Book 3 - Chapter 1

Noah was cold.

The faint drift of water vapor with each breath reminded him just how cold. One hand stayed on the tiller of The Winter’s Debt while the other tugged his toque lower over his ears. He pulled his blue wool jacket tighter around himself, thinking wistfully of the arctic gear he’d worn on his chaotic trip to Tenebrae — and wishing more of it had survived the wild griffon attack.

I shouldn’t have taken Mara up on that haircut, he grumbled inwardly. Sure, it looked unruly before, but my head would be warmer if I hadn’t cut it.

A creature stirred at his feet, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked down to see an onyx‑colored form rise and stretch. If not for her yellow eagle‑like beak, talons, and feathered black wings, Piper could have passed for an oversized housecat.

Her bright green eyes met his, and she cawed softly.

“Hey, girl,” he murmured, scratching lightly between her wings.

She fluttered them, nuzzled his leg, then padded toward the stern hatch.

“No, Piper,” he said gently. “Hannah’s still sleeping.”

She tilted her head, then looked toward the bow hatch.

“Ciri’s sleeping too. Come on. They’ll be up soon enough.”

She cawed again, her thoughts brushing his through their magical bond.

“You know why Mara couldn’t come,” he said quietly. “She’s running what’s left of Therondale.”

His thoughts drifted back to his human girlfriend: the way her piercing blue eyes seemed to see right through him, the way her soft brown hair felt on his chest when she was sleeping, the way her pale skin seemed to glow in the dim light the morning that they left for the winter Fae empire. The feeling of her pink lips — often so quick with a witty comment — lingered on his long after they’d begun their journey. For what felt like the thousandth time, he wondered what she might be doing that moment.

A creak at the bow announced the hatch opening. Noah looked up as his other girlfriend climbed out, her pink hair spilling from beneath her toque. She closed the hatch and walked toward him with purpose, holding something in her gloved hands.

“Everything okay?” Noah asked. “Dawn’s just breaking — you could sleep for at least another hour.”

“I could not,” she said, shaking her head. Her golden eyes met his. “This awakened me.”

She opened her hand. Resting in her palm was a metal seal engraved with a beautifully carved griffon. Noah’s eyes widened as the silvery metal began to glow, brightening until it was difficult to look at. When the light finally faded, he looked back at Ciri.

“It began approximately ten minutes ago,” she said.

“All on its own?”

“Yes.”

“Lady Frostwing said it would help us with the wards protecting the winter Fae empire’s borders. This probably means we’re getting close.”

“I agree.”

“Can you take the tiller for a minute?” Noah asked, offering her the tiller. “I should go wake Hannah.”

She took the seal from him, her fingers lingering on his for a moment. With a wry grin he pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her back and kissing her softly. Even through the layers of clothing they wore he could feel her curves against him, causing his hand to wander across her familiar body. The two lovers lost themselves in the kiss for a moment as she returned it with equal fervor, her hands travelling up his 1.9-meter frame before resting on his back.

“I’m going to miss doing that once we get there,” Noah said as they parted.

“We cannot risk offending the Winter Fae,” she reminded him, even as she pressed her smaller form to his. “You are aware of their policies on romantic relationships between Fae and humans.”

“Yeah, I know. I just don’t like not being able to kiss you whenever I want.”

“I share your displeasure,” she said, taking the tiller. “When we arrive, I will try to find a private place where we may spend time together. An imperfect solution, but better than none.”

“I appreciate that. And you,” he said, stealing one last brief kiss. “Alright. I’m going to wake Hannah.”

She nodded as Noah turned and walked to the hatch. When he reached it, he knelt — then hesitated, remembering Hannah’s strict rule about not entering her private cabin. A debate flared in his mind: knock, open it, or climb straight down?

I need to talk to her about where we stand. Are we allies? Friends? Something more? She invites me into her bed, then tells me to fuck off, then appears out of nowhere to save my life. He exhaled, shaking his head. If she hadn’t been so distant and distracted since we left, I’d have brought it up already.

Luckily, the decision was made for him.

An almighty thud reverberated through the hull, shaking the ship from bow to stern. Noah looked up at Ciri, seeing her golden eyes widen.

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“Did we hit a rock?” he asked as the shaking stopped.

She scanned the horizon. “Unlikely. The channel here is said to be at least three hundred meters deep.”

Frowning, Noah moved to the railing. To his left, the snow‑covered evergreen forests of the winter Fae empire stretched several kilometers away. To his right, the warmer forests of Therondale were equally distant. No clues.

He leaned over the railing, peering into the dark water. At first, the dim morning light showed only his reflection — green eyes, tanned skin, a stray strand of dark brown hair escaping his toque. Then he saw movement beneath the waves.

Something big.

He backed away instinctively — and stopped when the wooden hatch behind him flipped open and slammed onto the deck with a smaller, angrier thud. Hannah climbed out, her silver‑white hair a mess. Whether from her half‑Fae ancestry or sheer fury, she seemed immune to the cold, barefoot in a half‑unbuttoned white shirt and baggy cloth pants.

“What the fuck are you doing to my ship?!” she demanded, turning on Ciri.

“She didn’t do anything!” Noah hissed, keeping his voice low. “There’s something big moving in the water!”

Hannah glanced left and right, coming to the same conclusion. “…fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“You should have woken me before we reached the Sea of Monsters!” she whispered harshly, grabbing the tiller from Ciri.

“We’re not! We haven’t reached even passed Rookhaven,” he retorted. “And for the record: if you wanted to be woken, you should have told me!”

She blinked. “I… didn’t?”

“No! Last night you gave me the tiller, told me not to wake you until your shift, and went straight to bed!”

