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Nava had used every last ounce of her magic to transfer to Devon and defeat the Crow who had held him. Gods, she hadn’t realized how much she relied on her power until the bomb had dulled it. Now a hole gaped inside her.
It wasn’t the arrowheads or the blood loss. Arkimedes had told her the artifact had shattered right before he fainted, and in the midst of her panic, she hadn’t even considered what that meant.
“It wasn’t the Crows, or at least not just their arrows.” She shoved her hand inside Arkimedes’s pocket. Pain shot through her finger as the broken glass pricked her skin. She withdrew it and examined the thick drop of blood that beaded on the tip of her finger.
“What is that?”
Devon watched in silent horror as she carefully pulled bloodied shards of the small bottle from inside Arkimedes’s pocket, taking better care this time so she wouldn’t get cut by the larger fragments. None of the green substance that had previously filled the vial remained.
“I need to make sure that the artifact isn’t harming him further…” How much of the spell had Arkimedes’s skin absorbed? Maybe it had only soaked into his woolen pants? She debated pulling the garment off to examine further.
A cloud of pure magic assaulted her nose as the guards and Crows shouted curses at each other in ancient languages. The smell alone was foul and brought tears to her eyes.
“We were trading for the artifact when the Crows attacked.” Nava tossed the pieces she’d fished out of Ark’s pocket to the side, eager to fill in the silence. Best not to focus on the fight going on around them or that it was growing quieter by the minute.
“You found it—and it’s all over him?”
Nava sucked in a breath and pressed both hands to Arkimedes’s chest. His rapid heartbeat was palpable beneath her touch, too fast for an unconscious person. Sorrow sank its claws deep inside her. If she still had the sun stone, it would have amplified her energy, and perhaps she would have been able to help her soulmate. But now it was gone, lost to the grimy hands of those dragon shifters.
“The pirates called it a spell, though it was a potion and not the weapon we were hoping for. I didn’t even know Arkimedes had taken it until right before he fainted.”
A curse slipped past Devon’s lips, and he slammed his open hand against the cart’s side. “I shouldn’t have gone after that kid. I wasn’t able to help him either way, and it distracted me from the Crows approaching.” He frowned at Arkimedes’s unmoving body. “If I’d been there with the two of you, perhaps it wouldn’t have gone this way.”
It was far too quiet all of a sudden. Not a single sound traveled toward them from the street.
As if reading her thoughts, Devon peered around the edge of the cart, then pulled back quickly. “There are two Crows left, and they’re checking their dead. We don’t have long until they search for us.”
Nava swallowed and tried to grasp at whatever sliver of magic lay dormant within her. But there was nothing left for her to heal Arkimedes, let alone fight with. “Are the guards dead?”
“I don’t see them. They might have gone after the archer.” Devon sighed, pressing his body to the building behind him. “What a team we make…”
“Even the best team wouldn’t be able to hold out against such odds,” Nava said, forcing the words through the knot in her throat.
Soon, steps echoed through the empty street. The Crows were drawing closer, their words still muted by the crashing of the waves.
“More useless deserters and pirates. I don’t see Devon Black, the Reaper, or the girl.”
Too close. Devon pressed his finger to his lips, and Nava held her breath, waiting.
“They couldn’t have gone far. The archers got the Reaper.”
Nava slid the dagger from its sheath and tightened her sticky hand around its pommel. They could still fight and make it out of here alive, right? Surely this wasn’t the end. She was tired, but so were the Crows.
A bell rang from a nearby rooftop, echoing over the two-story buildings that lined the boardwalk, and a sudden rush of shadows dropped from the sky. Nava counted at least twenty guards. They landed on the road with a rustle of flapping wings.
Looked like the Crows’ lives wouldn’t last long.
She peered around the edge of the cart. They all wore shiny metal armor in warm copper tones with brass details. She’d seen that same armor many times when they’d stopped her in her tracks in the castle. The final Dark One who descended had the longest wings, black like the shadows that wrapped around him, shrouding him in darkness. Why had the king come all the way to the ports when he could send out his people?
There weren’t that many Crows left, right? Not unless there were many more archers than she’d originally thought. Nava glanced down at Arkimedes and pressed her hand harder to his chest. He’d known and tried to warn her. Not that it would have made a difference.
“Line up all the Crows on the street and find me my son—and the girl.” The king’s voice deepened on his last two words. Goose bumps rose on Nava’s skin as she drew closer to Arkimedes.
His hot breaths were fleeing his lips in ragged puffs, hitting her face like burning coals. What was worse—to face the Crows or the king?
Fear paralyzed her, gluing her to the spot. How were they going to escape when they couldn’t defend themselves with magic?
The next time she dared to peek, the guards were dragging the two remaining Crows across the cobblestone and toward the stunned bodies of the passersby. They fought against the guards’ hold, no longer wearing those weird, bird-like helmets that had protected them from their stunning spell.
