Chapter 28

The second Hannah caught sight of the two of them hurrying down the docks, she immediately began unmooring the boat, forcing them to break into a jog. She’d finished by the time they reached her, leaving them to make a small jump into the craft as it drifted serenely away from the pier. They barely hit the deck before Hannah was reaching into her pocket, pulling out her grimoire, and tearing out a page.

The spell she cast made the water beneath them swell, pushing the boat forward. With a rapid series of additional spells she raised the sails, barking orders at the three of them between each cast. In what felt like record time they’d cleared the harbour and were once again underway, leaving Tarn’s Reach behind.

They sailed for a few hours, following the coastline as best they could. When Hannah was confident they weren’t being followed, she guided them into a small bay and dropped anchor, explaining that they’d need morning light to navigate the next stretch properly. Thankfully for everyone, Ken offered to take first watch as Hannah went belowdecks to rest, and Ciri pulled Noah toward their shared hammock to make good on her earlier promise.

After rotating watches through the night, Noah stood on deck as the sun crested the horizon. The gentle lap of waves against the hull and the distant call of seabirds provided a soothing soundtrack as he paced the length of the boat, replaying the previous night’s events. As the sunlight strengthened, he stopped and narrowed his eyes at the horizon.

Is that a tower on top of that mountain?

He resumed pacing, glancing toward the mountain every few steps, unsure whether he was truly seeing a tower or just a trick of the light. Unfortunately for everyone else, the sound of his boots on the deck—combined with the brightening sky—proved enough to rouse Ciri, Ken, and Hannah. A few minutes later he was joined by all three, Hannah looking particularly murderous.

“I was having such a good dream.” Hannah glared at him. “Then the footsteps started.”

Noah shook his head and chuckled as Ciri handed out breakfast—jerky made from something called emberpheasant, wrapped in a flatbread of spiral grains. “I see you’re not a morning person.”

“I don’t trust morning people,” she shot back before taking a bite.

“Is coffee a thing here?” Noah asked, turning to Ciri.

“What is coffee?”

“I’ll take that as a no,” he muttered, giving in to his rumbling stomach.

They ate in silence until Hannah finished and began casting again. At her direction, Noah hauled the anchor up, and within minutes they caught the morning breeze blowing south toward their destination. As they passed through the narrow strait separating the northern half of the continent from a nearby island, Noah leaned against the starboard bow, staring up at the mountain again.

“You seem distracted. Did you not sleep enough?” Ciri asked, stepping beside him.

“No, it’s not that.” He pointed. “I thought I saw a tower on top of that mountain. Even now it’s hard to tell.”

“Oh! Yes. The ancient Fae called this island Thyræ’sol. There is a tower at the top, similar to the one near our village.”

“Similar as in…built by the ancient Fae?”

“Yes.”

“Does it have runes too?”

“Yes. I have not verified this myself, but the texts are clear. All the towers have the same runes etched into their floors.”

Noah blinked, turning to her. “Wait—all the towers? As in…there are more than these two?”

“Of course,” Ciri said. “There are twelve in total. Did you not see them on the map I showed you?”

“I was a little more focused on finding the twin mirrors,” Noah admitted, gears turning. “Where are the other towers?”

“Three in the Winter Fae Empire, three in the Summer Fae Empire, three in Therondale.”

Noah did the math. “That leaves three in Ferrum Vale.”

“Yes.”

“And nobody from any nation knows what they do?”

“Correct.”

“Bryn was underselling it then,” Noah murmured. “Figuring it out really would be big news.”

“Correct again.”

“It’s too bad we can’t go up there and take a look.” Noah leaned back against the rail, arms spread. “I know you said it’s the same as the one near the village, but I’d still like to see it. I love a good mystery.”

“There is a tower in Crownspire,” she offered. “Perhaps between searching for your brother and petitioning the King and Queen, we can visit it together.”

“There’s one in Crownspire?” Noah asked, caught off guard.

“Crownspire is built upon an ancient Fae city. Why would there not be a tower there?”

He considered that, then shrugged. “The two I’ve seen were both out in the wilderness. I guess I assumed they all were.”

“A reasonable assumption, but a false one.”

“Are there other towers in the middle of cities?”

“Several, yes.”

Noah was about to ask which ones when Ken called from the bow. “There’s a ship ahead!”

Hannah stood on her tiptoes, then shook her head. “I can’t get a good look.”

“I’ll take the tiller,” Noah offered, jogging toward her.

She waited until he had both hands on the jury-rigged pole before fixing him with a hard stare. “Don’t crash my ship.”

“I’ll keep her safe.”

Hannah narrowed her eyes. “My ship is not a ‘her.’ I know your idiotic human traditions insist on feminizing inanimate objects, but—”

“Fine, fine!” Noah groaned. “I’ll keep it safe. Happy?”

“Better,” she muttered, storming toward the bow.

She barely made it halfway to Ken before freezing. The blood drained from her face, leaving her ghostly pale. Eyes wide and mouth open, she spun and tackled him aside as she grabbed the tiller out of his hands.

“What the fuck, Hannah?” Noah blurted. “I didn’t do anything!”

She yanked the tiller hard, throwing the boat into a tight turn that made everyone grab for the railings. “That’s Borin Ohnar’s ship on the horizon, that’s what the fuck!”

Noah scrambled to the port side and saw why she was panicking. Rounding the southern tip of the island was an enormous vessel—easily ten times the size of their cutter. Multiple decks, three massive sails, and an imposing prow slowly turning toward them. Even from this distance, he knew that if it came to a fight, they’d be hopelessly outnumbered.

