Riot of Storm and Smoke Read online

“Time. Perspective. Acceptance. I think you’ve had the first. But could do with the other two.”

  I close my eyes and swallow the lump in my throat. Da is gone. I’m not who I thought I was. I know both of those things. I’ve accepted them.

  Haven’t I?

  “And how did you get that—” I wave my hand “—perspective or what-have-you?”

  She settles back. “Well, I thought on it, without actually concentrating on the elements. I let myself rage over Ekaterina. I got stinking drunk a time or two, but most importantly, I gave myself permission to forgive my sister in spite of all her trespasses. And I let myself think about who I was without being an Elemental or a lieutenant.

  “To be frank, I hardly know you,” she says. “But somehow I am sure that a title isn’t who you are either.”

  It’s harder to feel the disconnect from Throwing when water surrounds me on all sides out here. It’s like a word hovering on the edge of my tongue that I can’t quite remember. An object placed just beyond my reach. But after my conversation with Elena, I make an effort to leave it there and let it come when it’s ready.

  Instead, I fill my time playing card games with the crew and walking the deck with Aleta, often joined by Tregle. The fresh sea air seems to help her seasickness more than resting below deck, where she doesn’t have anything to concentrate on but the rocking and swaying of her world, without the comfort of the moving horizon to reconcile the feeling. She shushes me when I try to ask how she and Tregle came to be so close again.

  I suppose I’m not the only one who’s putting thoughts of the future out of their head.

  There are times when I almost think I feel Da with me, too. The wind plays with tendrils of my hair as I imagine his commentary, and I hide the quirk of my lips by smiling at the ocean.

  I spar with—and get trounced by Liam. At least until the captain of the Sumerki intervenes, telling us we’re interfering with her crew’s duties. I drink a bit with Meddie, pitting bar maid against bar maid. She wins, though I swear it has a great deal to do with the alcohol on board. I call it a night when my limbs grow pleasantly warm and my lips tingle. Elena smiles when she notices me taking her advice, and afterward, I tumble against Caden eagerly. He’s good at making all of my parts tingle.

  And he’s good at silencing the worries in my mind, too, by steering them well clear of anything to do with Elementals. Or war. We’ll have to talk in Nereidium, but until then… The thought dies as his thumb grazes my hip. Until then, I think firmly and turn my attention to more pressing matters, leaning against Caden like we have all of the time in the world.

  Alone and feeling a great deal lighter, I walk up to the deck one evening, breathing easily in the mist of salt and sea that swirls up from below.

  A crew woman catches sight of me, and her lips part in surprise as she finishes the knot on the rope she’s tightening. “Don’t stay up here long.” She points to the clouds hanging low in the sky. “Gonna storm, we think. Best for all of you without sea legs to be down below.”

  I very nearly answer with a mocking salute, but pull the gesture back at the last moment. She’s only trying to help. I nod, and she moves on to her next task.

  “That should be fun.” Aleta’s voice comes from behind me, dry and unamused. She’s settled comfortably on the floor, leaning against a mast, and has full color in her cheeks, which surprises me, given her propensity for seasickness. Her arm curls in the crook of one knee with the other sprawled out before her.

  “You look well,” I say, a bit surprised.

  “Elena gave me an elixir,” she says, standing. “She was shocked that I’d never received it before when I told her how the sea affects me.”

  My gaze slides back to the waves, empty of their usual glitter with the sun obscured behind black clouds. A fish leaps out alongside the ship. “King Langdon loves a show,” I murmur.

  “That he does,” Aleta agrees.

  The crew woman wasn’t wrong about the clouds. They settle down like a fog, the ship skimming through it as it settles on its steady trajectory.

  “Have you spoken to the captain?” I ask her. Makers, the fog’s so thick that it’s like we’re standing in the clouds themselves. Even standing this close to her, it’s as if I’m looking at her through mesh. “The Sumerki’s smuggled into Nereidium before, yeah? They should have some sort of an idea how much longer we’ll be on board.”

