Page 118 of A War of Ruin and Reckoning

“You’re traitors,” he declared. “Sending one of your beasts to kill us.”

Willow gaped. She’d just told him that she didn’t do it. For the first time since Willow had known her, Rory looked lost. Until now, Willow hadn’t realized the full extent of Rory’s brain damage from her father’s so-called treatments. She kept forgetting all the bad things he’d done to her, making excuses for his behavior.

After failing to be the savior he touted, the only recourse was to change the narrative and paint Willow as a betrayer. But his own daughter? He’d used her. They didn’t owe him anything.

Use it,Rory had taught her.Channel all that emotion into your fight.

Willow’s gaze hardened. “You sicken me. Nothing is ever enough for you.” She turned to the others. “He’s been manipulating you for decades, using stolen mana to make you forget the truth. He stole his daughter’s mana to do it. Talk about being a traitor.” She laughed. “He’s been using ‘tainted’ fae magic on you all for centuries. He changed your memories and made you believe he’s just recently taken over the presidency. But he’s been here for over a century. Why else do you think he traps people in the Tower? It’s easier for him to persuade smaller groups of indoctrinated people. You’re all part of his cult! But he’s—”

“Enough lies,” Nero barked.

“You won’t shoot us,” Rory scoffed, lowering her hand from her belt. “A stray bullet in the blimp’s canvas will rip a hole and release manabeeze.”

“Return the device you stole,” Nero growled, nodding to her wrist. “And we’ll let you disembark here. That’s the best offer you’ll get.”

Her furrowed gaze dropped to her wrist—to a band with a sparkling portal device wrapped around it. It was almost like she’d not known it was there. Blinking rapidly, a sharper light returned to her eyes. Her jaw set with determination, she caught Willow’s wrist and hit a button on the device.

Electricity fired through their bodies. The next time Willow opened her eyes, she was on the deck of the third airship hundreds of yards away, sailing full speed toward Crystal City. The gray blimp above their heads had fins directing the wind. It always reminded Willow of a shark.

A wave of nausea rose, and she retched. An aviator on the deck glanced over, gasping at their sudden arrival. As if immune to the disorientation of portaling, Rory pushed to her feet. That’s all Willow glimpsed before another wave of sickness claimed her.

Boots scuffled. The aviator’s cry grew shrill and then distant, falling away. When Willow could breathe again, she glanced up as Rory dropped her shoulder and tackled a second crew member, taking him to the ground. As they grappled, she shouted at Willow, “Get to the wheel! Head east.”

East. Not west.Not to Crystal City. Willow ran to the quarterdeck and latched onto the wheel’s smooth wooden poles. She pushed a nearby lever that cranked the propeller’s engines like she’d seen Alfie do before.

Alfie. Her heart clenched, and a new wave of grief threatened to overcome her.

Use it.Use your hate and pain and grief.Use it to fuel your strength.

Willow’s muscles screamed as she pulled the wheel to one side, changing the rudder’s direction and peeling skin from her fingers. Crew from below deck spilled out from the hatch, shouting in surprise. None looked like soldiers or, worse, Reapers. Willow wasn’t even sure they’d been told about their apparent betrayal. Nero must have decided right then and there that he would get rid of them. Rory overpowered the aviator, stole his goggles, then used Nero’s lie against him.

“They were traitors,” she announced. “Get back to work!”

The crew jumped at her orders, most returning below deck. A few with guilty looks stayed above to check the rigging and other jobs they’d likely ignored without a proper captain on board.

Rory limped up to the quarterdeck with wide eyes and checked they were at full speed. She gave the goggles to Willow.

“Won’t you need them?” Willow asked, squinting against the wind.

“Put them on.” Rory’s voice was low. Her hair had untied, and the long, kinky strands blew in the wind. Without the copper beads, she looked like a different person. Normal. Covered in blood and wounded, but normal. Perhaps it was the relief Willow detected on her face. She finally knew what was wrong with her mind, and this was them making a break for it.

Rory winced and checked her arm, where an open gash oozed blood.

“Keep this altitude,” she ordered briskly. “They’re too afraid of fae catching up. It’s safer here.”

She limped to the lower deck, resting against a rail to check her injuries.

Willow did as instructed, put the goggles on, and faced the bow. But she couldn’t get the bloody splashes of battle out of her mind. Her body was still raw. Her soul was so empty. She pushed the lever, cranking the engines faster. She didn’t want to slow down because then she’d have to face what she’d done. They were almost out of sight from the battlefield when one of the crew pointed behind them.

“Wait,” he shouted. “Look!”

She glanced over her shoulder. More manabeeze lifted into the sky from the battlefield. Thinking of her family, Willow’s heart clenched. She had been so close to reuniting with them. Those manabeeze might be theirs.

“We should go back,” the aviator said, looking through his spyglass. “Our harvesting net has more room.”

Maybe those manabeeze were a good sign. Maybe it meant the fae had overpowered the undead. But the moment she thought it, she knew it was wrong. The undead were as empty as she was.

“Keep going,” Rory shouted breathlessly from the railing, barely standing upright from her exhaustion.

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