Page 37 of Renegade Kingdom
I didn’t know what to do with that. So I did what Rhidian would have done. I focused on what needed to happen next.
I nodded at the crew, and with careful, reverent hands, they lifted Rhidian’s encased body and carried it to the railing. For a moment, they held him there, suspended between the ship and the sea.
Then they let go.
The golden shell blazed as it fell, catching the light like a fallen star. It hit the water without a splash, as if the sea was opening its arms to receive him. He sank slowly, the warm glow illuminating the depths, and I watched the light grow fainter and fainter until it was just a glimmer far below.
Until it was gone.
For a long, breathless moment, nothing moved. The sea was glass. The air was still. The entire realm holding its breath.
Then the waves returned. Gentle at first, a soft rocking that built and built until the ship was swaying with the natural rhythm of the ocean. The sails filled with wind, the canvas snapping taut, and the ship groaned as it lurched forward.
The realm had said its goodbye. Now it was carrying us onward.
I looked at the crew and found them watching me. Waiting. Without Rhidian, there was no captain. No one to give orders, to set a course. The ship was adrift without its heart.
“Take us south,” I said. “Back to the Spring Court. We’ll part ways where you anchored before. The rest can travel on to the Summer Court if that’s what they wish.”
Then I turned to one of the crew I recognised. Hadrian. A broad-shouldered man with weathered hands and a rope of scars running down his left arm. He’d been at Rhidian’s side longer than anyone on this ship, his first mate, his most trusted advisor.
“Can you captain the ship?” I asked.
Hadrian studied me for a moment. Something shifted behind his eyes. An assessment. An acceptance. Then he nodded once, turned on his heel, and started shouting orders at the crew with a voice that could cut through a hurricane. Sailors scrambled to their positions, adjusting rigging and checking lines, and the ship came alive around us.
Tank appeared at my side, and I leaned into him without thinking. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, solid and warm, and I let myself soak up the comfort. Just for a moment. Just long enough to breathe.
We made our way back to the cabin. All five of us, filing into the space that still smelled faintly of Rhidian’s maps and leather. Dean leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Tank lowered himself into the chair. Maddox sat on the edge of the bed, turning his hands over as he stared at the marks of the Summer Court coating his hands. Ryder folded himself onto the floor with a map spread across his knees.
“Was that normal?” Dean asked without preamble. “What happened out there with the magic?”
I shook my head slowly. “I’ve never seen it before. But I’ve heard of it. My father used to tell me stories when I was little about the old rituals. The way magic would gather to honour the fallen, coating them in light before they were returned to the land or the sea.” I stared at my hands, remembering the golden light pouring through them. “I always thought it was just a tradition that fell out of fashion centuries ago. I’m starting to realise it must have been more than that. One more mystery to try and solve when we get to the Fifth Court.”
“Are you still sure that’s what you want to do?” Maddox asked carefully. “We could fortify the Spring Court instead. Make our stand there.”
“The Spring Court fell once before,” I reminded him. “And I’m done hiding. We need to end this, but more than that, I need answers. About my magic, about what I am, about how to stop Arik for good. The Fifth Court is where those answers are.”
No one argued. I felt their trust through the bond, solid and unwavering.
“What about the magic from the other people on the ship?” Ryder asked. He was tracing routes on the map, but his attentionwas clearly elsewhere. “You all felt it too, right? Those threads coming from everyone?”
“They’re not drained,” I said slowly, the implications still settling in my mind. “Not completely. Not the way we assumed. There’s magic in them. Faint, barely there, but it exists.”
“Do you think breaking Arik’s connection to the Endless broke whatever he was using to siphon their power?” Ryder sat up straighter, his brow furrowed. “Could he be using them like batteries? Drawing from them constantly to fuel himself?”
“Maybe. And if that’s the case, then every Endless we free could be making him weaker.”
“Or it could mean nothing,” Dean said. “We can’t plan around a theory.”
“No,” I agreed. “But it’s worth investigating.”
“There was magic coming from Damon too,” Dean said, his tone shifting. He looked at me directly. “Stronger than the others. You noticed.”
The others looked at him, then at each other. Maddox nodded slowly. “I felt it.”
“Same,” Ryder confirmed.
I took a breath. This was the part I’d been turning over in my head since the moment I’d touched Damon’s mind.