  “I’ve talked to her.” Meddie joins us at the railing, turning so her back rests against it. “She was optimistic. Said they’ve never had such accommodating weather on one of their runs. Said a week longer, at the most. And that was a few days ago. Could be any day now.” She eyes the gathering storm clouds uncertainly. “Of course that was before…whatever this is.”

  Any day now. I’ll meet the only blood I have that still lives. Before anyone can see the swirling emotions this thought provokes, I narrow my eyes at the fog. “Good,” I say.

  The more I think on it, the better I feel. I’ll keep my mouth shut about my birth parents. Aleta’s a much better fit for the throne anyway, and there’s no reason she shouldn’t rule. But there’s nothing to say I can’t get to know my aunt as a person. Nothing to say I have to tell them that I was born Aleta of Nereidium to learn about the people who gave birth to me. It’s no disservice to Da. In his way, he’d tried to protect me, but I’m sure he’d understand the burning need I feel to know more about where I came from.

  This decision made, I inhale a little deeper, breathe even easier.

  “You ready for that? Meeting your people?” Meddie asks.

  “Yes, I—” I falter as I turn, my smile fading when she and Aleta look at me strangely. Right. She was talking to Aleta. Of course. Coughing to cover my mistake, I mutter, “I mean, I’m ready to get off this boat al—”

  A tremendous crack splits the air.

  Violently, the ship rocks, the wind rushing past my ears. Grabbing a nailed-down crate, Meddie and Aleta seize each other by the elbows to keep from going over the rails. My nails dig furrows into the wooden railing as I pitch to the side, muscles locking to stay on board. Not everyone’s so lucky. Three of the crew land in the water mid-scream. One of them is the woman who warned me to get below decks.

  The deck comes alive as the ship rights itself. Bells clang. Cries of “Men overboard!” as people rush to and fro. I whirl, trying to get my bearings.

  Slipping up the steps from the ship’s bowels, Elena’s eyes are wide. “What in the Makers’ name was that?”

  “Came from that way,” Meddie says, jerking her chin.

  Wordlessly, I turn in the same direction, heart pounding. That was no thunder. My finger points to the cannons I cannot see in the distance.

  “Can you see anything?” I ask quietly.

  “No.” Elena’s eyes squint, trying to make anything out. A whirl of her arms, and the fog clears in a gust of wind.

  Meddie whistles lowly. The bottom of my stomach drops, and I swear with vehemence at the sight of several ships.

  There are tiny pinpricks of light in the darkness. Bobbing around the small fleet, they almost look like stars or fireflies or lanterns. We know better. It’s Torcher fire at the ready, prepared to light a fuse for Ruin’s Reaping if we don’t surrender.

  A small hand covers mine, and I turn to see Aleta, gazing horror-struck at the picture before us. “You’ve had no luck?” she says softly.

  I wish I could say otherwise. With great regret, I shake my head.

  She takes a deep breath and nods.

  “How many of them, do you suppose?”

  “Five, I think.” Elena answers before I can.

  “All right. Well.” Meddie squares her shoulders. “Thoughts?”

  Without the fog obscuring everything around us, I can see the specter of an island in the distance. Inwardly, I laugh bitterly. I have no map, but I’m sure it’s Nereidium. That just figures. We’ve come so far only to be intercepted now.

  Caden bursts onto the deck, halting whe
n he sees the chaos and our bleak expressions. He reaches for me. “I heard the explosions. What is it? What’s happened?” I let him enfold me in his arms as his eyes slide from us to the horizon. I know he’s seen his father’s ships when I hear his quick intake of breath.

  “What will we do?” he asks.

  “What can we do?” I reply. “This isn’t some ordinary battle. It’s Reaping. Someone give the captain the order. Let her know to surrender before the bastards kill us all.”

  Elena grabs a deckhand to relay the message. He nods, scuttling across the deck to tell his captain, who shouts the order. The crew heave at the ropes to change our sails from indigo to white.

  I raise my head to the sky. Surrender. It hardly seems conceivable after the long, hard road we’ve fought. The surrender sails are about halfway up, our capitulation halfway given. In the cleared fog and the bright white light of the moon, they’re easily visible as Caden dives at me, screaming.

  “Get down!”

