Zander studied the readouts as Rae said quietly to one of the guards, “Will you please get him some coffee?”

He heard Carson grant assent and a guard walk out, closing the door behind him.

Zander had never piloted a boat like this. It was bigger than he was used to, longer and broader at the same time. The controls were different, but thank the Goddess he was a quick study. Piotr was better at this than Zander—the man could drive almost anything—but Zander’s instincts were Shifter, and he had the feeling he would need every single instinct he possessed to take them out of here. He’d love it if Rae could lift Jake out of her pocket to help, but it was probably safer for the poor guy if she didn’t.

“Starboard, five degrees,” Zander said to the pilot. “Where is that crag—the one that looks like a diving cat? There it is. What are we doing all the way over here? You two were going to run us aground in about five minutes.”

Piotr took this admonishment without a qualm. “Then we have five minutes to spare.” He looked into Zander’s face as though to ask, You okay?

Zander gave him a nod. The tranq hadn’t been that strong.

Miles kept his hands on the controls. What the hell was he doing working with a guy like Carson? There was a story there that Zander wanted to know.

“Dead straight,” Zander told him. “No, don’t turn.”

A wall had risen in front of them but Zander had encountered this before—in this particular area sunlight glittering on the droplets in the fog made it look solid.

Miles had already jerked the boat. Not good. Zander shot his bound hands out and grabbed the wheel.

“Everyone hang on to something!” he yelled.

Zander cranked them hard to starboard. The remaining guard lost his balance, stumbling, and landed on the floor. Carson kept to his feet, scowling. Rae, sensibly, sat down.

“I could do this better with my hands free,” Zander said. The boat leapt under him, the large thing too ponderous for this tight space. Why the hell had they risked bringing it into the Graveyard?

“No,” Carson said in a hard voice. He alone remained steady, his pistol unwavering.

“You want me to get us out of here or not?” Zander lifted his chained wrists toward Miles. “Can you open these?”

Miles instantly backpedaled and Zander grinned at him. Miles would feel the bite of Fae magic in the chains but it would never do for Carson to find that out.

“I don’t have the key,” Miles said breathlessly.

Zander offered his wrists to the rest of the room. “Anyone?”

“Zander!” Rae said in alarm.

The boat had shot through the curtain of glittering, icy fog, but now they headed straight for a black protrusion of land. Zander glanced at it, calculating how much time before they rammed it.

“Take these off and I’ll get us out of here safely,” he said to Carson. “If not . . .” He glanced at the swiftly approaching rock and shrugged.

Carson didn’t move, pistol held in a professional grip. “Do your best, Shifter.”

At that moment a brilliant light flashed outside, followed by a clap of thunder. Zander laughed.

“Oh, good. A rainstorm. Might clear up the fog.” Zander shrugged again. “Or it might make it worse.”

Another flash lit up the cabin, with another burst of thunder almost on top of it. The lights in the wheelhouse sputtered and then all the controls suddenly went dead.

Piotr cried out in alarm. Both he and Miles grabbed the wheel, which, if they were lucky, mechanically controlled the tiller and didn’t need power to steer it. The boat listed to the right and Zander staggered.

“Hurry up,” he growled at Carson. “You either trust me or we’re all dead.”

“After you’ve sabotaged my ship?” Carson said, his blue eyes like pieces of ice.

“Sabotage? When did I have the time? I’ve been chained up and locked in a cage. I can’t control the weather. That’s up to the Goddess and her friends.”

Carson’s eyes narrowed but there was some intelligence behind his obsession. He had to concede that Zander couldn’t possibly have organized a thunderstorm or for the controls to go down.

Carson dropped his hand to his belt, then rage flushed his face as he realized he’d never retrieved his keys from Rae.

His brief distraction gave Zander his chance. Zander shoved his wrists at Miles, touching the chains to the man’s face. Miles let out a scream and scrambled away from him.

Carson reacted swiftly. He had his pistol up again and pulled the trigger.

Rae had left her seat and now bowled into him, a wolf snarl in her throat. She hit him hard, sending him to the floor.

Zander glimpsed Carson’s utter shock and then fury as it dawned on him that Rae was Shifter. Idiot. That’s what the man got for underestimating females.

The bullet that had left his gun went wide, embedding itself in the wheelhouse’s ceiling. Piotr had grabbed the wheel and was spinning it this way and that without much effect.

Carson was fighting Rae, who’d managed to knock the pistol out of his hand. Zander paused to admire her technique—she might have been awkward while training with the sword but with straight wrestling, she was scrappy.

The guard, a big, bulky man, was too busy battling his own inertia in the spinning boat, and the guard who’d gone for coffee was flat on his stomach on the deck outside. Miles, with Shifter ease, regained his feet and was back at the controls, flipping levers.

Zander had to get out of these chains. Only one way to do it.

He closed his eyes, drew on every meditation technique he knew, discarded most of them, and finally simply said a prayer to the Goddess.

Don’t let this hurt too much.

He let his bear mind overtake his human one. The polar bear woke up, shaking off the last of tranq, found his paws wrapped with thin, Fae-spelled chains, and became very, very angry.

Zander rose, and rose, and rose, his human limbs becoming bear’s, thick white fur bursting onto his body. His clothes split and fell away. Long black, razor-sharp claws grew as his hands became giant paws. In only a few seconds, Zander’s great head touched the ceiling, and the wheelhouse suddenly filled with a gigantic, seriously pissed-off bear.

He roared as he brought his paws apart to break the chains.

These weren’t ordinary chains though. They were specially wrought silver, made by Fae to contain Shifters. Some of the half-Fae shits lived in this world among humans—humans didn’t know they were half Fae—and specialized in Shifter restraints. They’d made the cage Zander had been locked into below, a tiny room set aside for the purpose. Ezra had been shoved into a room down the corridor.