“Don’t lose control again,” Violetta whispers. After such a long silence, her words sound deafening. She doesn’t even look at me. Instead, her eyes stay fixed on the grating above us.
I turn up to stare at it too. I keep waiting for that strange, hazy pressure to hit me again, like it did in Merroutas—but this time, my strength holds steady, and I keep a firm grip on my powers. “I won’t,” I whisper back.
The voices are very faint. Through two layers of wooden floors, all I can make out are muffled human sounds and the subtle vibrations of boots on the deck. I sense a general unease in the energy of the ship’s crew. Violetta’s head turns as the voices travel from one end of the deck to the other.
“They’re going to come belowdecks,” she whispers after a while. And sure enough, no sooner have the words left her mouth than we hear the stomp of boots on the ladder leading downward. The voices abruptly become louder.
Now I can hear the soldiers speaking to one another. My fear rises as they draw steadily closer overhead.
In the mix, Magiano’s animated voice suddenly appears. “And, why, the last time I was in Campagnia, I fell in love with your wines. Do you know I’ve never been drunker? I—”
An Inquisitor cuts him off with an exasperated sigh. “When did you leave Merroutas?”
“A week ago.”
“A lie, boy. No ship takes a week to reach our shores from Merroutas.”
Sergio’s more reasonable voice now sounds out. “We docked in Dumor first, to drop off some cargo,” he says.
“I see no Dumorian stamps on your ship. You left Merroutas recently, I wager. Well, some new laws have come into effect here in Campagnia. The Inquisition deems all arriving ships subject to search.
Malfettos
from other countries are no longer allowed in this city, you see.” He pauses for a moment, as if to peer closer at Magiano. His eyes must not be slitted, because the soldier steps back again. “So if anyone in your crew is a
malfetto
, I recommend you tell us now.”
“We have none that I can think of, sir.”
“And you wouldn’t happen to have any stowaways?”
“You’re welcome to search,” Magiano pipes up. “
Malfettos
—a pile of trouble, aren’t they? I still count us lucky
that we’d already left Merroutas by the time the incidents down at their pier happened. You heard about that by now, haven’t you?”
I glance at Violetta in the darkness. She stares back. Her mouth puckers into a word.
Ready?
Slowly, I weave a web of invisibility across us, changing us into the slants of light on an empty closet floor, the dark grooves of an empty closet’s walls. The voices and footsteps draw steadily closer, until they sound like they’re right on top of us. I peer at the grating through the darkness.
The bottom of a boot suddenly appears over it, then another. They’re directly overhead now. I hold my breath.
“Anyone else on board this ship?” the Inquisitor asks. He’s turned toward who I assume must be Sergio. “Is the entire crew here?”
“All accounted for, sir,” Sergio replies. “Supplies are on the lowest deck.”
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.
We hurry out of the cabin and into the dark corridor, then up the steps leading to the next level. When we finally reach the others, I skid to a halt. Several of the crew are inspecting the Inquisitors tied up on the ground, while Sergio and another man are securing bonds on another one. He looks up at us. There is wariness in his eyes as he regards me.
“I never witnessed what you did to the Night King,” Sergio says. “But I saw the looks on these Inquisitors’ faces when you attacked them. That
was
you, wasn’t it? What did you do?”
I swallow, then explain what my illusion over them had been. My voice is calm and steady.
The other crewmember helping Sergio now looks at me. “We were all a bit skeptical of you when you first came on
board.” He regards me carefully. “I’ve never seen such fright on grown men’s faces.”
This must be one of Sergio’s fellow mercenaries. I nod, returning his stare, unsure of what it means. Now I notice that several of the others are staring at me too, as if seeing me for the first time. I glance around, searching their expressions, then let myself dwell on the Inquisitors moaning on the ground. If they hadn’t recognized me earlier, they all seem to know who I am now. My gaze shifts from one to the next, settling finally on the one lying closest to me, a young soldier who still has some bewildered innocence left in his eyes. My energy feeds on their fear, strengthening and replenishing itself.
If the Inquisition is searching Campagnia like this, they must have expanded their efforts out from Estenzia. Does that mean Teren will be here, looking for us too? Does that mean that he is starting to round up all
malfettos
here?
“Where’s Magiano?” I finally say.
Sergio nods to the ladder. He waves for us to follow him. We make our way up the ladder and onto the deck of the ship, where Magiano is waiting for us. The Campagnia harbor draws close, while behind us, the Inquisition’s ship stays where it is, quiet.
Magiano has his hands tucked into his pockets. When he hears us approach, he leans toward me and gives a casual nod toward land. “We will continue to sail into harbor,” he says, “and leave the Inquisition’s ship to drift at sea. By the time anyone onshore figures out that something has gone wrong, we’ll have long dispersed into the city.”
“What about the Inquisitors tied up below?” Violetta asks.
Magiano exchanges a glance with Sergio, then looks at me. His eyes are serious for a moment. “Yes, what
should
we do about them?” he asks. “No matter what, we’ll undoubtedly bring the Inquisition’s wrath down on us. They’ll hunt us relentlessly.”
His words ring in my mind, echoing in the wrong way, and the echo awakens the whispers in my mind again. I can feel their little claws against my consciousness, eager to hear my answer. Down below, I can hear some of the Inquisitors still moaning and struggling. It sounds as if they are ready to beg for their lives. Without answering Magiano, I walk back over to the ladder leading down and stare into the shadows.
At first, I think I’ll spare them.
But then the whispers say,
Why worry about the Inquisition’s wrath? You came back to this country to exact your revenge on them. You shouldn’t be the one to fear them anymore. They should fear you.
There is a moment of heavy silence. Magiano watches me with an unreadable expression. I think back to the Inquisitors’ faces. Some of them had cringed away from me, while others had tears streaking their cheeks. Their white uniforms all blend into one in my thoughts. All I can see are the same men who had once so unceremoniously tied me to the stake and thrown fire at my feet. How many have they killed? How many will they go on to kill?
Strike first.
And with that, a dark cloud starts to fill my insides again,
and my heart hardens. I look at Magiano. “I’m not afraid of the Inquisition,” I say. Then I nod at Sergio. “Tell your men to kill them. Make it quick and clean.” Violetta shoots me a sharp glance. I wait, perhaps defiantly, for her to say something against my decision … but she doesn’t. She swallows hard and looks down. After a while, she nods her agreement. As I talk, I can hear the whispers saying the words with me, so we are in chorus. Their voices remind me of my father’s.
“Let the youngest one live,” I finish. “When the Inquisition finds him, he can tell them who did this, and how I made them feel.”
Magiano’s eyes slit a little at me. There’s something admiring in his gaze that mingles with something … unsettled. I can’t quite figure out the expression. He glances back at the nearing harbor. He lets out a sigh, then leaves us to walk toward the bow.
Sergio is still smiling. “In that case, we’d better be careful in Campagnia. You have taken on a challenging adversary.”
“And are you and your men going to help us take on that adversary?” I ask.
It’s the question that has been lingering between us since we stepped on board this ship. Sergio looks at me, then around at some of the other crew on deck. Finally, he leans over. “We help whoever can get us the most gold,” he whispers. “And right now, that’s you, isn’t it?”
That is a yes.
Something soars in my chest. I don’t want to ask what happens if we fail to take the throne and overthrow the Inquisition. Instead, I decide to revel in his words.
I turn my back as Sergio walks over to the ladder and shouts a command down to the other mercenaries. The Inquisitors below let out muffled sobs behind their bonds. Their fear bubbles up to the deck in a thick cloud. It makes me tremble.