Page 77 of The Hurricane Wars

The young lord gave every impression of not wanting to talk about it, so Talasyn fell silent. The late-night breeze tossed strands of her hair wildly about as she and Surakwel sailed beneath the stars.

“What exactly is the Allfold’s plan, Your Grace?” Surakwel asked. “I doubt that it entails hiding forever in the Storm God’s Eye.”

“All information will be dispensed on a need-to-know basis,” Talasyn said crisply. The truth was that she herself had only a vague idea of what was going on in Vela’s head. From previous visits, she’d surmised that her comrades had spent the last few months repairing their damaged vessels, gathering intelligence over the aetherwave, and learning how to survive in this foreign land.

TheSerenitywas fast despite its squadron’s worth of armaments, and they reached the strait in a little under five hours, when a voyage from Eskaya would normally have taken an airship of similar size almost six. Miles and miles off the coast of Lidagat, westernmost of the Dominion’s seven main islands, the ocean’s flat expanse was disrupted by two long rows of gargantuan, sheer-sloped basalt pillars. Legend had it that these were formed by the collision when the broken body of some nameless ancient god of storms came crashing down from the heavens during a great war among the members of his pantheon, his blood mingling with that of other slain deities to create the Eversea. Between the pillars was the strip of water that one had to traverse for another half-hour before reaching the isles of Sigwad, which were said to be his right eye.

Luck was on Talasyn and her eager companion’s side; there was no sign of the Tempest Sever that frequently blew through the strait.The storm god’s restless spirit is taking the night off,she thought wryly. Back on the Continent—in Sardovia, in Kesath—the Severs were manifestations of the gods, but here in Nenavar the gods were long dead. There was only the Zahiya-lachis.

From the air, Sigwad was a roughly circular smattering of coral islands. Surakwel landed the yacht at its center, on atranquil stretch of shoreline that glittered in the copious moonlight.

“Wait here,” Talasyn instructed as she disembarked. She didn’t want to waste valuable time convincing Ideth Vela that this new Dominion noble could be trusted.

“But—”

“Debt of the self, remember?”

Surakwel sighed. “Fine.”

Talasyn shot him her fiercest, haughtiest glare and he lapsed into a grudging silence, glowering at her retreating back when she turned to make for the nearby swamp on foot. If only it werethiseasy to shut Alaric Ossinast up—the ass.

She disappeared into the mangrove trees, forging a radiant blade to illuminate her path. The damp smell of brackish water rushed up her nose as she plodded through the wilderness, over mangrove roots tangled together so densely that they formed forest floor, quivering with a variety of soft amphibious things that slithered and slimed and croaked in the gloom.

“Talasyn?”

The whisper cut through the dark swamp. She nearly hurled her light-spun sword at the treetops, but common sense kicked in at the last second and she squinted at the canopy above her. The round face of a young boy squinted back.

“I’ll tell the Amirante that you’re on your way.” He scampered off, hopping from branch to branch until he disappeared in a rustle of leaves.

Talasyn ventured on, over mud and twisted roots and shallow water. TheNautilusand the camp that had sprung up around it were on a natural embankment, while theSummerwindand the other airships were docked a short hike away. Talasyn saw the stormship first, the curve of it glistening in the seven-mooned night like the carcass of a whale that had beached itself within the mangroves. Surrounding it was a collection of bamboo huts on stilts.

As soon as she stepped onto the embankment, Vela came striding out to greet her. Sometimes it was a bit of aneventwhen Talasyn visited, everyone hungry for news from the capital, but sometimes, like now, it was just her and the Amirante, speaking quietly in the evening gloom.

The first time Talasyn visited this hideout in the mangroves, she’d been shocked by the remnant’s collective appearance. Sigwad fell under Niamha’s domain and the Sardovians wore clothes provided to them by House Langsoune, all light cotton tunics and brightly colored breeches and striped wraparound skirts. Including Vela, they looked more Nenavarene than Allfold.

The Amirante had been informed of the marriage treaty and the threat of the Voidfell by the Dominion envoys who brought over the spectral configurations as a precautionary measure. She had either gotten all the upset out of her system or was doing a spectacular job of keeping it under control; the gaze that she fixed on Talasyn was remarkably composed.

“Enough is enough, Talasyn. You have to learn how to stand up for yourself. I know that you think that you’ll be endangering us by doing so, but you don’thaveto be a witless pawn in the Dragon Queen’s games. Believe me, she needs your goodwill as much as you need hers. The Dominion has no qualms about deposing an heirless monarch—in fact, they were on the verge of doing so before you showed up. Without you, she risks losingeverything. It is time that youremindher. Do you think that you can do that?”

“I don’t know,” Talasyn mumbled. “Everyone’s afraid of her, even my father. I’m alone—”

“You aren’t alone,” said Vela. “You have Ossinast.”

Talasyn blinked, uncomprehending. The ambient sounds of the swamp filled the tense space between words and Vela leaned in closer. “Power is a fluid, ever-shifting thing, dictated by alliances. Right now, it seems that Urduja Silim holds allthe cards because she is the Zahiya-lachis.But... once you marry the Night Emperor, what does that make you?”

“The Night Empress,” Talasyn whispered.

Vela nodded. “While I can’t say that I’m delighted by it, Alaric being your consort buys us time. And it gives you—opportunities.”

“To spy on Kesath,” Talasyn heard herself saying, despite the odd jitters that coursed through her at Alaric being referred to as her consort. Not only was it easier for her to shift into battle mode now that she was in the company of her commanding officer, but the conversation had also unlocked an epiphany that had been waiting for the right nudge to blossom into wildfire. “To learn their weaknesses. To...” She trailed off, hardly daring to give voice to such a thing.

Vela finished the sentence for her. “To find the way to Gaheris.”

“We can cut off the serpent’s head, like we always planned,” Talasyn continued slowly. “Gaheris is the real power behind the Night Empire. We kill him, and it will all come crumbling down. And then we’ll figure out what to do with—”

The name caught in her throat.

“The man who will by then be your husband,” Vela muttered.

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