Chapter 8

Binh came for him hours later, when the sun he couldn't see would be high in the sky, and she didn't come alone. Farren smiled at Nathaniel from the corridor where the star god stood behind the warden, dressed like a sailor, their Leviathan tattoo hidden beneath a linen shirt. Binh did not seem to notice, or perhaps she didn't care, who had joined her wanderings. Wardens were nameless and starless, or so all the teachings went.

He wondered how true that would be after this war.

"Akeheni wants to see you. Bring your gear," Binh said.

Nathaniel nodded jerkily. If they wanted him to bring what he'd boarded with, perhaps they weren't going to do him harm. Treaty or no treaty, having a rionetka attempt to murder an Uri'ka did cast doubt on his situation. He could understand why the Tovanians might not want him on their ship-city any longer. Their reasoning for sending Binh made sense as well. Wardens were best suited to this kind of threat. They handled the walking dead, after all.

Binh waited patiently while Nathaniel hauled out his small travel trunk from beneath the bolted-down bed and stuffed only the necessities into the rucksack stored within. The rest could be tossed overboard for all he cared. Shrugging the straps over his shoulders, Nathaniel followed Binh and Farren out of the room.

They traversed the ship-city to a higher level but not quite as high as the captain's deck. Officer's quarters, Nathaniel realized once they made it to the central area of the ship-city, judging by the paint on the walls. The sailors on guard duty in the corridors they walked down practically bristled with weapons. Farren went seemingly unrecognized, even if Nathaniel was hyperaware of the star god following at his heels. He bit his tongue against the questions he wanted to ask, knowing he had no right to speak them in this place that was, for all intents and purposes, a foreign country.

Binh eventually came to a stop at the end of a corridor, the iron door there guarded by a tall, broad sailor who looked strong enough to lift a Zip gun without assistance. Not that one would fit in the corridor. Binh spoke in rapid-fire Tovanian, and after a moment, the sailor turned to push open the door just enough to speak through the crack. After a moment, he shoved it wider and gestured for them to enter.

Nathaniel stepped into a brightly decorated room, the port windows providing enough illumination that the gas lamp lights were cold. Everything was securely bolted down or locked into place, but the space was decorated more in the way of a home than an office. He could see an open door to a bedroom beyond the receiving suite, a place Akeheni should be but wasn't. Instead, the Uri'ka was ensconced on the small sofa, shirt off, her breast band on clear display as the magician finished tracing the red and swollen—but miraculously closed—knife wound with her clarion crystal–tipped wand.

Nathaniel hastily jerked his gaze away, cheeks heating. "Apologies. I didn't realize?—"

Akeheni cut him off with a raspy bark of laughter. "We don't stand on manners like that. None of us go in the water clothed when we swim. Skin isn't anything to be ashamed about. If it was, I wouldn't have summoned you."

Nathaniel politely kept his gaze averted. "I am at your disposal."

He heard a rustle of clothing, a murmur of Tovanian he couldn't understand, and then Binh was nudging him toward the chair. Nathaniel slid his rucksack off his shoulders and placed it on the floor before sitting, sparing a swift glance at Akeheni. She'd leaned back on a stash of pillows, grimacing from pain. She waved off whatever the magician said next, pinning Nathaniel with her fierce attention for a moment. Then her gaze slid away, focusing on the star god standing at his back. "My guiding star."

"If you could refrain from getting stabbed while I ferry the Ashionen back to land, that would be wonderful," Farren said lightly, their words causing Nathaniel to jerk in surprise. "Your people need you for the upcoming battle."

Akeheni snorted. "It was not my intention to be stabbed in the first place. How goes hunting the rionetkas?"

"Three-quarters of the crew have been checked, and all of the Ashionen soldiers as well. We found two of your people so far who have been turned into rionetkas, excluding the one killed in the depth charges hold," Binh answered.

Akeheni's gaze became hooded, the look in her eyes a mix of anger and grief. "Can you wardens save them how you did with Nathaniel?"

"I can't offer that."

"It's your people who created the threat."

"One traitorous warden shouldn't paint the whole as bad," Nathaniel cut in. "And what Ksenia did to me wasn't a fix. Not how you wish it to be."

He could admit that now, so long after the damage was done. No one would give him back the heart he'd been born with, and it was magic and alchemy that let him still walk his road these days, but he knew there was no guarantee it would last. That was a false hope he would give no one.

Akeheni sighed tiredly, closing her eyes for a brief moment before opening them again. "My people believe you brought the threat with you. I need them to focus on the threat in our waters and not a perceived one within the ranks. We'll be hitting the Daijal ships of the line tomorrow, and a sister ship-city has already warned of Urovan submersibles in our area. I need you off my ship-city before then. For your safety as much as my people's."

