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“You once asked me if I wanted to know my fate,” I said slowly. “Has my fate changed since I touched this ocean of power?”

“Fates do not change, I told you that once,” Spider said. “But I begin to see yours more clearly and I am glad I never told you it.”

She left me there, empty seedpods at my feet, still rubbing my finger over the evidence of magic.

Tallu came out after a time, urging me back inside for a meal. During lunch, he and General Saxu worked together, refining their plan, creating alternatives, discussing the possibility of using Kacha’s own weapons against him. Spider watched me, her gaze assessing, as though she was weighing me and trying to decide if she should act against me. I swallowed, focusing on the meal, unable to taste any of it.

By the end of lunch, Tallu and General Saxu seemed to have come to an agreement, and the old war horse showed why he was so good at leading men into battle. Despite having missed most of the campaigns in Tavornai, he displayed an intimate understanding of the geography. Even Spider seemed intrigued by his suggestions, her gaze sharpening as she considered his words.

“We can try,” Spider said. “Ropes are in short supply and we need them for the ships.”

“But they are not impossible to get?” Saxu said.

“No. Vines might be easier. I will be out on the water, building your bridges anyway. Vines are easy in comparison,” Spider said.

“I can help with the bridges,” I started to say.

Both Tallu and Spider looked at me sharply.

“You have done too much already,” Tallu said. “You will rest.”

“At least until you are not depleted of natural magic,” Spider said.

She didn’t give any of her words a special weight, but somehow I felt that word ‘natural’ like a blow. That meant there was something unnatural about the ocean of magic I had taken to using, or at least something she felt was deeply suspicious.

I wanted to grumble and complain, but I could feel exhaustion in my body, in my bones. We were barely past noon, and I felt like I could sleep for a year.

After lunch, Spider directed the fleet, using Saxu’s war plan as a template. She took out a smaller fishing boat with Saxu to check the area of swamp he wanted to trap Kacha’s men in. That left me and Tallu alone.

Nohe appeared, more ragged than before, and Tallu directed her to give me a bath and a set of clean clothes. As she ushered me into Tallu’s quarters on the ship, she apologized in advance. There wasn’t enough fresh water on the vessel for a full bath, so instead she and one of the other servants sponged me off, their touch gentle and professional, cleaning the dirt and sweat and dried blood from me. I stood, warm water fading to cold as the air brushed over it on my skin. Goose bumps rose, and I thought of the battle I had fought against Kacha’s men.

When I had been riding the forest dragon, it had felt so far away. A thousand men killed, and I had done that. Afterward, Tallu had even thanked me. What kind of monster was I?

I didn’t even dare ask the question that haunted me. What kind of monsters were we?

They dressed me carefully, and I couldn’t help but notice the patching, the stitching along seams where our travel had damaged the clothes. Nohe had clearly taken the best of my clothes, washed them carefully, and then done her utmost to fix them for me.

When the other servant left, and Nohe was finishing her work, I asked, “Why did you stay with us? You could have fled at any point, and neither Tallu nor I would have hunted you down.”

Nohe stilled, stepping back. She watched me with wide eyes. Finally, she said, “Homisu said you were worthy of serving. I agree with him. If my small work here helps you, then it is worth it.”

I closed my eyes, nodding. Then, with my voice thick, I said, “I would like some privacy.”

I knew that wasn’t how Tallu would say it. He had been born to this life. He would have dismissed her with a casual, “Leave.”

Nohe bowed, forming her fingers into a triangle. She closed the door behind her, but on a ship, even one as large as this one, I could still hear people on the other side of the door, people on the deck above, and the groan of wood on the ocean.

I sat on Tallu’s bed, putting my head in my hands. I couldn’t feel my magic inside me. Animal speak had always felt natural. None of us asked how much magic we needed for it, because it was simply there. But ever since Kacha had damaged my brain, stolen it from me once, I found myself aware of exactly how much I needed. And right now, I had none.

In my head, I could practically hear Yorîmu. “You still have your blades. You still have your body. I did not teach you to kill men with magic.”

I tried to smile, but felt it falter on my face. Something tapped at the window, and I looked up to see Terror on the other side, the white line of feathers on his breast glinting in the sunlight. I pressed my hand against the pane of glass, but windows didn’t open on the ship.

The bird tossed his head in irritation, flying up and disappearing out of sight.

Lying back on the bed, I slept, grateful that no strange dreams of the kind that had plagued me the night before disturbed my rest. When dinner was served, Nohe brought it to me on a tray. Tallu was still busy with Saxu and the rest of the commanders.

The itch under my skin got more severe when night fell. Still tired, I made my way to the deck of the ship. Tavornai glowed orange. I could see fires burning in it, and fear clenched my heart. Had Kacha begun burning the forest we had just grown?