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“She is gone!” I yelled. Was she taken by this Astaroth they had told me about? Had Bryony come back and stolen her?

He stilled instantly, eyes moving between each of our empty cups to her full one. He stood too quickly, catching himself against the mast.

“Cruel little wife,” he muttered as he held his forehead. “She drugged us to escape.”

Fear iced through my veins.

Why would she leave me when she knew I did not have much time left?

Leave us?

Helion looked at me, every line of his face sharpening with something I had never seen on him.

Then I smelled it, the metallic scent of fear wafting off him and mingling with my own.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, stumbling for the steps, tripping over the first, hauling himself up and throwing himself at the helm. “Fuck!” he yelled again. “She is going to kill herself.”

No.

“Get up!” I yelled, my voice cracking across the deck so loudly that Solas and Aldric both jolted awake.

Solas groaned, pushing himself onto one arm while Aldric blinked dazedly at me.

I looked between them, barely able to force the words past my teeth. “Lyra is gone.”

They stumbled to their feet, Solas catching Aldric beneath the arm before he had the chance to fall.

Aldric lurched towards the rigging while Solas seized the lines beside him, both men tearing at the furling line until another stretch of canvas unfurled overhead. The sails snapped open with a violent crack, filling so hard with wind that the mast groaned beneath the strain.

Helion wrenched the wheel into the swell and the bow lifted.

The ship surged forward through the fog, but it was not fast enough.

Lyra had spoken to Cerilla less than a day ago, and now she was gone—she had drugged us, fled into the sea, and thrown herself willingly towards death.

Fucking Cerilla.

I knew my sister’s magic was tangled in this. Lyra could never have escaped Helion and me without help, and Cerilla had spent centuries deciding she knew what was best for everyone around her. She had already stolen so much time that I could have spent with Lyra before my death.

Rage burned through the panic, hot enough to make my shadows twitch across the deck. I gritted my teeth, eyes locking on the pale ship cutting through the fog off our starboard side, the same vessel that had followed us since the Whispering Isles.

Fuck this.

I tore into my shadows.

Coldness devoured me.

It sank past skin and bone, burning through what little strength I had left as my body fought the pull of darkness. Pain ripped through my chest, sharp enough to steal the breath from my lungs, but I forced myself deeper.

My shadows took what they were owed before spitting me out onto the deck of the Hell’s ship.

“Rythos?” Cerilla gasped, eyes dropping to my rotting heart. Her hand covered her mouth to catch a startled sob.

“What the fuck did you do?”

My shadows struck her like starving things, winding around her wrists and throat and ripping her backwards until her spine hit the railing.

Cerilla’s startled shout tightened my chest, but I ignored it, letting my shadows burn her.