Isra bowed her head. “Handled like a king.”

There was no time to relish it.

The Sanctuary bells had gone silent with the rest of the city, but here in the palace, a clock began to chime. No one else stirred, because no one else had been counting time, but Rhy straightened.

Kell had been gone four days.

“Four days, Rhy. We’ll make it back in that. And then you can get yourself into trouble….”

But trouble had come and gone and come again without any sign of his brother. He had promised Kell he would wait, but Rhy had waited long enough. It was only a matter of time before Osaron recovered his strength. Only a matter of time before he turned his sights back on the palace. The city’s last defense. It sheltered every waking body, every silver, every priest, guarded Tieren and the spell that kept the rest asleep. And if it fell, there would be nothing.

He’d made Kell a promise, but his brother was late, and Rhy could not stay here, entombed with the bodies of his parents.

He would not hide from the shadows when the shadows could not touch him.

He had a choice. And he would make it.

He would face the shadow king himself.

* * *

Once again, the captain of the guard barred his path.

Isra was his father’s age, but where Maxim was—had been—broad, she was lean, wiry. And yet she was the most imposing woman he’d ever met, straight backed and severe, one hand always resting on the hilt of her sword.

“Stand aside,” instructed Rhy, fastening the red-and-gold cape around his shoulders.

“Your Majesty,” said the guard. “I was always honest with your father, and I will always be honest with you, so forgive me when I speak freely. How much blood must we feed this monster?”

“I will feed him every drop I have,” said Rhy, “if it will sate him. Now, stand aside. That is an order from your king.” The words scorched his throat as he said them, but Isra obeyed, stepping out of the way.

Rhy’s hand was on the door when the woman spoke again, her voice low, insistent. “When these people wake,” she said, “they will need their king. Who will lead them if you die?”

Rhy held the woman’s gaze. “Haven’t you heard?” he said, pushing open the door. “I am already dead.”

VI

The Ghost had exactly one dinghy, a shallow little thing roped against the ship’s side. It had one seat and two oars, meant to carry a single person between vessels, or perhaps between the vessel and the coast, if it either couldn’t dock, or didn’t want to.

The dinghy didn’t look like it would hold four, let alone get them all to shore without sinking, but they didn’t have much choice.

They lowered it to the water, and Holland went down first, steadying the little craft against the side of the Ghost. Kell had one leg over, but when Lila moved to follow, she saw Alucard still in the middle of the deck, attention trained on the distant fleet.

“Come on, Captain.”

Alucard shook his head. “I’ll stay.”

“Now’s not the time for grand acts,” said Lila. “This isn’t even your ship.”

But for once Alucard’s gaze was hard, unyielding. “I am the victor of the Essen Tasch, Bard, and one of the strongest magicians in the three empires. I cannot stop a fleet of ships, but if they decide to move, I’ll do what I can to slow them down.”

“And they’ll kill you,” said Kell, swinging his leg back onto deck.

The captain offered only a dry smile. “I’ve always wanted to die in glory.”

“Alucard—” started Lila.

“The mist is my doing,” he said, looking between them. “It should give you cover.”

Kell nodded, and then after a moment, offered his hand. Alucard looked at it as if it were a hot iron, but he took it.

“Anoshe,” said Kell.

Lila’s chest tightened at the word. It was what Arnesians said when they parted. Lila said nothing, because good-byes in any language felt like surrenders, and she wasn’t willing to do that.

Even when Alucard wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

Even when he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“You’re my best thief,” he whispered, and her eyes burned.

“I should have killed you,” she muttered, hating the waver in her voice.

“Probably,” he said, and then, so soft his words were lost to everyone but her, “Keep him safe.”

And then his arms were gone, and Kell was pulling her toward the boat, and the last thing she saw of Alucard Emery was the line of his broad shoulders, his head held high as he stood alone on the deck, facing the fleet.

* * *

Lila’s boots hit the dinghy floor, rocking it in a way that made Holland grip the side.

The last time she’d been in a boat this small, she’d been sitting in the middle of the sea with her hands tied and a barrel of drugged ale between her knees. That had been a bet. This was a gamble.

The dinghy pushed away, and within moments Alucard’s mist was swallowing the Ghost from view.

“Sit down,” said Kell, taking up an oar.

She did, reaching numbly for the second pole. Holland sat at the back of the little boat, casually rolling up his cuff.

“A little help?” said Lila, and his green eye narrowed at her as he produced a small blade and pressed it to his palm.

Holland brought his bleeding hand to the boat’s side and said a phrase she’d never heard before—As Narahi—and the small craft lurched forward in the water, nearly throwing Kell and Lila from their bench.