More muttering between the soldiers. I stiffen as footsteps now sound out from our deck. Moments later, the door to the dark supply room opens, and someone approaches our closet. I tighten our invisibility illusion. The door flies open.
An Inquisitor squints straight at us. Through us. He looks bored. One of his hands taps restlessly against the hilt of his sword. Violetta’s hand shakes harder, but she doesn’t make a sound.
He peers through us and around the closet for a moment before leaving the door ajar and wandering around to search the rest of the room. His cloak billows past us. I continue to hold my breath. If he tries to step inside this closet after the rest of his search, and he bumps into our bodies, I will have to kill him.
Above us, Magiano’s voice pipes up again. “You’re searching the wrong ship,” he says. His tone has changed from lighthearted innocence to something ominous. “How do I know this?” He digs around in his pocket for a moment before pulling something out and holding it up to the light. Even from down here, I can see the object glinting. It is the pin he stole from the Night King. “Do you see the crest engraved on the side of this beauty? This is the Night King’s very own emblem. We are a crew of his protected fleet from Merroutas, and none are more aggrieved than us by news of his death. But even in death, he is a wealthier and more powerful man than any of you could ever hope to be. If you dare kill one of our crew, just in the futile hopes of finding a fugitive that’s probably making his way as far from Kenettra as possible, I can guarantee you that you will be answering to your Lead Inquisitor and your queen.”
A taunting note enters Magiano’s voice. “After all, think for a moment, if your mind is capable of that. Why would a fugitive who fled Kenettra hide on board a ship that’s now trying to dock back in Kenettra?” He holds his arms out in an exaggerated shrug.
I can’t help feeling a certain gratitude to Magiano for defending us like this. He could have turned us in for a good price. I shake my head. He’s not doing it for you. He’s doing it for himself, for money and survival. Not for you.
For an instant, I think that the Inquisitors will take Magiano’s words to heart. My stare stays on the Inquisitor studying our hiding spot.
Then Sergio’s boots shuffle across the grating. I look up, hoping my illusion doesn’t waver. One of the other soldiers has grabbed Sergio around the neck and pressed a knife to his waist. In a flash, Sergio slips out of the grip and whips out a blade of his own. From down here, I can see the edge flashing in the light. The other Inquisitors draw their weapons. Magiano lets out a groan and an incoherent curse as he takes out a dagger too, and together, they stand off against the Inquisitors.
“A good story,” the leader of the soldiers says. He takes a step closer to Sergio, blade pointed at him. “But we have a description of the ship that the Night King’s soldiers believe their fugitives sailed away on. It is undoubtedly yours. Congratulations.” The soldier raises his voice. “Show your face, illusion worker, or some up here may start losing their heads.”
Violetta looks at me. Her dark eyes shine. If only we’d stayed above deck with the others, I could have disguised our faces and attacked the soldiers before they ever boarded the ship. But now there is an Inquisitor standing right in front of us, the closet door still ajar, staring through us as if he might see something any moment.
The Inquisitor standing in front of us looks up and draws his blade. In doing so, he bumps Violetta hard. Violetta stumbles back with a grunt—it is all the Inquisitor needs to look sharply back at us. He narrows his eyes. Then he lifts his sword to chop at the air in the closet. At us.
Thoughts flash through my mind like lightning. I could just stop this Inquisitor and save Violetta and myself. If we flee this ship without uttering a sound, we could leave Sergio, his crew, and Magiano to handle the Inquisition. When we dock, we could simply sneak off the ship and make our way undetected into the city. Forget about my newfound Elites and protect ourselves.
But instead, I clench my teeth. Sergio is one of mine now. And if I hope to have allies at my back, I’ll have to stand up for them.
Violetta shoots me a wide-eyed look as the Inquisitor’s blade flies toward us. That is all the encouragement I need to unleash my energy.
The Inquisitor suddenly stops his attack in midair. His eyes bulge. He trembles, then opens his mouth into a silent scream as I reach for him and weave around him the illusion of a thousand threads of pain. His sword clatters to the floor as he falls to his knees. I erase our invisibility—I see the shock in his eyes as we suddenly appear before him.
Violetta crouches down to grab the sword. As she points it at him with shaking hands, I turn my attention to the standoff above us. My energy whips out at the Inquisitors there. The threads latch on to them, painting the illusion of hooks digging deep into their skin, yanking them down into the ground and beyond.
They scream in unison. Sergio seems stricken for a split second—but then he snaps out of it right away. He hops over their writhing bodies and attacks the closest Inquisitor who has headed down the passageway at him. The clang of blades rings out. Magiano crouches down to the fallen Inquisitors and starts to tie their hands as quickly as he can.
“Let’s go,” I say through gritted teeth. We step out of our hiding place. The Inquisitor on the ground makes a weak attempt to grab Violetta’s ankles, but she yanks herself out of the way, then turns the sword around in her hands and brings the hilt of it down on the soldier’s jaw. He goes limp.
“Nicely done,” I say, giving my sister a tight smile. A year ago, I would never have expected her to be bold enough for that. Violetta takes a deep breath and gives me an anxious look.