  I’m rocked to the floor, head ringing as a loud boom sounds and the ship quakes. Shaking, I push off Caden’s tangle of limbs, his hurried hands inspecting me for injuries, and turn to see the mast, fractured and splitting at the seams. “Was that…?”

  He nods grimly. “No Reaping, but they’re not holding their fire.”

  “The bastards.” I scramble up and heave myself against the railing, screaming hoarsely as I shake my fists toward the Egrian forces. “We’re trying to surrender, you idiots!” I pant, deflating. If they take away surrender—survival—as an option, what’s left but certain death?

  “They could give two turds that we’ve surrendered.” Meddie dusts herself off and meets my eyes. “I think this makes it clear that their orders are to kill. We’ll have to fight.”

  “His supposed leverage over Nereidium is on board.” I gesticulate wildly in Caden’s direction. “His son is on board.”

  “She’s right.” Aleta pushes to her feet from where she’d dove onto the ground. She holds up a hand before Meddie says anything else. “Trust me, Mistress Medalyn, I am as shocked that we’re of an accord as you are. But it’s clear they don’t care for our declaration of surrender. Langdon has made it perfectly obvious that his preference is for dominion over my country than family or peace. But I will not lie down and make this easy for him.”

  Five warships to our singular smuggler. I look at them again, the fireflies still flitting around their hulls, each a symbol of our doom. We might as well lie down.

  No. Aleta and Meddie are right. If our fight ends here, we might as well take some of them with us.

  The rest of the crew spills from below. Tregle, Lilia, and Liam, awakened by the tumult, shoot over to us.

  “We’re under attack?” Lilia pants.

  I nod. “We’ll need to join the crew, see how we can be of help.”

  They’re tugging their small supply of cannons into place for return fire. A cannonball-sized chunk of lead lands in the pit of my stomach.

  I’m not sure we’ll survive the night.

  We all scatter, looking for somewhere to assist. Tregle and Aleta sprint to the upper deck, spurred by Elena, who motions the handful of Elementals we have on board to join them—the better to see properly and direct their fire. I stay where I am, watching them. I’d only get in the way up there.

  Tregle makes a slow pulling motion, and the air over the ships ignites, raining down pellets of fire, a hail of it. It’s successful for a moment until the Egrian Torchers stand at attention, too, and the hail-flame changes directions, streaking across the sky toward us. Aleta leaps forward, palm out, and it stills in mid-air.

  Elena crouches, takes an obvious deep breath, and releases it in the direction of the middle ship, circling her hands around her mouth as the air gushes out. The ship quells, wobbling and crashing to the left.

  Our own rocks with another explosion, and the two men manning the nearest cannon go flailing over the rails. Meddie and I exchange a quick glance before we’re straining against the cannon, pushing it back into place.

  “One down. Four to go. Think Elena can do that again?” she asks in a low voice.

  I grunt, not answering, teeth gritted as we shove the cannon forward. I hope so. If she can, we may actually stand a chance, but she’s said that Riding was more Kat’s gift, not hers.

  “I’ll say this for her,” Meddie says, grinning. “She may be the twin of someone you didn’t like, but she’s more than held her—”

  A boom swings into her stomach, propelled forward by a cannonball. Her knives thunk out of her pockets onto the deck. I have only a split second to register her expression of pain, shock, and surprise before I realize she’s falling, arms outstretched, over the side of the ship.

  “Meddie!”

  Her hair trails above her face, her mouth still frozen in that expression of surprise. A knife flies from her pocket and plonks into the water—

  And then the ocean swallows her whole.

  I strain against the railing, screaming her name. My eyes race over the ocean’s surface, but it betrays no indication that she’s anywhere near. Was that a hand? I spot a flicker of something tiny and flesh-colored before it’s devoured by the waves anew.

  “Bree?” Caden pants, running over. He looks from the water to me with obvious worry.

  “Meddie,” I reply curtly. Seconds are ticking by. Precious, unforgiving seconds that Meddie’s lungs are without air.

  It won’t be your first drowning, something sinister reminds me.

  No. No, damn it all. “Give her back,” I say lowly. My fist clenches as I address the sea. “You will give her back.”

