If Violetta were here, she would be trembling at the thunder. Is she doing so right now, somewhere in Tamoura?
Sergio rests his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I haven’t heard their bugles sound. But if they haven’t seen us yet, they will soon. Half of our fleet is going to sail into their western bay.” He draws an invisible image in the air, gesturing at the city’s two bays and the cliffs running along its northern border. “The west is their main harbor, difficult to enter because of the narrow passage in. The east is an easier bay to access, but full of sharp rocks. This is where the other half of our fleet—where we ourselves—will enter. We can sail in, but we can’t dock. So we’ll call our baliras instead.” Sergio pauses to look at me. “I hope you feel rested, because we’re going to need you to conjure one vast illusion of invisibility for us.”
I nod. Even if the Tamourans can see a glimpse of our ships right now, they will not be expecting them to all vanish into thin air. Invisibility, despite all my mastery, is still the most difficult of my illusions—making myself invisible in a city usually requires a great deal of concentration, painting over my appearance with whatever is around me, constantly, as I move. But out here in the open ocean, all I need to do is weave an illusion of repeating waves and sky over our ships. Even if I make a few mistakes, the Tamourans will be watching from far away. It should be easy to fool them. If I can weave invisibility across the entire fleet, they won’t know where we are until we are upon them.
“And are the baliras ready?” I ask, stepping closer to the railing to look down at the ocean.
Sergio nods. “They’re ready.” But I sense an immediate unease in him and look up. When he sees my expression, he sighs and shakes his head. “The baliras have been restless all night. I’m not an expert in their behavior, but some of the other crew members tell me that they seem like they’re ill. Something in the water, perhaps.”
“Always knew the fish from this strait tasted funny,” Magiano quips, but he barely says it like a joke. I study the baliras that skim the surface of the water as they swim. I can’t tell how healthy they are, but Sergio’s words frighten me.
“Will they be strong enough to carry us across the eastern bay?” I ask as one of them bursts through the waves with a haunting call.
Sergio crosses his arms. “They say the baliras will fly long enough to get us over the wall. I don’t know if they’ll survive a long battle, though.”
“So we need to make it quick and clean,” Magiano says.
“Essentially, yes.”
Magiano raises an eyebrow at me. He doesn’t say it, but I know he’s wishing that we had someone like Gemma with us. Maybe we would have, once upon a time. But Gemma is dead. She hated you, anyway, add the whispers, and I harden my heart before I let myself think about her for much longer. The Daggers will be waiting for us, along with the Tamouran army. The thought of forcing them to their knees gives me some sense of satisfaction. Finally, the whispers sigh.
In unison, our silver-white pennants turn into black ones that blend with the darkening sky. Our war drums echo deep and rhythmic across the sea. The shores of Tamoura are growing closer, and I can see the towers of the capital. Ships have gathered in the harbor, some clustered at the narrow entrance, ready to stop us. But Sergio’s storm is already doing its work. The ocean crashes hard against the harbor’s rocks, sending white spray high in the air and rocking the Tamouran fleet.
The waves hit our own ships hard too, and as one smashes into our side, I careen toward the railing. My hands find it and latch on for safety. Behind me, Magiano makes a flying leap at the edge of the sail and lifts himself onto it in the blink of an eye. He pirouettes to the ladder steps, which lead up along the mainmast. “You’re going to need a better view,” he shouts. “Care to join me?”
He’s right. I take his hand, and he pulls me to the first step. Slowly, I make my way up as the ship tosses. Blackness has nearly covered the entire sky, leaving only a sliver of blue over the capital, surrounded by churning storm clouds. Fat drops of rain have started to pelt down on us. A roll of thunder shakes us. From here, I can see the entire expanse of the Tamouran coastline—the smaller bay off to one side of the city, and the wider bay that we are now sailing dangerously close to. The bay’s mouth gapes before us, and the rocks lining it are sharp and jagged, like the jaws of a monster rising out of the ocean. Directly beyond it is a line of Tamouran warships, all facing our fleet and ready for battle. As we look on, a burst of cannon fire sparks from one of the ships. A warning shot.
I take in the ocean behind us. My Kenettran warships wait for our command.
Magiano gives me his perfect, sidelong smile. “Shall we, White Wolf?”
I turn back to the vast bay and the Tamouran ships, raise my hands, and draw on my energy. The whispers in my head awaken, thrilled with their freedom—and the energy all around me shimmers in a web of threads. I am darkness within, and my darkness reaches out, seeking the fear in the hearts of our enemy soldiers, the anxiety in the hearts of those in my own fleet. It grows in my chest until I can’t hold it in anymore.
So I let it out—and weave.
The clouds over our fleet glow a faint blue. Then, a phantom creature bursts from the water, a figure of black smoke that morphs into the ghost of a white wolf, each of its fangs as large as one of our ships, its eyes glowing red against the storm. It hovers over our fleet with its glare trained on the Tamouran ships. It lets out a roar right as another clap of thunder shatters the sky.
The Tamouran fleet fires a full volley of cannons at us—but I grin, because I can feel the sudden spike of terror in the hearts of their soldiers. To them, they are staring into the face of a demon.
I glance at Magiano. “Ready?” I ask.
He winks. Rain soaks us both now, coming down in sheets, and water drips from his high knot of braids. “Always ready for you, my love.”
I blush a little, in spite of myself, and turn quickly away before he can see it. Then I shift my concentration away from my illusion. Magiano reaches out with his energy this time—he takes over the illusion of the white wolf, and as he holds it in place, I weave an enormous blanket of invisibility over all of our ships, morphing them into the image of black ocean and stormy skies. We vanish from sight in the churning waves.
The Tamouran ships continue firing, but now I can tell that they are aiming blindly, trained only in the direction of their last attack. We are close enough now to the bay’s entrance that I can see the Tamouran soldiers running back and forth on the decks of the ships, their head wraps soaked in the rain. My heartbeat quickens in excitement at the sight of them. I am coming for you all.
I am coming for my sister.
Down below, Sergio’s voice rings out, “Fire!”
Our cannons erupt in unison. They rip into the sides of the Tamouran ships, and distant smoke and screams fill the air. They fire back, but they still cannot see us. Our ship reaches the bay’s mouth, still shielded behind invisibility, and Sergio guides us in, narrowly avoiding the jagged rocks on either side.
Magiano suddenly seizes my wrist and yanks me down lower in the crow’s nest. I duck instinctively with him. An instant later, I see what has caught his attention—baliras, dressed in silver armor, flying in our direction. It takes me a moment to recognize one of their riders. And the recognition only comes because of the flames that shoot out toward us.
Enzo.
The Daggers are here.