"Of course."

"Binh will accompany you and escort you through the poison fields in Solaria." At Nathaniel's surprised look, she quirked him a tight smile. "Did you think we'd abandon you in Daijal?"

"Ah, no," he said with as much polite blandness as he could muster.

"The ship-cities not tasked with breaking the blockade and getting Ashionen troops to the shores for the fight at New Haven are patrolling Solaria's coast. I will take you to one, and they will bring you to shore. My sister wishes you back in Ashion to keep your queen from fretting," Farren said.

Akeheni levered herself up off the pillows, leaning forward a little, her wound clearly paining her despite the healing done to it. "Our ship-city wasn't the only one who suffered an attack from rionetkas, and the same threat is happening on the continent. The Daijal army has split, sending half its force back to New Haven via steam trains, according to the allied command. Eimarille activated the rionetkas because of that threat. You were the only one who did not succumb to the assassination order."

Nathaniel's mouth went desert dry at the implications. He craned his head around, unable to help meeting Farren's gaze, the star god's attention like a heavy weight. "Did any target Caris?"

Farren shrugged with one shoulder. "Aaralyn is not worried."

Akeheni snorted at that, muttering something in Tovanian that made Farren laugh. The Eclipse Star stepped around Nathaniel's armchair to approach her, leaning down to grasp her chin in their hand and bend their head. Farren pressed their nose to hers, foreheads touching, and Akeheni closed her eyes, shoulders slumping.

"The waves will guide you," Farren promised when they straightened.

It felt like a blessing to Nathaniel, a promise, and Akeheni seemed at peace with it. Farren turned to face him, gesturing with one slim hand for him to rise. Nathaniel hastily stood, grabbing his rucksack and slinging it over one shoulder. Farren headed for the door, Binh at their heels, and Nathaniel would have followed, but he hesitated, feet rooted where he stood. He looked back at Akeheni, seeing the Uri'ka looking back.

"Thank you," he said. "For your people's support. For the risks you're taking. For all of us."

He meant the words on behalf of himself as much as for Caris because he knew the war would be going differently without this second front the Tovanians were opening up.

"Maricol is meant for all of us, not ruled over by one person. We all owe it to each other to fight," Akeheni said.

Nathaniel turned and bowed deeply to her, giving her respect in the way of an Ashionen. Then he left, following a star god and a warden down to the belly of the ship-city. Sound echoed oddly through layers of iron as they descended. No one questioned their presence, and those sailors they passed sketched absent nods in Farren's direction, as if the star god was just another crew member rather than their nation's guiding star.

Eventually, they ended up in the hold where the submersibles were kept in anchor bays, one already pulled out and ready to launch on the wide ramp that led to the sea. The deep thrum of the engines was loud, the heavy hit of the waves against the iron hull a counterpoint to it. The ship-city's massive propellers churned the sea in the wake stretching behind it.

Sailors had readied the submersible for launch at the top of the ramp, a sleek vessel that didn't look like anything Nathaniel had ever seen before. He desperately wished he could take a look at the engine, but he knew better than to ask. They were under a time crunch, so when Farren gestured for him to climb up to the top of the submersible to the open hatch there, he did so hurriedly.

Binh had gone down first, the space inside almost claustrophobic. If Nathaniel's heart wasn't made of clockwork gears, he rather thought it would be beating faster. Farren followed after him, pausing long enough to haul the hatch closed behind them and twist the wheel to lock and seal it. Then they slid down the ladder with a casual ease that spoke of doing it so many times it was second nature.

"We'll dive after the launch, and it'll be at least a day before we surface. My children packed supplies, and there's a berth you can share in the rear for rest," Farren said as they moved forward toward the pilot's seat in front of the port window there.

"You take the berth. I'll sleep near the controls that launch the torpedoes," Binh said to Nathaniel.

Farren laughed, bright and amused as they flipped some toggles on the controls, one hand settled on a lever. "If you are worried about my brother's children finding us in the deep, they will not."

Binh ignored their words and got settled on the secondary seat behind the pilot's and angled off to the side. Nathaniel stood in the space behind both seats, wrapping both hands around the handle welded into the top of her seat for support. He braced himself as Farren signaled a sailor in the hold through the port window and got an answering gesture back. A grating noise echoed through the hull, and the submersible jerked forward on the skids that led to the ramp. His stomach lurched as the submersible tipped over the edge and down the ramp, the water rushing up to meet them. They hit it with a splash that sent a wave over the port window, blinding them, but only for a moment.

The submersible sank beneath the waves, its engine humming to life as Farren maneuvered the levers in their hands to guide them into the deep.