Furyborn (The Empirium Trilogy Book 1)

“In these dark times, not even the light of the Sun Queen is as powerful as the light waiting inside our deepest hearts, if we only have the courage to look for it.”

—The Word of the Prophet

“Hurry up,” Eliana whispered, crouching behind a stack of crates marked with the Empire’s winged emblem. The dock was slick beneath her feet, the frigid air sour and salty. “They’re disembarking.”

Zahra sighed irritably. “I’m trying. There’s a lot going on here, you know. Wait…”

Eliana tensed. “Did you find him?”

“Perhaps. Stay here.” Zahra disappeared into the night.

Eliana watched two uniformed adatrox patrol the deck of the ship to her right. A distant boom sounded from far across the water. She peered around the crates, down the narrow pier, and out to sea. Another boom snapped like an approaching thunderclap, and then another, each accompanied by distant flares of light against the starlit sky.

The main fleet, steadily moving toward Astavar, had begun to fire its guns.

“Come on, come on,” Eliana muttered.

“The far ship,” Zahra said, appearing so suddenly that Eliana jumped. “The sleek black one. Smaller than the others, with a thick hull. That’s where they are.”

Eliana let out a slow breath. “That might be a general’s boat. Ready?”

Zahra put a shifting dark hand on Eliana’s wrist. “Remember what I told you about my limited power since the Fall. I will only be able to mask your presence for a few minutes, at the most, before needing to rest again.”

Uneasy, Eliana nodded. “Save it for when we’re actually on the ship. I can get there unseen on my own.”

She closed her eyes, said a quick prayer to Saint Tameryn that she would hide Remy and the others on the smuggler’s boat—and that they would reach Astavar before the fleet did.

“May the Queen’s light guide them home,” Zahra murmured.

Eliana shot her a look.

Zahra shook back her hair. “What, I can’t pray to you now that we’re friends?”

Eliana rolled her eyes, then darted out from behind the crates and followed the docks to the farthest pier, keeping to the shadows.

Suddenly Zahra moaned, “Oh no.”

“What?” Eliana crouched beside a railing draped with netting and wiped her brow. “Wait, where’s the ship?”

“Out there.” Zahra pointed at a black ship slicing out across the water.

“Oh, sweet saints,” Eliana hissed, “can nothing in this world be easy?”

She made sure her knives were secure, then dove into the freezing water.

• • •

“Hurry,” Zahra cried above the choppy waves. “They’re speeding up!”

Eliana kicked desperately, her teeth chattering, then threw herself at the ship’s hull and grabbed a black line hanging down from the deck. At her grip, it came loose from its knot, sliding fast, and she plunged back into the sea. But she held tight and pulled herself along the rope’s length until she reached the ship once more. Muscles burning from her frantic swim, she climbed.

“I insist upon hiding you now,” Zahra whispered, floating nervously around her.

Eliana glanced up at the deck. “Not yet.”

An adatrox leaned over the steel deck railing, peering down at the taut, swinging line. Before he could raise his weapon, Eliana launched herself over the railing, grabbed Nox from her boot, and plunged it into his stomach. She clamped her hand over his mouth, then staggered with him to the railing and shoved him over the side.

From down the deck came footsteps, approaching fast.

“Now?” Zahra asked.

Eliana hated to waste the precious few minutes Zahra would give her, but capture was not an option. “Now.”

“Follow me closely.” Zahra sped along the port-side deck, the world shifting in her wake. As long as Eliana stayed safe in that distorted space, no one could see her—though someone would see the trail of seawater she left behind soon enough. They passed adatrox staring blankly outside closed doors, patrolling side by side along the deck rails.

Zahra beckoned at a door ahead on their right. An adatrox stood beside it, revolver in hand.

Eliana flattened herself against the wall, hoping the shadows would hide her. Zahra moved away, then disappeared. Two seconds later, the adatrox stiffened, his already vacant eyes turning even glassier.

Eliana hurried over, glancing behind her as she ran. With Zahra occupied, she felt horribly exposed.

“The fat silver one,” Zahra whispered, through the adatrox’s mouth—the voice part wraith, part man.

Eliana grabbed the fat silver key from the ring at his belt, unlocked the door, and let herself inside. She waited just beyond the door for Zahra to drift through the wall and join her.

Zahra shuddered. “Never enter an adatrox’s mind if you can help it, Eliana. Nasty place.”

“I’ll try to remember that.” A vacant hallway stretched to either side. Moonlight pouring through the round portholes in the wall was the only illumination. “Where do we go?”

With one long arm, Zahra pointed down the narrow, dark stairwell in front of them. “He has him below.”

Rahzavel. Eliana hurried down the stairs.

At the bottom, Zahra buckled over with a gasp.

Eliana hid against the wall, looked quickly up and down the stairs. “What is it?”

“Simon’s in great pain,” Zahra muttered. “Hurry.”

Heart pounding, following Zahra’s whispered instructions, Eliana raced through a maze of corridors, staying in the wraith’s wake to avoid the adatrox bustling from cabin to cabin. It was unbearably dark and close belowdecks, even with flickering gas lamps screwed into the walls.

