsidian, creeping menacingly closer.
Once the vapors vanished, I could see what was a sleek ebony caravel, a boat built for speed and maneuverability, often used to explore shallow waters. I estimated this one to be around 60 feet in length, which was smaller than many seafaring craft but a good size for our end of the river.
Silently, it glided to the dock in front of us, portside. No wind puffed the triangular sails. It moved hauntingly, powered by supernatural forces, reminding me of something from a child’s tale of ghost ships.
Phalen drew in a breath. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”
“What?” Draven and I both demanded.
“Look at the flag.”
My eyes flew up the main mast and landed on the limp black fabric. Despite the folds of the eerily motionless pennant, I could make out the distinct features of the profile of the head of a bird with one dark pink eye. No, not just a bird.
A raven.
Every hair on my body stood on end. Now I knew why its sails needed no wind. This was Il Corvo Negro—The Black Raven—and it belonged to The Navita.
“Well, that explains the fog,” Phalen muttered for our ears only.
The fae had a long running habit of downplaying their powers. Not many knew how The Navita traveled with near invisibility. He’d worked relentlessly to keep many of his abilities a secret. And because we were such staunch allies, we’d kept his secrets—the ones we knew, anyway.
We were aware he had some unnamed power that allowed him to travel virtually undetected. That he could poof into existence in this manner wasn’t knowledge we possessed. It was ballsy of the infamous male to parade this magic in front of so many Shadow demons. Many an enemy would pay heartily for such information.
“It doesn’t explain why he’s here,” I said, crossing my arms so I wasn’t tempted to draw my weapon. We’d seen neither hide nor hair of The Navita in over a decade. Something had drawn him here, something serious enough for him to pay no heed to hiding his capabilities.
“Or why our soldiers never came out of that blasted fog,” Phalen grumbled. As head of the Shadow Army, our fighters were his first priority.
The Navita, or to us, Captain Brokk Ulrik, would normally be a welcomed sight. He’d assisted us in overthrowing the tyrant who used to be Shadow Lord, decades ago. That his insignia bore the symbol from my continuing nightmares made me more than wary. I could sense my comrades felt the same.
“He’s a friend, but I don’t like this,” Draven spoke.
“Shall I tell him to give us our Shadows and then be on his way?” Phalen inquired. The Navita was powerful, but Phalen would confront him alone if asked, friend or not.
Draven’s muscles were locked, though outwardly he held a neutral pose. Whatever my feelings, I’d take my cues from my cousin. The Shadow Lord was law, plain and simple, especially in front of outsiders. Pushbacks only happened in private.
Draven looked back up to the flag, then at me, lifting an eyebrow.
Despite the pulse now roaring through my veins, I shrugged a shoulder. “Your call, but I’d prefer to get it over with, if it’s all the same.”
Draven’s hand lifted and squeezed my bicep. “Together, then.”
My face tightened as my chest warmed. “Together,” I agreed resolutely, finding I wasn’t quite as afraid as I probably should have been. It had everything to do with the males standing with me.
Phalen shouted orders for several Shadows to assist in securing the mooring lines. Two heads cropped up along the ship’s rail, one much taller and older than the other. Together, the newcomers adjusted the gangplank into position while four of our soldiers assisted from the dock.
“New crew,” Phalen gibed. “Wonder who else he has aboard.”
The three of us pushed out our magics, seeking any other living creatures who might be on the craft. I easily felt the two Shadow demons on deck, just out of sight and presumably unharmed. Skimming over the boy and the captain, I continued.
My abdominals cramped severely when my powers felt a fifth soul, one below deck. Muscles constricted unmercifully and I had to fight to keep myself upright. The soul held a familiarity I couldn’t identify.Unnerveddidn’t even begin to cover what I was feeling.
“Casimir?” Draven checked.
“F-fine,” I waved him off. “I’m fine.” I called upon my years of training and fighting battles to center myself. A good soldier had to be able to go numb from time to time.
“You’re not fine. Phalen, tell Brokk—”
“No,” I gritted out quietly. “Let this play out. The Black Raven docking today is far too coincidental. My dreams have been building towards something. This has to be it. At least hear why Brokk’s come to us. Grant me that much.”
