Kalder took a step toward Nyx and Aamon, following those shining threads, but Graylin touched his flank. “Stay, Kalder. We still have debts that must be paid.”
As the knight stared at her, she understood part of that obligation was owed to her, but from the way he kept his hand on Kalder’s side, she suspected there was more to this cryptic statement, another unspoken tally yet to be settled.
Graylin stepped back and glanced at the others. “Keep her safe.”
Kanthe shrugged. “We got her this far, didn’t we?”
Jace grumbled, “More like she got us here.”
Frell stepped forward and gripped the knight’s forearm. “Well met, Graylin sy Moor. We will do all we can to protect Marayn’s child until you can—”
Darant’s voice bellowed from the brass tube. “We’re here! Heilsa ho!”
The ship shot out of the mists and over flat waters that reflected the bright blue sky. The sudden radiance—from the lake, from the heavens—blinded Nyx. She blinked at the glare and gasped as the ship’s nose dove toward the Heilsa’s surface. The sudden drop lifted her to her toes, nearly threw her back into the hold, but she kept her grip on the sailraft’s stanchion. Behind her, birds squawked from the hold’s hanging cages.
Closer at hand, Graylin still had hold of Frell and kept the alchymist on his feet. Kanthe did the same with Jace. Then the Sparrowhawk righted itself, sweeping into a slight turn, running along the shoreline. The keel lowered until it skimmed the lake, casting up wings of water to either side.
“Now!” Graylin yelled, and shoved Frell toward the open hatch.
Kanthe and Jace stumbled after the alchymist.
Nyx glanced one last time at the man who could be her father—then turned before fear rooted her in place. She pounded across the dropped hatch, Aamon at her side. Ahead, the three men leaped, one after the other, out the hatch and vanished into the dark blue waters.
Nyx reached the end and nearly balked—then Aamon jumped, leading the way. Drawing on his brave heart, she followed just as the Sparrowhawk’s nose lifted again. Thrown off balance, she tumbled over the hatch’s edge, as if being dumped out the back, and crashed into the water.
The hard impact rolled her, knocked the air out of her lungs. Then the cold grabbed her, shocked her back to the surface with a thrash of limbs. She coughed her chest back open and searched around.
Aamon popped up nearby, with a shake of wet ears. He panted, his eyes glowing at her. Past his shoulders, she saw Jace and Frell paddling for the misty shoreline. Not far, Kanthe kicked in place until he spotted her. He waved an arm toward the forest and swam after the others.
She gulped and set off for shore.
Aamon paced her, smoothly parting the water, his gaze ahead, but the bell of one ear fixed toward her splashing. She remembered Graylin’s words. Protect her. Aamon clearly intended to honor that last command.
Her sodden boots finally struck sand. She swam, waded, and shoved out of the lake and up the bank. She spun around in time to see the Sparrowhawk reach the far shore and vanish into the clouds above the trees.
A low growl warned her.
Also a shout from Kanthe. “Get into the woods!”
Nyx retreated up the shoreline and into the mists. She stumbled through low branches. The others did the same—and just in time.
Far to her right, a large shadow crested high over the canopy. It stretched its darkness over the bright waters. The prow of a ship appeared out of the clouds, along with a massive balloon.
The warship …
A hand grabbed her shoulder. “Keep going,” Kanthe said. “We dare not be spotted by the ship’s farscopes if they spy along this shoreline.”
She started to turn—when distant explosions rolled out of the misty forests across the lake. Orange bursts blinked and faded, like fireflits flashing in a dark swamp.
Kanthe witnessed the same. “That bastard Haddan…”
Apparently, the prince had been right about an ambush.
Aamon growled next to her, echoing her own anger and worry.
She feared for the others, but also for her group.
She gazed at the spreading shadow over the water.
Would their ruse trick the enemy?
* * *
MIKAEN POINTED BEYOND the curve of the Tytan’s bow windows toward the wink and flash of fiery alchymicals on the far side of the lake. His heart pounded with the excitement of the hunt. His vision was a pinpoint fixed on his target.
“Get us over there!” he shouted.
Mikaen stood within the warship’s forecastle, which swept the breadth of the bow. A curve of windows looked across the blinding glare of the lake below. Crewmembers, ten to a side, manned a slew of stations. Wheels were spun, levers yanked, and orders were shouted down the throats of bronze tubes. Two men on the port and starboard sides wielded farscopes, their faces pressed to their instruments’ eyepieces, searching the lake, sky, and forest.
Behind Mikaen, a large map had been pinned to a circular table, depicting Cloudreach and the town below in exacting detail—or as much as was known about these misty highlands. Red and blue ink crisscrossed the chart, laying out strategies and dividing a search grid.
Mikaen had no interest in such details. He shifted over to Haddan, who stood beside a pilotman at the Tytan’s wheel. The liege general gazed out the tall windows with his hands clasped behind his back. His expression was its usual rigid stone.
Mikaen could hardly stand still. He searched the flashes of flame in the mists across the lake. He swore he could smell the burning alchymicals of that firestorm, but it was more likely just from the warship’s own flashburn forges. He heard their roaring through the hull of the Tytan. Smoke billowed into view as the warship seemed to be slowing, even swinging to the east.
“Why are we turning away?” Mikaen pointed ahead. “We should be going after them. Chasing those bastards down.”
“No,” Haddan said.
Mikaen scowled at the general. “We have them trapped. The Tytan can make short work of that swyftship.”
Haddan’s attention was not on the distant firestorm, but on the waters below. “We can’t know for sure that your brother or the others are even aboard the other craft.”
“Then why did they run when they saw us?”
Haddan shrugged. “Havensfayre is a major trading city. Not all that is traded there is lawful. The ship might have been fearful of being brought low and searched.”
“Still, is it not best to eliminate any chance of the others escaping?”
“You need not worry. My fleet of hunterskiffs will deal with whoever is aboard that other craft. But I do believe that you are right, Prince Mikaen. The enemy was aboard that swyftship.”
“Then why don’t we—”
“I said was aboard.”
Mikaen frowned.
Haddan grabbed his shoulder and forced his nose closer to the bow window’s glass. “What do you see down there?”
He shrugged in the general’s grip. “Water. Lake Heilsa.”
“If you hope to be a war king one day, you must learn to read signs, like a soother with a toss of bones.” Haddan pushed Mikaen’s nose until it was pressed against the glass. “Look at the ripples spreading across the smooth surface, parting to either side, as if a knife had been drawn across that lake.”