Draewulf utters a deep, guttural growl and strides toward him and, faster than should be possible, yanks the guard off his feet.
No! I gasp, but my grabbing for him is too late. The monster’s already lifted him by the Bron jacket and shoved him toward the railing. He flips him over it and the guard cries out, but the wind carries the sound away, a lone voice fading as his body flutters and floats to the water.
We’re up high enough that I don’t hear the splash when his body hits, but it’s big enough that I know he’s instantly dead.
The next second I’m reaching for my blades, which aren’t there, then I’m throwing myself at Draewulf, pounding his chest. I shove his arms, his shoulders.
His response is a backhand across my cheek.
I teeter at the force but don’t fall—I’ve been struck enough times to know how to take a hit. But my eyes burn all the same. I grit my teeth and watch the guard’s head sink below the waves.
Draewulf grips my gimpy arm and a flash of disgust ignites in his gaze. Followed by a hardening that makes my veins burn. My hand curls beneath his as I will it to scald him with a slew of ice from my fingertips. Nothing happens but I’m clenching his shirt anyway, because I don’t know how to let go as a stream of curses lashes out of my mouth and whips down to share its saltiness with those same waves that consumed the guard.
“I hate you,” I murmur. But my voice is the the broken chirp of a bird.
He laughs without mirth and pushes me off like some girl from a favor house. “You’ve lost already. Don’t debase yourself more than you already have.”
He smooths his shirt just as an enormous horn sounds out above us, causing me to cover my ears and him to jump. He spins around and I follow suit to see land in the distance, just where the sun is peeking out along the purple-ribboned edge of storm clouds and horizon. Below it sits a city gleaming with red, orange, and pink reflections from the sun.
“Welcome to the beginning of your end,” Draewulf snarls behind me.
CHAPTER 13
THE HORN BLASTS AGAIN AND BY THE TIME I TURN back, Eogan is disappearing round the corner and all five delegates are tumbling onto the deck followed by the two Faelen bodyguards. I’m still reeling as the delegates’ delight carries above the ship’s droning. Murmurs of, “Will you look at that? It’s fantastic!” and “Look at those warboats!”
They’re pointing at the stretch of coastline between us and the city. I wipe the rain and fury from my face and realize they’re ogling the same boats I pushed back from Faelen. Large. Maneuverable. Painted in red and black with an aura that screams “death” to anyone approaching. Here and there undamaged Bron airships loom above them like giant flags strapped to the boats’ bows and sterns, sporting those painted-on dragons.
“Are you all right?” Rasha slips in beside me. “I mean, I see you’re still alive.”
“Where were you?” I hiss. “I had Draewulf alone!”
“I was stuck arguing with Lord Wellimton.” She frowns. “I saw your guards come in but they looked confused.”
“Never mind that.” I shake my head, my lungs feeling like they’re shriveling. I stare at her until I’ve got her full attention and I’m not sure whether to laugh or whimper. “I saw Eogan.”
Her eyes widen.
“He forced aside Draewulf so he could speak to me. It was fully him, but . . . then it was Draewulf and he killed the guard so fast I couldn’t stop him. He said he’d do the same to the delegates if I interfered again.”
Her eyes have grown to the size of hornets’ eggs. “He did what?” She moves her stare from me to behind us where Draewulf disappeared. “How did Eogan find that much control? And how could . . . how . . .? Did he say anything that could help us?”
I glance around. At the delegates. At the guards. I’m fairly certain the Elegy 96 message was meant for my ears alone. “He asked me to kill him,” I say softly.
“Pardon?” Her shocked tone draws the attention of the entire group. “Was that all he said?” she whispers.
“I asked if he knew Draewulf’s plans but he didn’t. Although he could sense enough to say it’s not good and killing them both is the only option.”
“How not good?”
“Something along the lines of ‘we’re all going to die.’ ”
Behind us, Myles chuckles. “Tell me something we didn’t know. Next time how about asking a few more specificsss.”
I glare. “He was pretty specific about you. And I’ll take my knives back now, seeing as you’ve nothing better to do.”
“You’ll have to check your luggage bag, which is—”
“Nym.” Rasha snaps her finger twice in front of me. “Did Eogan say how you could kill him?”
I swerve my gaze back to the shoreline and purse my lips before muttering, “A knife to the back of the neck.”