Page 18 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

“I know more than you, boy.” Agatha’s ethereal gaze landed on him and a chill swept through the room, followed by a faint ring. “Do not test me.”

Calypso spare her.

“Will you both stop bickering?” Kora sighed, sipping her water again. It was nearly empty, and she grimaced. “Barron has declared war on all populations. Anyone who doesn’t possess magic that he values is on his kill list. Whatever happened in the past is history. We must look forward and stop the war, before he destroys the islands.”

Erick’s gaze flickered at her words. His past was excluded from this equation. For now.

“Or before Azaria invade once again,” Erick added. “I’m sure the king will know by now his son is missing.” Kora’s heart skipped, wondering where Theron was being held in the Citadel’s labyrinth, or if he was still alive. Hopefully Ivar would find him soon.

“Erick . . . I need to know,” Kora placed her cup down, squeezing her fingers tight as she braced herself for a question that’d been burning within her mind for over a month. “Is my father Davy Jones?”

“Yes,” he answered simply. Kora was shocked to hear the truth spill so quickly.

“And you sent him to the bottom of the Black Abyss?”

“Yes,” his voice wavered, and he shifted uncomfortably in Blake’s tunic.

“Is he still alive?”

“I . . . I don’t know. I’m sorry, you deserve only the truth, but it’s been ten years. I’m not sure if Davy could even survive.” Erick attempted reaching for Kora, but she shuffled back, deflation smothering her, the hay biting into her skin, and he winced.

“What about my mother? Did I have any other family?”

Erick froze, his hand still outstretched. “No. Davy said it’d only ever been the two of you. When I tried finding out more he . . . let’s just say he wasn’t happy. I promise I don’t know any more than that.”

Kora frowned. What did that even mean? Who was her mother? Where had Kora come from? Erick sat back, the hay crinkling around him leaving tiny red marks on his exposed skin. He rubbed his chin, and sighed as he visibly braced.

“Please believe me when I say that I tried protecting you after what happened. Barron was obsessed with capturing you. He never alluded to what his plan for you was, but I suspected it was the . . . unfavourable kind. I couldn’t let him. I couldn’t live with what I’d done. I tried to hide you from him for so long.”

“You should’ve tried harder,” Kora snapped, a tide of anger rising within her, laced with disgust at Barron. He was still obsessed now, his thunderous gaze always lingering too long, leaving an iced hole in her soul. “I refuse to be his trophy. I refuse to play his game. I won’t stop until his head rolls.”

“You’ve grown into a fine woman,” Agatha mused, placing her weathered hand on Kora’s knee. “And your power has been re-born.”

“It’s gone.” Kora waved a hand, straining as she tried manipulating the final droplets of water in her cup. “My essence is empty.”

“An essence is never empty, my child. It will return, I can sense it.”

Erick sighed as he swallowed a hard lump of sea biscuit. “I thought I’d been protecting you all this time, shielding you from the old world. But you still found it.”

“And good thing she did,” Agatha scolded. “She would’ve been lost if she remained under your wing. At least I taught her about her heritage, about Devania.”

“Don’t start fighting again,” Kora moaned. As Erick’s warm eyes captured her, she spilled her secrets to him. From visiting Agatha, learning about Devania, magic and the gods, to becoming fluent in its language. How she came across the talisman, and it unleashed her power, resulting in the mess they were now in.

“And there’s something else,” she whispered, her gaze darting from Erick’s paled face to Agatha’s cunning twinkle in her eyes. “Remember I said I heard a voice, when I first recovered from the . . . attack?”

Agatha smiled as Erick nodded, and Kora’s words tumbled from her lips. “Well, it never left. I heard it for ten years . . . and it was Raiden the entire time. I thought he might come for me, rescue me from Barron . . . but it’s been over a month. I’m not even sure if he heard my call.”

Agatha cackled in response, her hands waving up in joy. Erick gaped, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. “You knew Raiden all this time?”

“No . . . I thought the voice was my imagination. But during the battle with Galen, I realised it was him.” Kora glanced at Agatha. Had that dream been real? Had Agatha entered the void and encouraged her to let Raiden in? Her eyes were still white, and not the dazzling array of colours within her precious mental dome. Perhaps that was it all had been. A dream.

“The gods’ fate will always run its course,” Agatha hummed, delight gracing her face as she beamed at them both.

“And what do you know about the gods?” Erick sighed, sitting back against the hay as he nibbled on a biscuit, a frown etched so deep into his brow Kora worried it’d become permanent. She laid down next to him, taking tiny bites of the stale bread. Her stomach revulsed at the invasion of food and the haunting memories of the dungeon.

“A commodore isn’t experienced in faith,” Agatha chirped, Kora’s revelation elating her. “But the gods will retaliate. As I said, my child, power is never lost, it is simply reborn. The Devani gods created these lands, and they never abandon their creations.”

You are worthy in the eyes of the gods.