I see Farley first, her golden hair gleaming against the gray of battle. Binoculars dangle around her neck, forgotten for a moment. She barks orders in steady rhythm, gesturing between her officers. She doesn’t seem to notice the men stacking up crates, building a meager wall to protect their general. Some of the tension in my chest releases, and I breathe a bit easier.
Julian is here as well, to my relief. He and Queen Anabel hang close, both of them transfixed by the battleships in the harbor. Their stare is unwavering, and Anabel clutches Julian’s arm, her knuckles white against his sleeve.
The sight unsettles me, but I can’t say why.
“Where do you need us?” I clip, entering their circle as calmly as I can.
Farley rounds on me, sputtering, and I brace for the inevitable rebuke. “What are you doing here?” she snaps. “Is something wrong in New Town—”
“New Town is won,” Ella offers, crossing her arms at my side.
Rafe nods. “Put us to work here, General.”
“It’s Iris Cygnet out there,” Farley snarls, gesturing to the ships. Then she hesitates, teeth on edge. It makes me uneasy.
I put a hand to her arm. Maven’s queen is formidable, but not unbeatable. “Iris doesn’t scare me. Farley, let us help—”
Out in the harbor, a burst of red flame runs the length of the fourth ship, moving strangely. A massive, unnatural wave rises up to meet it, breaking across the deck. Another curl of fire erupts, spiraling in the air as more tongues of water twist and spray. They move together, an elemental dance that could only be the work of two very specific people.
My heart drops in my chest, frozen with fear. And fury.
The sky turns black above the harbor, clouds re-forming in an instant. Purple flashes deep within, matching the rhythm of my beating heart.
“What is he doing?” I snarl to no one, taking a step toward the water. Something snaps apart inside me. Any objective I might have had, all thoughts of the city, disappear in an instant.
“Easy, Mare,” I hear Ella say, trying to catch my arm, but I shove her off. I have to get to that ship. I have to stop him. “You don’t have the aim to help him from here!” she shouts, her voice fading. I’m faster in a crowd, more agile. They can’t keep up.
I work my way to the water’s edge. Desperation might swallow me whole. Cal is fighting a nymph, a powerful nymph. His greatest weakness. It terrifies me.
Boats shuttle back and forth across the harbor, the empty ones returning to load more soldiers. I watch with my teeth gritted so tightly they might shatter. Too slow.
“Teleporters!” I shout, desperate and in vain. The sound of the guns all but drowns me out. “Teleporters!” I scream again. No one comes running.
The boats might be slow-moving, but they’re my best chance. I have a foot in one when Farley catches up to me, seizing me by the shoulders. She all but drags me backward, my boots splashing through the shallow water of the docks.
I shrug her off, twisting with motions I learned a long time ago in the alleys of the Stilts. She stumbles but catches herself, hands outstretched. Her face flushes scarlet.
“Get me on that ship, Farley.” My voice shakes with anger. I feel like I might explode. “I’m not asking for your permission.”
“Okay,” she concedes, her eyes wide with a fear of her own. “Okay—”
A flash out on the water stills us both, and Farley’s words die on her lips. We watch in stunned silence as a succession of explosive rounds pummel into Iris’s ship, rocking the craft. Waves rise up to stabilize it, even as the explosions spread, red and angry, each an inferno reaching skyward. Smoke billows, black and reeking, as another wave pulls over the ship. Soldiers fall from the deck, splashing into the harbor below. From this distance, I can’t distinguish their uniforms. Red, green, or blue, I can’t tell.
But his armor flashes brightly against the fire, impossible to miss.
Without thinking, I rip the binoculars off Farley’s neck and press them to my eyes.
I feel frozen by what I see, rooted, unable to move.
Iris dodges a fireball, dipping with liquid motion, faster than Tiberias ever was. She dances out of his reach, circling even as the ship beneath them moves, churning its way toward the mouth of the harbor and the open ocean. The valiant, stupid Calore pursues.
Another wave hits him head-on, crashing blue and white with the full force of Iris Cygnet’s power. My heart stops in my chest as I imagine him crushed against the metal ship, drowning before my eyes.
He falls, his armor broken, splintered by battle, his scarlet cape torn to pieces. For such a large man, Tiberias makes such a tiny splash.
My vision spots, hazy with every emotion as my own brain overloads. Everything narrows, edged with black, until I can’t hear the crowd around me. Even Farley’s voice fades, her barking orders disappearing. I want to scream but find my teeth welded together. If I move, if I speak, all my restraint will disappear too. The lightning will have no mercy. All I can do is stare, stand, and pray to whoever might be listening.
Warm hands hold my shoulders as the electricons surround me, close enough to react if I lose control. Blue, green, white. Ella, Rafe, Tyton.
Cal, Cal, Cal.
Survive.
Nothing matters but the water, blue-and-white waves foaming with battle. Most of the soldiers who fell from the ships are still alive, bobbing up and down. But they aren’t wearing armor. They aren’t terrified of water. They didn’t face Iris Cygnet and lose. The glare from the sun makes it impossible to see much, but I squint anyway, until I can’t stand it anymore. Until I can’t open my eyes. The binoculars drop from my hands and smash.
The chaos on the water’s edge grows, until every soldier stands in wait, breathless to see the fate of the Calore prince. When they gasp as one, I force my eyes open and turn. Tyton’s grip on me turns viselike, his fingers pressed against my neck. He’ll knock me out if he has to, to protect everyone else from my sorrow.
I don’t know who dragged Tiberias out of the water, or which teleporter brought him to the shore. I don’t watch the healer as she bends, terrified, trying to save his life. I don’t care about Iris, still out in the harbor, making her escape. I can only look at him, even though I never want to see him like this. Each passing second is a ruin. I’ve been shot; I’ve been stabbed; I’ve been hollowed out. This is a thousand times worse.
Silver skin is a colder color than our own, as if drained of warmth. But I’ve never seen a Silver look like he does. His lips are blue, his cheeks like glowing moonlight, every inch of him soaking or bleeding. His eyes are shut. He isn’t breathing. Tiberias looks like a corpse. He could be a corpse.
Time stretches. I live in this cursed second, trapped, doomed to watch little pieces of his life ebb away. Kilorn survived in New Town. Will I lose Tiberias in Harbor Bay?
The healer puts her palms to his chest, sweat beading on her brow.
I pray to any god who might exist. To anyone who might listen.
Then I beg.
Water sprays from his mouth as he coughs violently, his eyes flying open at the same time. I almost collapse, and only the electricons keep me standing against the sudden rush. Gasping, I put a hand to my mouth to stifle the sound, only to feel tears on both my cheeks.
The crowd of people around him surges, Anabel moving to kneel at his side. Julian is there too. They croon over their boy, smoothing his hair, bidding him to lie still as the healer continues her work.