Finally, soldiers on the pier notice us. “Hey!” one of them shouts at the nearest crewmember on our ship. “You were supposed to be tying her in. Lower your mast, port’s still closed!”
No one on board listens to him.
“I said, port’s closed!” the soldier hollers again, and this time the other soldiers shift in our direction. “Lower your mast!”
Someone in the crew hollers, and the rest of them holler back. Violetta and I stumble a little as the ship pulls free of the docks, then slowly turns its bow to face the opening of the bay. The soldiers on the pier halt, while their leader signals frantically toward others to raise the alarm. Another points a crossbow in our ship’s direction. Those closest to the railing fall into a crouch.
Our soldiers shove us. “Get down,” one of them barks. We do, right as the ship gives a lurch that makes us all sway. From the ocean below come the haunting cries of baliras. I clench my teeth. Even if these men are all here to help us, how will they get us out of port with the soldiers onshore alerted? We’ll have to get past the roped barrier, and even if we do, there will be ships sent after us—
“Adelina,” a voice behind us says. I whirl around to see a young man crouched near us. Our two soldiers give him a respectful nod, and he nods back. His eyes turn to me. I stiffen.
He sees my expression and holds up his hands. “Easy,” he says. “We didn’t go through all this trouble just to hurt you.” He glances at Violetta. “And your sister?” he adds.
“Yes,” Violetta replies, right as the ship shudders again. We fall to one side, but the mercenary talking to us hops to his feet with little effort and rushes back to the stern. From where we are, I can see glimpses of the water—and that the rope suspended over it is now cut and floating uselessly. Shouts come from the pier as we pull farther away.
Magiano hops over the bow of the ship. He’s almost completely soaked, and as the young mercenary approaches him, he shakes water out of his hair like a dog. The two exchange some words. I watch them carefully, my hand still clenched around Violetta’s.
Seconds later, Magiano and the mercenary hurry back to us. Magiano bends down, helps us to our feet, and then stands with his arms crossed. He doesn’t look concerned at all. At my suspicious expression, he just shrugs. “Relax, my love,” he says. “If I wanted to make a quick coin by selling you to someone, I wouldn’t have surrounded myself with people who don’t stand a chance against you.” The mercenary shoots him an irritated look, and Magiano holds up both hands. “I meant, you are all fantastic mercenaries. You just aren’t—well, these are the two that I told you about. Trust me, you’re interested in them because of how dangerous they are.”
“You’ve brought a hell of a lot of trouble down on us,” the mercenary replies. “I thought you were going to sneak them into the harbor, not bring the entire army down on us.”
“Plans. They’re fickle things.” Magiano hesitates. “You are a mercenary for the Night King, yes? You do know how to get us out of this, right? Are we even on the right ship? Because—”
The mercenary ignores him, then shouts something at the nearest crew and stalks away toward the middle of the ship. The crew bursts into action. As he goes, the color of the sky distracts me. I look up. It has suddenly turned a sickly shade of green and gray. Fat drops of rain have already started to fall. I frown at Violetta. Wasn’t the day clear and blue just moments earlier?
But Violetta’s eyes stay fixed on the mercenary’s back. Her eyes are wide. “An Elite,” she mouths to me.
Magiano hops onto the ship’s railing to look back at the harbor. There, several thin caravelas flying the Night King’s flag look ready to sail in our direction. I brace myself for a hunt.
But they don’t get a chance to follow us. Because the skies open.
The ominous drizzle suddenly turns into a torrent of rain. It is a blanket that whips across the deck, stunning me with icy pellets. I shield myself with my arms; beside me, Violetta does the same. Enormous waves rock the ship. Somewhere, the mercenary shouts for Magiano to seek cover for us.
“Happy to oblige,” Magiano mutters. He guides us to the stern, where we huddle beneath a cloth canopy draped over crates. Once we’re settled, Magiano darts away again to the mercenary’s side. We look on as the crew rushes to make sure the ropes latching us to our baliras are firmly in place.
The mercenary concentrates on the sky as it turns steadily blacker, until the harbor looks like it has been swallowed whole by midnight. The soldiers’ ships seem to hesitate by the piers. There is no doubt that if they try to sail out into such a tempest, the ocean would splinter the boats to pieces. Still, one of them gives chase. Violetta and I hang grimly on to the canopy’s ropes.
But the mercenary seems unconcerned. He focuses his attention on the oncoming ship, then looks up at the sky, as if searching for something. Rain pelts his face.
A bolt of lightning strikes the approaching ship. I jump. There is an earsplitting crack as the ship’s mast splits in two, then erupts in flames. Shouts and screams come from on board, carried over to us by the wind even from our distance—and then the sheets of rain blanket the seascape again, obscuring the wrecked ship from view. I blink water out of my eye in shock.
The mercenary smiles a little, then sighs in relief.
As I watch him, a memory slowly emerges. It’s of the day Raffaele first tested me, when he told me the story of an Elite who failed to prove himself worthy of the Daggers …