Two days had passed since the disastrous battle at Mare. The Blue Sky had been steadily flying all that time, heading south along the coast. Though it had thinned out a little, fog still shrouded the coastline, blurring the boundary between land and sea.
Darian had faith in both Amaro's piloting skills and Nevy's instruments, so she wasn't too concerned about the fog. No, far greater matters occupied her mind.
Her hands closed around the railing, squeezing the metal until her bones ached. The fog streaked below like trails of smoke, stirred up by the Blue Sky's propellers. Amaro was pushing the craft as fast as it could go and then some, but it still didn't feel like enough.
Oh, how she wished they were speeding straight back to Mare. But diving in without an airtight plan had doomed them the first time around, and Darian was determined not to repeat this mistake. After two days of nonstop discussion, the crew had decided their best bet was to get reinforcements. Hence why they were flying south, tracking down a crew of pirates who owed Darian a favor or two.
Even at top speed, it would take them a few more days at best. Darian clenched her teeth, trying not to imagine what might be happening at Mare. Would the Infernal Legion have repaired the extraction machine by now? Would Hellebore take out his rage on the townspeople?
The thought made Darian's arms shiver. Cursing herself, she gripped the railing tighter.
But rather than standing around brooding, she ought to do something productive. Maybe train, like the others. Ryan and Fia in particular spent almost every waking hour practicing; judging by the shouts and green flashes coming from down the deck, they were at it right now. Darian certainly had never imagined such an odd match-up, but if it gave both of them a sense of purpose, she couldn't object.
Yes, some training wouldn't hurt. She could call up Sir Zenith for a spar, if he wasn't already occupied. Darian reached for her rapier, trying to ignore the aches throbbing in her joints. When was the last time she had slept?
Just as she prepared to step away from the railing, something in the distance caught her attention. Frowning, Darian leaned forward and peered into the sky. Nothing but dreary gray clouds as far as the eye could see.
No, wait. A tiny black dot marred the uniform gray, swooping back and forth in the telltale manner of a seabird. And it was heading ever closer.
Darian tensed, drawing her rapier. The others on the deck noticed too, stopping what they were doing and coming up behind her. Kress even cocked her crossbow, though Darian raised her hand in a warning not to shoot immediately.
The dot grew larger, cutting an unmistakable silhouette against the sky. Its wingspan had to measure at least four meters across. And Darian felt certain she wasn't imagining the object clutched in its massive talons.
Foreboding trembled inside her. She stepped back, lifting her rapier.
By the time the bird landed on the railing, everyone had their weapons out. With a contemptuous flap of its wings, the bird blasted a gust of wind across the deck. Darian dug her heels into the metal, refusing to flinch.
Up close, she could tell the bird was a nightsoarer, with jet-black plumage and wickedly curved claws tipping its wings. The bird opened its beak, revealing dozens of needle-sharp teeth, and let out a rasping croak.
Its talons unfurled, dropping something onto the deck with a clatter. Before Darian could say or do anything, the nightsoarer flapped its wings and leaped into the sky again.
"Hey!" Kress loosed a crossbow bolt after it, only to miss the bird's wingtip by a narrow margin. A few black feathers fluttered in its wake, but the nightsoarer had already vanished into the clouds.
"What the hell was that?" Ryan yelled.
Heart pounding, Darian picked up the object the bird had dropped. A hand mirror with an ornately wrought frame. But that didn't catch her attention nearly as much as the surface of the glass – completely pitch-black, without even the hint of a reflection.
Foreboding trembled inside her. Then came a rush of icy Levia, horrifyingly familiar, before an image resolved in the glass.
The others crowded behind her, peering over her shoulders, but Darian didn't have any attention to spare on them. No, her eyes were riveted on the mirror.
Or rather, the demon inside the mirror. His face smug and gloating, his eyes as dark as tunnels. Even though this was her first time seeing him, Darian knew exactly who he must be.
"Greetings, Prince Darian," General Hellebore said. "A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."
