Page 85 of Fate Promised

The boat tipped sideways again, but she barely noticed. She shivered harder, and her magic slid against another’s. She concentrated, letting her magic grow a little bit more. In the back of her mind, she was aware of just how much she was burning through, but she kept on. Her magic coated another blue blast and doused it.

A loud caw cut through the wind. Sapphire light erupted in a sea of sparks, and the wind died. The boat righted with a great lurch, the wood beneath them groaning. The surrounding waves swelled once, twice, then the bay quieted.

She sagged against Juri, who wiped salt water from her brow.

“I’m never getting on a damn boat again,” Kyril said. He stood a few paces from them, holding on near the helm. He shook his head and sprayed water.

“Well, you didn’t fall overboard,” Juri said. “Which is good because no one was going to fish you out.” Juri wrapped his arms around her, and she warmed.

Kyril growled, then stalked back to the bow to join the other vulk.

Hazel bent at the waist, clutching the deck railing with white-knuckled hands. The silvery light of the moons made her face even paler. Triska slipped from Juri’s arms and joined her. She put her hand on her arm. “You all right?”

She nodded. “I’m okay, but I used a lot of magic.” Hazel straightened. “I heard an ala.”

Fergal wrung out the bottom of his robes. “We should have guessed the ala may still be around.” He eyed Triska and frowned. “You doused her?”

She nodded. “Enough to make her stop doing whatever she was doing.”

“How much did you burn?”

She swallowed and glanced away. “Not much.”

Juri joined them, standing next to her. “I’d like to know why an ala is helping a necromancer.”

In the distance, a dark shape flapped away to the north. Hazel pointed. “She’s gone now.”

Triska nodded. “She won’t have her magic for a while.”

Fergal brushed his palms against one another. “Time to get to work.” He turned to Triska. “You ready?”

She nodded, her throat tight.

The sails filled as the wind picked up, guiding the boat toward the island again.

36

“Bring in the sails!” one sailor cried as Hans clapped Juri on the shoulder.

“It’s time for us to kill some necromancers,” Hans said.

Juri glanced at Triska, and his heart rate doubled. Delivering her into danger felt wrong. Everything about tonight felt wrong.

It was like she was here, yet not here. He’d kept a close eye on her as they sailed, and she hadn’t seemed to lose herself in the water, so that had made him feel better, but still, something felt … off. Ever since she’d come to the boat after seeing her father, she’d had an expression on her face he couldn’t understand.

Juri glanced at her one more time, then nodded toward the side of the boat. “You ready?”

She nodded.

When they reached the beach, he led the way to the cliffs. The vulk sped like shadows, flying soundlessly down the path. He kept Triska at his side with the magicwielders bringing up the rear. As the trail ascended and reached the edge of the forest before the cliffs began, Juri slowed. Campfire smoke trickled on the air, and voices carried through the trees.

A single trill from a bird rang out overhead, and a rush sounded through the leaves. Rain. Drops pelted his face. “Damn rain drinker.”

Next to him, Kyril wiped the rain out of his face. “What?”

Triska pointed upward. “It’s a bird that calls the rain.”

Kyril growled. “Of course it’s a damn bird.”

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