In the Veins of the Drowning(94)

The fabled ship belonged at the bottom of the sea. The cannon smoke was thick and white, stinging my eyes. I pulled myself above it to cling to the ropes and scanned the flagship. My heart crushed as I let the lures build within me, as I set my intention on the vast crew, but I clamped down on them all when I saw a flash of gold through the lingering smoke.

I froze as I made out the shape of that old, crenellated crown. It was Nemea. Here. He had not been on a ship in nearly thirty years. He’d refused, keeping himself safe from all its threats by remaining cloistered in his mountain fort.

His unfeeling gaze seemed to sense me through the smoke. A dark apparition, he stood in the middle of the deck, wearing worn, ill-fitting black armor. Those stabbing gray eyes locked with mine.

My mind couldn’t process the sight of him. On a ship. In Varian waters. I was supposed to go to him. Rohana had told me as much. Eusia had taunted me with it, pointing me home, home, home.

Power swirled through me, surging like a storm, but I held it in. I pulled at the buttons over my spine and ripped them open, one by one. The captain’s order to fire sliced the air. Cannonballs flew from both ships. One of the Serafi volleys cracked through the bulwark to the side of me and I shielded myself from the splintering wood, but I felt the sharp pieces pierce my flesh. My cheek, my neck, my arm, burned from the stuck shrapnel.

I fought to keep my mind clear, then set my intention on the water and ordered a deep current to slice between our ship and Nemea’s. In two beats, the Serafi ship careened, forcing their cannon aim to skew.

“What the hell are you doing?” the captain yelled to me as I pulled the back of my tunic even wider. “Freeze them! Lure them into the water!”

My wings broke through my skin. I stretched them wide and tried to keep my balance with the new weight tugging me back. Our ship was badly beaten, splitting further with each blow. But the Serafi flagship had not been able to overcome my current. It listed, its sails going slack.

“I’m boarding that ship,” I called back to the captain.

Her face was red, spittle at her lips. “Get them in the water first, Gods damn it.”

I shook my head. I couldn’t risk accidentally luring Nemea over the side of that ship.

She drew her sword. A cannonball flew over the deck, and she ducked, darting around sailors at work. “You gave your fucking word,” she yelled, sword tip pointing at my throat.

“Tread carefully.” My body had grown taut—my power tremulous. “I have a poor history with captains.”

The lines on her face deepened with my threat. She bared her teeth, her nose wrinkling with disgust. “Get off my ship.”

The strike of her enmity felt familiar, and I bore it well. I held my chin high and got my footing. Nemea’s ship was close enough for me to glide across. When I called it, a gust blew under me, and I stepped off the ship with my wings spread wide. My stomach flipped at the sensation of moving over the air. Ungracefully, I landed on the Serafi ship’s shroud and held tight. The square-hatched ropes burned my palms, my knees, my shins.

My presence unsettled Nemea’s crew. My dark wings set them on edge, like hounds scenting their quarry. They nocked arrows and prepared ropes as they dodged the cannonballs that still flew at them. With a clamped jaw and all my focus, I sent out only three lures. I shook to maintain them, to not let Eusia take them from me. They pierced the chests of the men standing nearest Nemea. The men’s shoulders slumped as they surrounded him. As they hauled him toward the nearest mast, that burn began once more in my throat.

Nemea didn’t fight them; he didn’t rail and scream. I kept moving, trying to keep myself from arrows’ paths, trying to keep my hold on my power, and watched through the ropes. I waited for his face to redden and his eyes to bulge as they always did when his ire was up, but he only leaned back, head tipped against the mast as they tied him to it. He looked me directly in the eye. His graying hair whipped, and he held my stare even as they took his sword from his scabbard. They bound his hands and pulled the wax from his ears. And as my body began to drain of its warmth, they took the dented gold crown from his head.

The sword and crown clattered to the deck as the three men turned toward the port side of the ship. I’d sent no command. I’d not even felt when the lures had putrefied, but Eusia now tugged on the strings. The three men mouthed the prayer as they stepped over the deck with jerking movements and threw themselves into the sea.

Arrows whizzed past me, and I climbed up, fighting to keep my balance, when Nemea called up to me.

“You’re tarrying, girl.” The slice of his voice through the din made my body lock up. I felt like a child, small and powerless and in want of discipline. “I thought I taught you better. We die when we tarry, Imogen. Do what you mean to do before we both meet our ends.”

He was right, and it anguished me to admit it. It anguished me to do what came next. I closed my eyes and let my power fly. I could not count how many lures, but my power—or Eusia—knew what was required. They hooked in and the sailors on the deck all let out a breath at once. I whimpered at the searing pain in my throat and the chills that broke out over my skin. Bodies went limp, weapons clamored to the ground. And then they all began to climb over the edges of the ship. Like a wave of tar, they slowly crested the rails and spilled into the briny water.

I looked to Nemea. I’d set all the focus I’d possessed on keeping him safe from my lure. The wind rolled over the deck, carrying with it the incessant splash of bodies and the mumbled prayers of the crew up to me on the shroud. Our gazes locked.