Chapter 44

A fter everything he saw, Lytos agreed to withhold the actual events of what happened to the remaining warships. Conducting a mass burial at sea, we spread word to the fleet that the creatures we fought had lured them to their deaths. Every inch of me dripped with disgust, but I held it together, putting on a stone face and watching as the northern currents carried their bodies home. We'd lost nearly our entire crew, and most that remained were seriously wounded. Our able soldiers were spread thin.

Each warship struggled to maintain their general upkeep. By extending watch and oar duties to account for missing bodies, discontent spread like a brutal plague. Grumbles of mutiny whispered their way through the dark crevices beneath the waterline as exhausted men rubbed their aching muscles and rested their salt-crusted eyes.

Lytos had placed Aryx's body on the bow, draping a golden cloth over his vacant expression. I couldn't bring myself to go up there or to even look at it from the aft deck.

I refused to let him drift alone at sea. Once this was over, we'd bring him home, lay him to rest beneath the green pastures beside the stables.

That's what he'd want.

And so, we sailed on, a rage in our bellies like a kindling fire. We were sick with vengeful thoughts as the memories of lives lost hung heavy in the ocean air. With every mile closer, my hatred grew, devouring my thoughts, until all I could think of was slicing the Spring Queen's head clean off her pretty, slender neck.

She caused this war. She was the reason we were here. It was easier to hate than it was to grieve, and so I did.

After the sun set on another full day of sailing, Elder's Island came into view. It was time to divide our fleet. Hermia guided her ships west, while we continued east. Lytos remained by my side at every waking moment. Not out of loyalty, I imagined, but out of distrust. He kept a constant, watchful eye, waiting for the moment I broke again.

The demon, with a taste of control, clawed at my mind with a fierceness I'd never felt before. My rage stoked her fire, fueling her power, locked away in brittle chains. All my attention shifted to keeping her buried deep in the pit of my core. Constant reminders of slaughtered men and blank, death-clouded eyes were the only way to keep her at bay. She had injected the toxic taste of bloodshed, like a poison, into my veins, and I found it harder and harder to envision the future I was fighting for. Without Aryx, I was nothing. He'd been the link to a life outside of death. With that link severed, I floated away, lost and isolated in the violence of monstrosity.

When our ships neared the eye line of sentries, Altair appeared on our aft deck.

"Lady Elpis," he said, crossing his arms over his chest, "are your men ready? Once I've summoned these storms, it won't be safe in deep water anymore. You'll need to take refuge below the cliff side."

I nodded against a clenched jaw. Our crew was already struggling. I wasn't so sure we could handle the raging fury of an immense squall. Even so, we had no choice. We'd come this far and our only option was to push on.

Altair closed his eyes, breathing in the steady breeze that filled our sails. Glorious golden beams rippled from his chest as the surrounding waters stilled to a halt. He rose into the air, seeming to float above the deck. As he made his ascent, the orb of light around him brightened and burned like the midday sun. A hush fell over warships as we all watched the immortal hold the strength of the seas in the palm of his hand.

His skin ignited in flames as he stretched his palms into the sky. Shielding my eyes from the intensity of the heat now radiating through his flesh, I watched as the immortal took his true form. He was the embodiment of the sun. Summer heat incarnate.

The world shuddered at the sheer force of him. Wind howled against the spirals of power emitting from his strong, muscular arms. Waves thrashed across our bow, growing in size with each raging swell. The clouds above darkened, suppressing even the most minuscule of light ike a curtain drawn against the sky. Pressure plummeted from the air, in its place came a damp smell of thunder sharp on the nose.

Altair rose higher, encouraging the elements to unleash their fury. A crack of lightning zipped through the sky as the storm built around us. The boom of thunder, as deafening as a wrathful cannon, charged through the sky.

A cry for the impending battle.

The air thickened until it begged for its saturated release. Like a vicious symphony, the sky pleaded to its conductor for the final note of this wild crescendo.

With a snap of his finger, Altair freed the storm. The sky split open. Rain spewed from the heavens, creating a veil over the horizon that stretched infinitely across the sky.

"You must go! Now!" Altair called, his voice bellowed with another jolt of thunder, shaking the bones between muscle tissue.

"Oars! At the ready!" the oarsman commanded.

Like the heartbeat of the ship, the drum below decks pounded in rhythm. The grunts of sailors sent shocks between the ship's timbers as we picked up our speed. Hurtling through the waves, we raced the storm. Wind shrieked through the masts. Rain drops fired like small bullets through the air. Flashes of lightning cracked across the sky.

Chaos broke out as sailors bustled about the deck, uncoiling lines and raising our sails to increase speed. The oarsman barked orders at his crew. Below deck, the rowers heaved their massive wooden blades in a synchronized frenzy that hurtled us forward, closer and closer to our destination. Wave crests met pine in violent outbursts of salty spray, washing away in the rain as fast as they collided with the deck. I clung to the starboard railing, steadying myself against the fierce sway of the hull.

A massive swell sunk the leeward side of the deck to the waterline, sending men sliding down the incline and rolling into the dark waves. Feeling my feet slip out from under me, I dug my nails into the railing, the wash of the sea snapping at my worn, leather boots.

"Take hold!" the oarsman roared, straining against his oar as its handle whipped against the aft deck. The timbers groaned in protest as the warship turned into the oncoming swells. My stomach plummeted into my heels as the rail raised into the air, sending me catapulting to the opposing side. The cliffs grew closer as the squall engulfed us.

Through the eyes of a sentry, our fleet was merely a blur, hidden beneath a thick wall of dark, grey cloud, approaching the shoreline with unearthly speed. Under the blanket of darkness, we moored, stowing our sails with trembling urgency, against the towering cliffs.

Our final preparations for war had begun .