Page 16 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

“I wouldn’t expect anything less, Commodore.” Agatha rolled her white eyes.

“I know you don’t believe it,” Erick shifted back to Kora. “But you are my family. I will protect you at all costs from the empire. I will do whatever I can to make this right.”

“She knows who her true family is,” Agatha bickered. “The Windwards will find her.”

“You . . . you know the Windwards?” Kora sat back away from Erick.

“I’m an old hag, I know a lot of things.” Agatha reached out, blindly fumbling for Kora. Her braided grey hair had been swept up onto the top of her head, the lighter strands running through it still sparkling. Aside from her stained clothing, and aged appearance, Agatha seemed unharmed, and still her coy self.

Her curled fingers swept over Kora’s face and she tsked at her gaunt frame. Agatha continued exploring Kora’s features, stroking the ends of her hair before she gasped at the metal wrapped around Kora’s throat.

“The empire knows no bounds to their cruelty.” Agatha’s voice darkened, and Kora shuddered at the depth it reached. Around her light brown wrinkled neck was a matching collar, and the same with Erick. “They treat us like chattel.”

“How long have you been in here?” Kora peered around the cell. Identical to her last one, with the large empire insignia carved into the right wall, the four sharp points stretching across the space.

“They put me in here after the forest.” Erick shivered, rubbing his peppered arms. “Agatha arrived shortly after. I don’t think we would’ve made it this far without Ivar’s help.”

Kora’s stare snapped back to Agatha. “Why you? Why hasn’t Ivar tried to get you both out?”

Agatha’s all-seeing white eyes flickered, her lips curling. “The same reason as to why they have allowed us all to be together now. They’re trying to hurt you, my child.”

“This place is a fortress,” Erick added quickly. “Ivar has only survived by hiding in the shadows.”

“Hurt me?” Kora exhaled shakily, her mind torn. She was beyond relieved to see them both, and Ivar, but worry and fear quickly chased it, dragging torment along with it. She couldn’t protect them. Her power was gone, and she was unsure whether it would ever return.

“I won’t let them,” Erick snarled, and Kora blinked at his resolve.

They guided her to the far corner as the dungeons darkened, using the wooden bed to shelter themselves from the wind as Erick draped the thin blanket over them.

“Where’s Sam?” Kora mumbled, her mouth dried and her mind fogging. “Do you know anything about Theron? Will Ivar come back?”

“I haven’t seen Samuel or Theron,” Erick replied. “Ivar can’t jeopardise his position. Barron is on the move, so you need to rest, Kora. I need to keep you safe until you regain your strength. We can discuss everything tomorrow.”

“You can’t protect her forever,” Agatha chided. “She has a greater purpose.”

“Kora can pave her own path. The gods can’t force her to do anything,” Erick shot back. Kora sighed as they continued bickering, unable to summon the energy to form words on her lips or keep her eyes open. Gods, had they been bickering like this for over a month? Maybe Ivar’s hiding place in the sewers would be better. Her entire body screamed with fatigue, and her heart swelled with simultaneous betrayal and relief.

As the darkness deepened, and the familiar beat of the guard rotations vibrated across the floor, Kora nestled between Erick and Agatha, grateful for their warmth and brief reprieve of safety as she succumbed to sleep.

7

Kora

Cadell! Stand back!”

“I am standing back.” Erick’s smooth tone wrapped around Kora’s mind, coaxing her from the depths of slumber.

“I mean it. Get any closer and I will use this weapon,” the familiar voice threatened.

“I’m five feet away, as per the rules, Garvan.” Frost coursed through Erick’s reply, and Kora shivered, slowly sitting up. Agatha hovered behind Erick, her curled, knobbly hands resting on his back. He’d put on Blake’s jerkin, the leather stained and reeking from waste, and it barely tied around his wide chest.

Kora’s gaze swung to the cell entrance. Blue-steel armour covered Garvan’s body, and his shining bald head blazed in the sombre red torchlight. Not one hair graced his face, and those once kind brown eyes had hardened, as well as his clenched fists.

“If you make any moves, don’t think I won’t kill you where you stand, traitor.” Garvan gestured to the huge sword strapped to his back.

Erick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We do this dance every morning, Garvan. I promise I won’t touch you.”

Garvan grunted. “Tell that to the guard you put in the infirmary last week.”