Her pale cheeks flushed red. “…fucking fuck.”

She really is distracted by whatever Ken said in that letter, Noah realized, grief flickering through him. He took a breath, softened his tone. “It’s okay. We’re here now. We’ll figure it out.”

She looked up, blue eyes meeting his, lips parting as if to speak — but stopped when the seal in Ciri’s hand began glowing again. Ciri opened her palm, and both Hannah and Noah had to turn away, squinting until the light faded.

“How long’s that been happening?” Hannah asked.

“That is the third time in the last approximately fifteen minutes,” Ciri said. “We believe it is assisting us in passing through the magical wards.”

Hannah chewed her lip. “I don’t think that’s what it’s doing. At least, not directly.”

“No?” Noah asked.

She shook her head. “How much do you know about these wards?”

“Nothing,” Noah admitted.

“Information about the winter Fae empire’s maritime wards is scarce,” Ciri added. “All I learned is that they exist, and they allow passage for their ships and select guests while denying all others.”

“I’ve heard stories about uninvited ships that stray too close,” Hannah said. “Most end with the crew being eaten by monsters beneath the waves.”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “You think the wards are related to the monsters?”

“Your tribe used spells to ward off dangerous wildlife,” Hannah said to Ciri. “This might be similar.”

“Fascinating. Ingenious. Yes.” Ciri nodded eagerly. “I will get my notebook. This experience requires documentation.”

“Hang on,” Noah said, placing a hand on her arm. “Are we in danger?”

Hannah shrugged. “Probably not? From what you told me, the Fae who gave you that seal wants you alive. If the monsters were going to be dangerous, she’d have mentioned it.”

“Okay.” Noah released Ciri’s arm.

He watched her move to the bow, then turned to Hannah. “Why don’t you grab a coat? I’ll take the tiller while you do.”

She looked down at her state of undress and grimaced. “Yeah, okay. Good point. Don’t hit anything while I’m gone.”

“No promises,” he teased, taking the tiller.

“I’m serious. If you scratch my ship, you’re paying to fix it!” she snapped before disappearing back into her hatch.

He chuckled as the wooden flap closed, refocusing on the task at hand. His eyes scanned the water for any sign of the creature beneath. Overhead, Piper landed atop the mast and cawed down at him.

“You see something?” he called.

She cawed again and bobbed her head toward the starboard side.

“You sure? That’s toward Therondale.”

A sharper, irritated caw answered him.

“Alright, alright.” He held up a hand in surrender and searched the area she indicated.

The morning sun rose in earnest over the next few minutes, forcing him to squint. By the time Hannah rejoined him on deck—now dressed in a wool coat that matched his—he still hadn’t seen anything. He handed her the tiller and moved to the railing, leaning forward with one hand shielding his eyes.

“Did the creature return?” Ciri asked as she climbed onto the deck, the seal glowing brightly in her hand.

“No.” Noah shook his head, eyes fixed on the water. “Piper says she saw something, but I don’t see it anywhere.”

Hearing him, the runt griffon fluttered down from the mast and landed lightly beside him. She growled, headbutting his arm before turning and cawing toward the distant shoreline. Noah followed her gaze—first seeing nothing, then catching sight of four large white sails on the horizon.

“Hannah,” he called, turning. “How close are we to Rookhaven?”

“We’re not far. Maybe half a day’s trip with good wind. Why?”

He pointed. “Those look like Therondalian ships.”

“They’re not Fae, that’s for sure,” she agreed.

Noah watched in silence for a full minute as the larger ships drifted north—then began to pick up speed, committing to the crossing. His concern rose steadily. He ground his teeth and turned to see Hannah’s brow furrowed, her lips pressed thin.

“There’s no way Therondalian ships would try to cross the channel, right?” he asked.

“There… shouldn’t be.” She shook her head. “I’ve never met a captain desperate enough to try.”

“My mothers were,” Ciri reminded them. “They moved my tribe. Perhaps others are desperate to escape Rookhaven now that it has allied itself with Ferrum Vale.”

“But the Fae knew they were coming,” Noah said. “Your tribe had help crossing. It doesn’t look like these people do.”

“Are you sure they don’t?” Hannah asked.

“I haven’t seen any glowing seals, and I’ve been watching them for more than five minutes.”

“It’s probably just belowdecks,” Hannah said, shaking her head after several minutes, waiting until they came close enough to make out dark figures on deck. “I’m telling you—no captain is crazy enough to—”

The rest of Hannah’s retort died when something struck one of the ships hard enough to make it shudder. A resounding boom echoed across the water a moment later, vibrating through The Winter’s Debt. Piper cawed sharply and took off again, resuming her aerial patrol.

Barely ten seconds passed before an enormous dark‑grey form breached the surface and slammed into the ship’s side. Even with most of it still underwater, Noah guessed it had to be at least thirty meters long. It looked vaguely like a whale, but its head was blunt and flat, with forward‑facing black eyes and articulated foreflippers that grasped the hull like hands.

The creature opened its gaping maw and bit down on the ship. Screams carried across the channel as tiny figures rushed along the deck, striking the monster with anything they could. It ignored the feeble blows, releasing only when the crew’s conduits began flinging magic at it. The beast sank beneath the waves.

Even at a distance, Noah knew the reprieve wouldn’t last. The ship listed dangerously, new holes in its hull filling rapidly with water. He clenched his jaw, hoping they had enough lifeboats — and enough sense — to retreat toward the mainland.

It wouldn’t have mattered.

The creature returned moments later, tearing a chunk out of the bow. A second whale‑like monster surfaced after that, latching onto the stern. Together they dragged the damaged ship under in seconds, leaving only scattered flotsam behind.

“We’ve gotta go help them!” Noah shouted.