“I’ll get my crossbow,” Noah said as Ciri and Ken rushed over.

“Don’t bother. Ohnar’s got more than a few conduits on his crew. Your little stick-thrower won’t do much against magic.”

“What, we’re just giving up then?” Noah challenged.

“Does it look like we’re giving up?” Hannah snapped, fury twisting her face. “We’re running, you idiot!”

“Why are we running?” Ken asked.

“Is now really the best time for this argument?” she barked.

Ken looked ready to retort, but stopped suddenly and pointed. Noah, Ciri, and Hannah followed his finger toward the horizon—where another set of equally enormous sails waited for them. Silence fell for several long moments before Hannah took a shuddering breath and released the tiller.

“More trouble?” Noah asked, already knowing the answer.

“That’s Ohnar’s other boat,” Hannah said.

“He has two?”

“Yes.”

“Shit,” Noah muttered.

“Yeah.” Her voice was filled with cold anger.

Noah looked between the two ships, then at the shorelines boxing them in. “He’s got us trapped.”

“I noticed,” Hannah replied.

“Got a plan?”

“Yeah.” She took a deep breath. “Lower the sails.”

“So now we’re giving up?” he asked.

Hannah finally turned to him. “If you’ve got a better idea that doesn’t end with us dying, I’m listening.”

“We could try to maneuver around them,” Noah offered. “Make a run for the open ocean like you suggested.”

“This strait is too narrow,” Ken said, joining them. “They’d just sink us with a spell.”

“Ken is right.” Hannah stared at the oncoming ships. “Our only chance is to give up and let them take us prisoner. He’ll probably see the three of you as innocent bystanders and just take whatever gold you have before dropping you at the next port.” She grit her teeth. “He’s a businessman, after all.”

Noah took a step toward the sails, then stopped. “Wait. You said the three of us. What about you?”

“What do you mean?” Hannah asked.

“What’s he going to do to you?”

She blinked, confused. “Why do you care?”

“Because I do,” he said simply.

She gave him a strange look. “You shouldn’t have rescued me last night.”

“We couldn’t really leave you behind,” he said.

She chuckled softly. “I guess not. Still—I’ve been in worse spots, and I’ll get out of this one too.” She hesitated. “Just in case we get…separated… the carriage service you want is called the Crimson Wyvern. It’s in Braemont. I sent your brother with them to Crownspire.”

He froze, unsure how to respond. “I… thanks, Hannah.”

“We should make sure our most important belongings are in our bags,” Ken said, his voice hardening. “If they release us, I doubt they’ll let us poke around to gather our things.”

Ciri’s eyes widened and she darted toward the hatch at the bow. Ken followed a moment later. Noah turned to join them, but Hannah grabbed his arm, stopping him. She hesitated, holding his gaze.

“Just so you know: I have a rule about not getting attached to passengers.” She paused for a moment, picking her next words. “You’re making it more complicated than usual.”

“Just so you know, when we get out of this you’re going to tell me what the hell is really going on.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” she shot back.

Goddamnit, Noah thought as he jogged away. She meant that.

The next twenty minutes flew by. Noah dropped down the ladder into the cargo hold and carefully packed his griffon egg into his bag, surrounding it with clothes for cushioning. He checked that his crossbow and bolts were strapped tight, and that his grappling hook was secured, before finding Ciri and pulling her into a tight hug. She squeezed him back, burying her face in his chest.

“We’re going to be okay,” he promised.

“I know. I trust you,” she said.

By the time they returned to the deck, the sails had been lowered and a white flag raised, signaling their surrender. Ken joined them moments later, adjusting his belt before placing his bag beside the mast. Not knowing when they’d next get the chance, they ate quickly—mechanically chewing and swallowing despite having no appetite.

Less than five minutes after they finished, one of Ohnar’s ships pulled alongside them. Men and women swung across the narrow gap on ropes, landing on the deck and drawing an assortment of weapons. Noah noted a woman among them holding a book in one hand, her other palm pressed to a page.

That would be the conduit. Or at least one of them.

The display was unnecessary, given that the four of them were already kneeling with their bags in the center of the deck, fingers interlaced behind their heads. None of them had moved since the pirates arrived, eager not to give anyone an excuse to kill them. Within moments they were surrounded by swords, spears, hammers, maces—an entire armory pointed straight at them.

“In case it wasn’t obvious, we’re giving up,” Hannah said dryly.

A minute later, Borin Ohnar himself stepped onto their boat, landing with a heavy thud before twirling the ends of his moustache. “My dear, you are far more trouble than you’re worth, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” Hannah replied.

He strolled along the deck, polished leather boots clicking with each step. “I don’t think you’ve ever kept a crew for as long as I’ve known you. Why don’t you introduce me to your friends?”

“They’re not crew,” Hannah said. “They’re passengers.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” Ken answered, meeting the man’s gaze. “We hired her to take us to Crownspire via Braemont.”

Ohnar stopped and cocked his head, looking between Ken, Ciri, and Noah. “Two Fae and a human.” He turned back to Hannah. “You keep interesting company.”

“I could say the same for you.”

He chuckled and smoothed the front of his crisp white shirt before addressing his crew. “Send Hannah to my cabin, then ready this boat to be towed.”

“What should we do with the rest of them?”

“I don’t care. Take them to the brig. We’ll deal with them after.”