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Rhy squinted, straining to pick out one ship in particular.

A dark-wood vessel with silver trim and blue-black sails.

But there was no sign of the Night Spire.

Not yet.

III

THE ARNESIAN SEA

Lila stormed across the Spire’s deck, glaring at anyone who chanced to look her way. She’d left her coat in Alucard’s cabin, and the night wind hit her like a wall, piercing sleeves and skin. It bit and burned, but Lila didn’t turn back; instead she welcomed the sobering shock of the cold air as she crossed to the ship’s stern, and slumped against the rail.

Bastard, she grumbled at the water below.

She was used to being the thief, not the mark. And she’d nearly fallen for it, focused on the hand in front of her face while the other tried to pick her pocket. She gripped the rail with bare fingers and stared out at the open sea, furious: at Alucard, at herself, at this stupid ship, the edges of which were so fixed, and so small.

What are you running from? he’d asked.

Nothing.

Everything.

Us. This.

Magic.

The truth was, there had been an instant, staring into the hissing fire, when it had stared back, hot and fierce, and listening, and she knew she could have made it grow, could have torched the whole cabin in a moment’s temper, burned the ship, and herself and everyone on it.

She was starting to understand that magic wasn’t just something to be accessed, tapped into when needed. It was always there, ready and waiting. And that frightened her. Almost as much as the way Alucard had been able to play her, toy with her, twist her distraction to his advantage. She’d let her guard slip, a mistake she wouldn’t make again.

Bastard.

The cold air helped cool the fire in her cheeks, but the energy still surged beneath her skin. She glared at the sea, and imagined reaching out and shoving the water with all her strength. Like a child in a bath.

She didn’t bother summoning any poems, didn’t expect the desire to actually take shape, but a second later she felt energy flood through her, and the water bucked and surged, the ship tilting violently on a sudden wave.

Cries of concern went up across the Spire as the men tried to figure out what had happened, and Lila smirked viciously, hoping that down below she’d toppled a few more of Alucard’s finest wines. And then it hit her, what she’d done. She’d moved the ocean—or at least a ship-sized piece of it. She touched a hand to her nose, expecting to find blood, but there was none. She was fine. Unharmed. She let out a small, dazed chuckle.

What are you?

Lila shivered, the cold having finally reached her bones. She was suddenly tired, and she didn’t know if it was the backlash of expended magic or simply her frustration burning out.

What was it Barron used to say?

Something about tempers and candles and powder kegs.

The fact that she couldn’t remember the exact words hit her like a dull blow to the chest. Barron was one of her only tethers, and he was gone now. And what right did she have to mourn? She’d wanted to be free of him, hadn’t she? And this was why. People could only hurt you if you cared enough to let them.

Lila was about to turn away from the rail when she heard a muffled sniff, and realized she wasn’t alone. Of course, no one was ever truly alone, not on a ship, but someone was standing against the rigging nearby, holding their breath. She squinted at the shadows, and then, when the figure looked more willing to collapse than step forward, she snapped her fingers and summoned a small, vibrant flame—a gesture managed with nonchalance, even though she’d been practicing it for weeks.

The light, which struggled against the sea breeze, illuminated the scarecrow shape of Lenos, Alucard’s second mate. He squeaked, and she sighed and extinguished the fire, plunging them both back into comfortable darkness.

“Lenos,” she said, trying to sound friendly. Had he seen what she’d done with the ship and the sea? The look on his face was one of caution, if not outright fear, but that was his usual expression around her. After all, he’d been the one to start the rumor that she was the Sarows, haunting the Spire.

The man stepped forward, and she saw that he was holding something out for her. His coat.

A refusal rose to her lips, automatic, but then good sense made her reach out and take it. She’d survived magic doors and evil queens; she’d be damned if she died of catching cold.

He let go of the coat the instant her fingers found purchase, as if afraid of being burned, and she shrugged it on, the lining still warm from Lenos’s body. She turned up the collar and shoved her hands into the pockets, flexing her fingers for warmth.

“Are you afraid of me?” she asked in Arnesian.

“A little,” he admitted, looking away.

“Because you don’t trust me?”

He shook his head. “Not that,” he mumbled. “You’re just different from us….”

She gave him a crooked smile. “So I’ve been told.”

“Not cause you’re a, well, you know, a girl. S’not that.”

“Because I’m the Sarows, then? You really think that?”

He shrugged. “S’not that, not exactly. But you’re aven.”

Lila frowned. The word he used was blessed. But Lila had learned that there was no English equivalent. In Arnesian blessed wasn’t always a good thing. Some said it meant chosen. Others said favored. But some said cursed. Other. Apart.

Aven can be a good thing, too,” she said, “so long as they’re on your side.”

“Are you on our side?” he asked quietly.

Lila was on her own side. But she supposed she was on the Spire’s side, too. “Sure.”

He wrapped his arms around himself and turned his attention past her to the water. A fog was rolling in, and as he stared intently at it, Lila wondered what he saw in the mist.

“I grew up in this little place called Casta,” he said. “On the southern cliffs. Castans think that sometimes magic chooses people.”

“Like Master Kell,” she said, adding, “the black-eyed prince.”

Lenos nodded. “Yes, magic chose Master Kell. But what he is—Antari—that’s only one kind of aven. Maybe the strongest, but it depends on your definition of strong. The priests are another. Some people think that they’re the strongest, because they have just enough of every element to use them all in balance, so they can heal and grow and make life. There used to be all kinds of aven. Ones who could master all the elements. Ones who could only master one, but were so powerful, they could change the tides, or the wind, or the seasons. Ones who could hear what magic had to say. Aven isn’t just one thing, because magic isn’t just one thing. It’s everything, old and new and always changing. The Castans think that when someone aven appears, it’s for a reason. It’s because the magic is trying to tell us something….” He trailed off. Lila stared at him. It was the most Lenos had ever said to her. The most she’d ever heard him say to anyone, for that matter.

“So you think I’m here for a reason?” she asked.

Lenos rocked from heel to toe. “We’re all here for a reason, Bard. Some reasons are just bigger than others. So I guess I’m not scared of who you are, or even what you are. I’m scared of why you are.”