"What do you want?" Darian snapped. The crew had discussed the possibility of pursuit, but she had ultimately figured Hellebore would prefer not to waste his energy on chasing her down. After all, she had no choice but to eventually return to Mare.
Hellebore's smirk widened. "Not a very courteous prince, are you. Well, perhaps you'll remember your manners when we meet face-to-face."
Darian's nerves prickled. "What do you mean?"
"I mean what I say," Hellebore said, languidly resting his cheek on the back of his fist. "I'd love to talk to you in person. So if you don't mind, why don't you turn your craft around and head on back to my little island?"
"That 'little island' is Mare, and it doesn't belong to you. And what makes you think I'll willingly come?"
"Hm...well." Hellebore scratched his temple, infuriatingly theatrical. "I could, say...give you a little ultimatum or so."
"As if we would obey any ultimatum from you!" Guntar squawked behind Darian, puffing out his feathers.
"Oh, really?" Hellebore's eyes narrowed and he licked his lips, looking for all the world like a predator about to savor a large meal. "Maybe you'll change your mind when you see...this."
He stepped back from the mirror, revealing the scene behind him.
Darian's heart froze. It was the town square of Mare. And behind Hellebore knelt a line of bound and gagged townspeople.
"No!" Fia cried, lurching forward.
"I personally don't know what you see in this useless lot," Hellebore gloated. "But you seem to value them all the same. So...what if I were to, say…."
His hand shot out and closed around the stringy hair of the nearest prisoner – an elderly sprite. Chief Lahu, Darian realized with an icy jolt.
As Lahu writhed and struggled, Hellebore hauled him in front of the mirror. He yanked the sprite's head back, forcing him to arch his neck grotesquely. Grinning, Hellebore tapped the vein throbbing beneath the blue skin of his throat. Lahu squirmed harder, groaning through the gag.
"You're two days away from Mare, yes?" Hellebore said, drawing out each word as if to savor it. "Well then, let's do it like this. You have two days to return. If I don't see your skycraft by sunset of the second day, I'll begin executing these prisoners. Starting with this old man."
"No! You can't!" Fia screamed. They lunged at the mirror, only to be stopped by Ryan throwing his arms around their chest. "Let go, let go!" Fia raged helplessly, but Ryan held on tight.
"Fia, I know how you feel but you can't do anything to him right now! Fia!"
For her part, Darian could only stare at the mirror. Her heart throbbed a violent rhythm in her ribcage, drowning out her thoughts with a furious roar. And perhaps all for the better.
"Stricken speechless, eh?" Hellebore laughed, a sardonic bark. "Well then. I'll see you soon."
With that, he shoved Lahu aside and snapped his fingers. The scene disappeared, and all Darian could see in the mirror was her white-faced reflection.
She flung it to the deck, and without thinking whipped out her rapier and stabbed it in the center. The glass shattered with a satisfying shriek, scattering glinting shards across the deck.
But Hellebore was far beyond her reach. Still ruling over Mare, subjecting its citizens to his sadistic whims. As Darian stared at the broken mirror, her chest heaved and the breaths whistled in her throat.
"My liege," Guntar said quietly, but she barely heard him beneath her thundering heartbeat.
Two days. Even if they threw everything they had into the Blue Sky's engines, there was no way they could make it to the pirates and back in that time.
"It's a trap," Ryllis said roughly. "He's got the complete upper hand."
"You think I don't know that?" Darian yelled, rounding on her. "But what else can we do? I refuse to let innocent people die on my behalf!"
"I – I'm sorry, Prince Darian," Fia muttered, head bowed.
"It's not your fault," Darian said, though her voice came out sharper than she intended. "Amaro! Set a course back to Mare!"
"Right away!" Amaro yelled from the wheel.
Darian didn't waste any time. As the craft began to turn, she marched toward the deck cabin. "Guntar, Meg, Kress, with me. We need a new strategy, and fast."
Well. It looked like she wasn't going to catch up on her sleep anytime soon.