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.