At last Zahra brought her to a solid metal door cloaked in shadows.

“In here,” Zahra whispered.

Eliana stared at the door’s handle, fear pounding hard against her breastbone. Arabeth in one hand, she held her breath and turned the handle.

The door opened easily.

“That seems ominous,” Zahra whispered.

Eliana stepped inside and closed the door behind them. It was a small room, dark and choked with hissing pipes.

And in the center of it, lit by a single hanging gas lamp, was Simon.

Eliana faltered at the sight of him. He had been bound with black rope to a pole that spanned from floor to ceiling, his arms wrenched cruelly behind him. His torso was bare and blood-spattered, the scarred flesh torn to pieces from new wounds. Carvings.

“Simon,” she whispered, moving slowly to stand before him. His head hung low, his eyes closed. The thought that he might already be dead brought a terrible sadness crashing down upon her, so unexpected that the shock of it made her throat ache. “Please be alive.”

His head jerked up at the sound of her voice. “Eliana?”

She saw his eyes and recoiled. They were bloodshot and yellowed, the brilliant blue irises turned dull and cloudy. She smoothed her thumb across one of the few patches of skin not covered with blood.

“You’re going to owe me so much after this.” Her voice came out shaky. “Do you know how cold that water is?”

“No. No!” Simon struggled against the ropes. “Get out of here, run!”

Beside Eliana, Zahra shifted in surprise. “Look out!”

Eliana whirled to see Rahzavel emerge from the shadows, a thin sword in each hand. “Hello, Eliana,” he crooned. “Welcome to the end of your story.”

“Why didn’t I sense him?” Zahra whispered, her voice tight with anger under the hissing of the pipes. Then her form stiffened. “The Emperor’s touch is heavy upon him. We must leave, my queen, before Corien finds you.”

“Eliana, leave me!” Simon howled, yanking hard at his bindings.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Eliana watched Rahzavel approach, noticed the red sprays across his face and how his dark uniform glistened with blood—Simon’s blood, she assumed.

“How right you are,” said Rahzavel. “You know, don’t you, that if you try to kill me, you’ll fail, and if you make even one move at me—one fucking move!—then I’ll kill you first and make him watch.” He pointed his sword at Simon and grinned. “Either way, your little rescue mission will be for nothing.”

“Eliana, please, run!” Simon cried.

Rahzavel batted his eyelashes, whimpering. “Leave me! Oh, my darling, darling Eliana, save yourself!”

“Eliana,” whispered Zahra, floating tensely beside her.

“Shut up,” Eliana snapped, eyes trained on Rahzavel’s lithe form, watching how he moved, gauging the weight of his swords and the size of the room.

“No, I don’t think I will shut up, thank you.” Rahzavel sauntered around Simon. “In fact, I think I’d like to tell you a story. It’s about a bounty hunter who thought she was invincible, but really she was just a fool bitch who got lucky one too many times.”

“God, I’m sick of listening to you,” Eliana ground out, her body itching to move.

Then, a thought came to her. She looked to Zahra, raised an eyebrow.

“My queen,” Zahra murmured, “if I do this, I may not have the strength for anything else.”

“Do it, now.”

The wraith shot toward Rahzavel and dove straight into his smiling mouth.

Rahzavel staggered back, choking. He dropped his swords and clutched his face, stumbled back against a knot of piping.

“What is this?” His warped voice shook with the weight of Zahra’s anger. He clawed at his clothes, at his hair. “What is it, Dread? What have you done? What’s inside me? A wraith?”

Eliana stormed over, grabbed his shirt in her fist, and slammed him to the floor.

“I’m afraid, Rahzavel,” she replied, straddling his chest and wedging Arabeth’s jagged blade against his throat, “that this is the end of your story.”

Then she slashed open his throat, rose calmly to her feet, and left him choking where he’d fallen. Zahra drifted up from his body and clapped her hands together as if wiping them clean. A few seconds later all was silent—until two explosions shook the world.

The ship shuddered and moaned. From outside came the shouts of adatrox, the frantic clap of boots against the decks.

Eliana froze. “What was that?”

Zahra cocked her head, listening. Then her face darkened, an inkblot dropped into gray waters.

“It has begun,” she whispered. “The fleet has engaged Astavar.”

Eliana ran to Simon, started cutting at the ropes that bound him.

“I told you to leave,” Simon rasped as she worked. “You didn’t listen to me.”

“Does that surprise you?” She came around to cut the last two ropes. When he fell free, she tried to hold him up, bear his weight as best she could, but she was exhausted, and it had been too long since a proper meal. Her knees buckled; she sank with him to the floor, swearing under her breath.

“All right,” she said, trying to slide out from under him, but his body was a deadweight, pinning her to the floor. “Come on, get up. We have to get off this boat and make it to shore while everyone’s shooting at each other. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

He didn’t answer her. He was laughing—looking up at her from his spot on her lap and laughing at her.