  The ocean below us rears, and Caden starts beside me. “Bree, it’s…”

  “I won’t lose anyone else,” I say, ignoring him. This is between me and the water. My powers are a bargain that’s been made with it, and it will hold to its side of that. “Give her back!”

  My fist thrusts into the air, and like a geyser, water shoots onto the deck, soaking all of us. Meddie’s limp form is curled on the planks, and a deckhand pumps at her chest and breathes into her lungs until she coughs in response, turning onto her side to vomit up massive quantities of water.

  She’s back. I take a deep breath.

  And so are my powers. I curl my fingers in toward my wrist and close my eyes. The water feels like a rushing river in my veins.

  Kat appears next to me. Fire is alight in her eyes, her irises sparking with determination. “The king took my sister from me. I can take something of his.” Her gaze moves to Elena, still leading the rest of the Elementals. Kat’s twin shouts orders, and her arm burns through the air like it’s a creature born of flame. “Tell her I’m sorry.” Now her eyes shift to my right. “What do you say, Ardie? One last grandstand?”

  Ardie?

  My heart pounds and I turn slowly.

  Da’s ghostly form shimmers to life, a hard look on his face. “Hell, yes.”

  A laugh stumbles out of my mouth, tripped by a sob. “Da?”

  The smile I know so well tilts his silvery face. “I’ve been waiting, my girl. Been with you all along, waiting to be of some use. Think I found it.”

  I reach for him, but my hand goes straight through. He ghosts a kiss on my forehead, and I close my eyes for a moment, trying to feel his presence instead of just the fist-sized lump in my throat.

  “I’ll be with you still.” He steps away, eyes lingering on me, and then turns as he and Kat step overboard.

  He can’t—My heart bolts to my throat, but the two ghosts float in mid-air.

  As one, he and Kat swirl their arms through the air like they’re drawing a circle. It would be impossible to miss the gusts of wind swirling around them, even for the people who can’t see them.

  On the upper deck, Elena whirls, her hair flying about her cheeks as she looks for the source. Her eyes land on them, and a hand goes to her lips briefly before it falls to her side. “Ekaterina,” she mouths and puts a hand out toward them.

&n
bsp; Da and Kat pay none of us any mind, their hands moving faster. The air spins, pulling the water into its grip, a clear cyclone forming. I’m spellbound as they nudge it forward, releasing it on a deadly track toward the Egrian ships.

  It does its job well. A flanking ship is decimated, splintered by the unfeeling twister. When it fades, all that’s left is the ruins drifting on the tide. Wooden planks. Flotsam and wreckage. Scattered bodies.

  Kat’s already gone when the twister clears, but Da turns to face me. Meeting my eyes with gravity, one arm crosses his midriff and he bows deeply. As though to royalty. A tear squeezes out, and I nod.

  Then he’s gone. Vanishing like he was never here to begin with.

  And the battle around me comes screaming back to life.

  “Breena! Breena!” Aleta is hoarse from shouting. I wipe my eyes to clear them, but it’s hard with the smoke tainting the air around us. I jog up the steps to her, and her expression changes as a shadow streaks over the ship.

  “Makers damn it, get dow—” Her words are cut off by another explosion as one of the Egrian cannons strikes true. It slams into the hull, and the stern ignites instantly.

  Ruin’s Reaping. Here at last.

  Our Torchers spring instantly into action, but try as they might, the Reaping refuses all of their attempts to wield it, blazing toward us.

  Elena is the first to capitulate. Then Aleta. Resigned, she turns into Tregle’s arms, one hand climbing his shoulder. I think I see the glimmer of a tear on her soot-streaked cheek before her free hand reaches out to grasp mine.

  The Reaping’s flames race from the stern. Below us in the waves somewhere, there are dozens of crewmen, the captain included. There are some of Liam’s men and people that Caden rode in with—people whose names I haven’t even had the time to learn yet.

  But even I can’t tell where they are in the water. The sea is alive in a riot of storm and smoke. It swims through the air. It lands on my tongue. It stings my eyes.

  We tried to defeat the King of Egria.

  And we failed.

  All of that sacrifice. The lives lost. For nothing. The king has won. He’s won everything.