The churning waters of the harbor flash at the end of the street, beyond a scurrying crowd of soldiers. It looks like a storm has just passed through. Every surface is wet, and dark gray clouds are breaking up overhead, blown off by a furious gale. Waves lap at the curved shoreline, still foaming white like the surface of a boiling pot. I can see now that out in the harbor, Fort Patriot is a ruin, one half flooded, the other half burning. I can smell it, even across the water. The bridge to the fort is just as obliterated, parts of it overtaken by the sea.
My forehead touches the glass of the window as I strain to see more. Our soldiers busy themselves clearing debris, building makeshift walls, or setting machine guns. I search their ranks, looking for familiar faces as we drive onto the paved plaza lining the waterfront. They all look the same, even in their differing uniforms. Dirty-faced, bleeding both colors, exhausted and ready to drop. But alive.
Their ranks part for the transport as we round the water, heading toward the center of the waterfront and the now-smashed gates of the fort bridge. Ella and I bunch up at the right-hand window, craning for a better view. Across from us, Rafe does the same. Only Tyton remains still, glaring at his dirty boots.
“The ships are firing on each other,” Ella breathes, pointing out the battleships still in the harbor. “Look, three to one.”
I bite my lip, confused for only a moment. In the distance, the gray hulks bob in the water, rocking with the force of their own heavy guns. Indeed, three of them seem to be shooting at the fourth. I wonder which side has the upper hand. Our coalition—or Maven’s. Smaller boats venture into the choppy waters, carrying soldiers toward the battleships.
The transport barely halts before my boots hit the wet pavement, each step slick and precarious. I keep my balance, shoving through the crowd of soldiers. The other electricons follow. We make for the knot of officers near the waterline, watching over the boats moving across the harbor. In the distance, the fourth battleship rides the waves, tipping back and forth beneath the force of bombardment. I barely glance at it, hunting for familiar faces among the soldiers.
I see Farley first, her golden hair gleaming against the gray of battle. Binoculars dangle around her neck, forgotten for a moment. She barks orders in steady rhythm, gesturing between her officers. She doesn’t seem to notice the men stacking up crates, building a meager wall to protect their general. Some of the tension in my chest releases, and I breathe a bit easier.
Julian is here as well, to my relief. He and Queen Anabel hang close, both of them transfixed by the battleships in the harbor. Their stare is unwavering, and Anabel clutches Julian’s arm, her knuckles white against his sleeve.
The sight unsettles me, but I can’t say why.
“Where do you need us?” I clip, entering their circle as calmly as I can.
Farley rounds on me, sputtering, and I brace for the inevitable rebuke. “What are you doing here?” she snaps. “Is something wrong in New Town—”
“New Town is won,” Ella offers, crossing her arms at my side.
Rafe nods. “Put us to work here, General.”
“It’s Iris Cygnet out there,” Farley snarls, gesturing to the ships. Then she hesitates, teeth on edge. It makes me uneasy.
I put a hand to her arm. Maven’s queen is formidable, but not unbeatable. “Iris doesn’t scare me. Farley, let us help—”
Out in the harbor, a burst of red flame runs the length of the fourth ship, moving strangely. A massive, unnatural wave rises up to meet it, breaking across the deck. Another curl of fire erupts, spiraling in the air as more tongues of water twist and spray. They move together, an elemental dance that could only be the work of two very specific people.
My heart drops in my chest, frozen with fear. And fury.
The sky turns black above the harbor, clouds re-forming in an instant. Purple flashes deep within, matching the rhythm of my beating heart.
“What is he doing?” I snarl to no one, taking a step toward the water. Something snaps apart inside me. Any objective I might have had, all thoughts of the city, disappear in an instant.
“Easy, Mare,” I hear Ella say, trying to catch my arm, but I shove her off. I have to get to that ship. I have to stop him. “You don’t have the aim to help him from here!” she shouts, her voice fading. I’m faster in a crowd, more agile. They can’t keep up.
I work my way to the water’s edge. Desperation might swallow me whole. Cal is fighting a nymph, a powerful nymph. His greatest weakness. It terrifies me.
Boats shuttle back and forth across the harbor, the empty ones returning to load more soldiers. I watch with my teeth gritted so tightly they might shatter. Too slow.
“Teleporters!” I shout, desperate and in vain. The sound of the guns all but drowns me out. “Teleporters!” I scream again. No one comes running.
The boats might be slow-moving, but they’re my best chance. I have a foot in one when Farley catches up to me, seizing me by the shoulders. She all but drags me backward, my boots splashing through the shallow water of the docks.
I shrug her off, twisting with motions I learned a long time ago in the alleys of the Stilts. She stumbles but catches herself, hands outstretched. Her face flushes scarlet.
“Get me on that ship, Farley.” My voice shakes with anger. I feel like I might explode. “I’m not asking for your permission.”
“Okay,” she concedes, her eyes wide with a fear of her own. “Okay—”
A flash out on the water stills us both, and Farley’s words die on her lips. We watch in stunned silence as a succession of explosive rounds pummel into Iris’s ship, rocking the craft. Waves rise up to stabilize it, even as the explosions spread, red and angry, each an inferno reaching skyward. Smoke billows, black and reeking, as another wave pulls over the ship. Soldiers fall from the deck, splashing into the harbor below. From this distance, I can’t distinguish their uniforms. Red, green, or blue, I can’t tell.
But his armor flashes brightly against the fire, impossible to miss.
Without thinking, I rip the binoculars off Farley’s neck and press them to my eyes.
I feel frozen by what I see, rooted, unable to move.
Iris dodges a fireball, dipping with liquid motion, faster than Tiberias ever was. She dances out of his reach, circling even as the ship beneath them moves, churning its way toward the mouth of the harbor and the open ocean. The valiant, stupid Calore pursues.
Another wave hits him head-on, crashing blue and white with the full force of Iris Cygnet’s power. My heart stops in my chest as I imagine him crushed against the metal ship, drowning before my eyes.
He falls, his armor broken, splintered by battle, his scarlet cape torn to pieces. For such a large man, Tiberias makes such a tiny splash.
My vision spots, hazy with every emotion as my own brain overloads. Everything narrows, edged with black, until I can’t hear the crowd around me. Even Farley’s voice fades, her barking orders disappearing. I want to scream but find my teeth welded together. If I move, if I speak, all my restraint will disappear too. The lightning will have no mercy. All I can do is stare, stand, and pray to whoever might be listening.
Warm hands hold my shoulders as the electricons surround me, close enough to react if I lose control. Blue, green, white. Ella, Rafe, Tyton.
Cal, Cal, Cal.
Survive.