“Oh, Eliana.” Dull tears slid out of his eyes. “If only you knew. There are so many stories I need to tell you.”

“I’m sure that’s true, but can we do it later?” She shoved at him again, but he was shaking with laughter now and wouldn’t budge.

“I’ve seen this before.” Zahra pointed at his eyes. “During the invasion. Poison gas.”

“You’re saying he’s blind?”

“For now. Sometimes the eyes repair themselves. Other times…”

“Wonderful. That makes everything easier. Simon?” She slapped him lightly on the cheek. “If you don’t move, I’m going to get angry.”

“Do it,” Simon whispered. “Get angry for me. Sweet, sweet Eliana.” He raised a trembling hand to her face, smoothed his thumb across her cheek. “It’s just what I want.”

“I’m hardly sweet,” she protested with a slightly nervous laugh. They ought to be moving, but she could not tear herself away from him.

“I can’t see you very well,” he said. “A blur of color, shadows for eyes, but I know your face even so. I’d know it anywhere.”

“You’re speaking nonsense. Do you know that?”

“I didn’t tell him anything,” Simon whispered urgently. “I would never. Never. Not about you. He could have cut on me until the end of time. He could have whispered in my ears until he killed me from the inside out.” He laughed again, but it sounded horribly sad. “It wouldn’t matter. I’d never tell him about you.”

She watched him struggle to his knees, dig for something in his trouser pocket.

“Where is it?” he whispered.

The ship shuddered once more. Rapid gunfire sounded from above; a horrible scraping sound shrieked along the hull.

“Simon, we have to go.”

“Where is it?” He yelled the question, a sob tearing his voice in two. “I lost it; I lost you!”

Then, with a small cry, he pulled a filthy rag from his pocket and held it out for Eliana to see.

“This,” he murmured, “belongs to you.”

She stared at the rag, at a loss. Was his mind breaking at last?

Hovering at Eliana’s elbow, Zahra shook her head. “I cannot see inside him. His thoughts are tangled with storms.”

“I tried to hold on to you.” Simon fumbled to fold the rag into her fingers. Then he lifted their joined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “But I couldn’t. The thread was too strong for me. I was too young for it. And then your mother…”

“My mother.” The Blood Queen. If she believed that. Did she believe it? Tears gathered in her eyes. They didn’t have time for this, but if she moved away, the moment would snap, and she might never find it again. “Simon, what are you saying?”

“We are the only two left, Eliana. You and me. The only two who lived there.”

She ducked down to look at his face. “Where did we live? Tell me.”

“Celdaria.” He drew in a shuddering breath. “I tried to hold on to you, but time tore you away from me. We were only supposed to go to Borsvall. They were going to hide us from him.”

All the air left her lungs. Her mind raced. “From who? Corien?”

“He’ll never touch you. I lost you once, but I won’t ever again.”

She kept her hands folded around the little scrap of rag. Out of all things, she couldn’t move past one tiny question: “But, what is this?”

He looked down at the rag cupped in her palms and smiled.

“Your blanket.” The sorrow in his voice pierced her heart. “She wrapped you up in it, and when the thread ripped you out of my arms, it tore. I’ve kept this piece with me because it reminds me…of everything. Of home. We were so small, Eliana. And then I brought us here, and ruined everything. I failed you. I failed everyone!”

An explosion detonated; the ship rocked, heaving them both to the side.

“Eliana,” Zahra said tightly.

“I know.” Eliana cupped Simon’s face, looked into his ruined eyes. “We’re going to run now, and I can’t carry you. You have to help me. Just like you did before, in—” Her voice caught. Her necklace felt too sharp and cold beneath her shirt. “In Celdaria. Right?”

He nodded, then heaved himself to his feet. She propped him up against her side, slung her arm around his shoulder. Zahra leading the way, they limped out into the corridor and up the narrow stairs. Another explosion sounded, knocking them against the wall. Eliana hissed at the slam of Simon’s hard weight.

“Just give me a moment,” he said, his face tight with pain, “and then I’ll walk on my own.”

“I’m sorry, I know you’re hurt.”

“Don’t apologize to me, Eliana. Not ever.”

When they stepped outside onto the main deck, Eliana stopped cold.

A broad bay flanked with tall, jagged rocks and scattered with small icebergs stretched before them. Two lines of ships faced each other across a narrow expanse of black water choked with flaming wreckage. Beyond the water, crowded with soldiers, a white beach hugged a cluster of night-shrouded hills.

Astavar.

She stepped out from under Simon’s arm, made sure he could stand. “Zahra? Can you hide us?”

Zahra shook her head, mouth in a frustrated line. Her form faded, then flickered back whole. “I don’t think so, my queen.”

Eliana exhaled. “Perfect.”

“Stay close to me, step where I fly. I’ll find the best path I can for you.”

“We survived the end of the world, you and I,” Simon murmured, squeezing Eliana’s fingers. His breath puffed in the air. “We’ll survive this too.”

A chill seized her at his words. Then she tightened her grip on his hand, and they ran.