Page 44 of Dark as the Cursed Abyss

Chloe huffed softly and turned, stepping onto the gangplank. Farah followed close behind, her shoulder brushing Chloe’s as they boarded. This time, she didn’t lean away.

Once aboard, Kire turned to face them fully, her expression shifting—less amused now, more serious.

“You should know something,” she said.

Chloe crossed her arms. “That sounds ominous.”

Kire’s grin returned, sharp as a blade. “The crews on the other ships? They’re not soldiers. Not nobles. Not anything you’re used to.”

Farah raised a brow. “Then what are they?”

Kire’s eyes gleamed. “They’re mine. A league of pirates,” she continued, almost proudly. “The kind that don’t answer to crowns or courts. They’re here because I asked—and because they’d like nothing more than to watch the world burn if it comes to it.”

“Then we’ll try to stay out of their way,” she said dryly.

Kire laughed, loud and unrestrained. “You’d better.” She turned sharply, shouting orders to the crew as the sails began to unfurl above them, snapping in the wind.

The ropes were cast off.

The Parataxis lurched forward.

And slowly, steadily, Hespali began to fade behind them.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Farah

The sea did not sleep.

It shifted and breathed beneath them like something alive, vast and watchful. Its dark surface rolled in long, heavy swells that stretched to the edges of the horizon. Farah stood at the bow of the Parataxis, her fingers curled tightly around the damp wood of the railing as wind tore through her hair and cloak, biting through every layer she wore.

They had been sailing for days. Long enough for the rhythm of the ship to settle into her bones, long enough for the tension to coil tight in her chest without release. The fleet had spread wide across the eastern waters—ten ships under Kire’s command, five more from Hespali trailing behind like silent shadows. Sails cut against the sky in jagged lines, a moving army carved into the sea. And still, it had been too quiet.

Farah had learned long ago that silence was not peace, it was always a warning. The first sign came not with sound, but with absence. The wind shifted, subtle at first—just a stutter in its steady howl—but enough to draw Farah’s attention as her eyes narrowed toward the horizon. The waves began to move differently, their rhythm disrupted, as if something beneath the surface had changed course.

Then came the bell. A sharp, urgent clang that split through the air.

“Ships!” someone shouted from the crow’s nest. “Starboard side!”

Farah turned sharply and they emerged like ghosts. Black sails with two silver crossed snakes cut through the gray horizon, rising from the mist in a slow, deliberate line. Not one or two—but more than Farah could count on her hands. Hulls low and sleek, darker than the sea itself, their movement unnaturally smooth as they closed the distance.

A chill slid down Farah’s spine. “Hades,” she muttered.

The name felt wrong in her mouth now—heavier than before, more real. Like the moment his power thrummed throughout Odessia when he returned. Behind her, boots struck the deck in rapid succession.

Kire moved like the storm itself, eyes sharp and alive as she took in the approaching fleet with something dangerously close to excitement.

“Well,” she said, voice carrying easily over the wind, “there they are.”

Chloe appeared at Farah’s side, already armed, her expression set and focused. “Is it a scouting party?”

“No,” Kire agreed, a grin pulling at her lips. “It’s a slaughter. They had to have known we were coming.”

That was impossible. There was no way Hades could have known, and if there was a blockade between Hespali and Nexos she would have received word from other Nexian spies or, Fates, Nikolaos himself. The air shifted again, the same scent of decay and carrion from below the mountain. Then chaos erupted.

“Battle positions!” Kire barked, her voice snapping across the deck like a whip. “Archers to the rails! Prepare to turn into the wind! We aren’t running away from that bastard’s fleet.”

The Parataxis lurched as the crew sprang into motion, ropes pulled taut, sails shifting to catch the sudden change in direction. Their own fleet responded in kind, ships angling themselves into formation as the distance between them and the oncoming enemy closed rapidly.