Page 159 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

“Pirates!” Hector bellowed. “What’s the first rule of the code!”

“We stand as one!” They returned, stamping their feet.

Garvan’s arm wavered in clear shock. Pirates had always been depicted by the empire as greedy, each out for their own survival. Little did they know pirates had devised a new code for their path of survival since the conquest.

And they were defending Kora’s back.

She smiled as Hector leapt forward, his falchion sword clashing with Garvan’s mighty weapon.

70

Raiden

Lightning collided with Raiden’s blade as he slammed down onto the deck, a gust of wind exploding from his core, knocking back his enemies. He twisted as a sea of black and green armour circled him, pressing in, causing his eyes to water from their foul stench.

“Barron!” Raiden coaxed, raising his sword as it crackled with his power. There was no response, and those soldiers advanced, their hands reaching mindlessly, their eyes lost behind the slits of their helmets.

“I know you’re here!” Raiden followed, spinning as doubt crept up the back of his neck.

“Foolish boy,” a light voice answered, and dread danced along his skin as a female walked through the endless soldiers. They filled every space available, crammed in shoulder-to-shoulder. Yet, she glided around them, her gown flowing behind her, her feet bare as she pirouetted around statues of death.

Raiden blinked, his sword wavering as she invaded his circle. Waves of thick, brown hair framed a slender pale face. Her large green eyes drew him in, and her red lips pulled into a skin-crawling smile.

“Who are you? Where is Barron?” Raiden glanced behind him as soldiers neared.

The female laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You Galenites are always so hot-headed. Never been able to see beyond your own swords.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Raiden snapped as he backed towards the main mast. “Barron is here. I can feel his magic. Come out, you fucking coward!”

She cackled again, her hands clasping at her chest as she exhaled. “Foolish, foolish Windward. Just like your father. Arrogant and stupid.”

Raiden winced, his back now against the mast, the shaft of wood the only shield he had as soldiers closed in from both sides. The female approached from the centre, her stare sparkling, her feet silent against the wood.

“Your desire to be the victor has cost you, Raiden Windward. You left your home unprotected. You left Kora unprotected.” She was only a foot away, and she smirked at the lightning dancing across his sword. “Your magic is futile here. There’s no place for the Devani gods in a world ruled by true darkness.”

Raiden raised his sword, but his arm shook. The bond was still shut, but his fear was crawling up his throat. Something was wrong. “Tell Barron to face me now.”

She grinned. “My husband’s not here.” Her voice lowered, taking on a striking edge, and Raiden’s heart stopped as shadows wriggled around her feet, leaking into the green of her eyes. “And he’s not the only one who controls the dark.”

Barron’s wife struck, her magic colliding with Raiden’s lightning. Decayed vines wrapped around the sword, snuffing out his magic as she tossed it to the side. The mast creaked, as thick bands of tar latched onto him, chaining him to the base as she laughed. With the flick of her wrist, those raven claws returned, scraping down Raiden’s mind, hooking into the wall he’d built for the bond, trying to tear it down.

“Let’s see what’s inside that pretty head of yours,” she crooned. Her eyes didn’t flash purple as he expected.

Raiden yelled, his magic pushing back against the darkness. His chest heaved painfully, and rain pattered from the sky, gently falling as thunder boomed in time with the waves of pain. “What . . . are you?”

Her smile vanished as she knelt before Raiden, taking his face in her cold hands. Droplets of rain balanced on the strands of her hair, and for a moment, she almost looked godly. “There’s always a puppeteer behind the master.”

Her constant riddles confused him, and Raiden tried to wrench his chin out of her icy grip. Her nails dug in, crushing his chin, cutting into his skin with cold sharpness. She laughed again as his blood trailed down her fingers, and Raiden jolted. The laugh was eerily similar to Barron’s, its sinister tones the same as the ones he’d heard within the crow’s nest.

She licked his shimmering blood from her hands and her pupils blew wide.

“Oh!” Her hands hovered around his face, trembling as she grasped him again. “Oh, oh,” she moaned, her curved body way too near for his liking. “Aren’t you something special?”

“Get the fuck off me,” Raiden snarled. “Where is Barron?”

She tutted, rolling her eyes, and twisted Raiden’s head to face the island. With a wave of her hand, the soldiers parted, showing him in the distance, a ship with red sails, flanked by a black empire vessel.

And shadows were writhing around it, spreading onto Hector’s ship, submerging both ships into a pit of darkness. He thrashed against her grip and it tightened, gouging into the wounds, his blood flowing onto her hands. “Look, you impatient fool.”