splinters. Her body fell.
He heard her splash into the sea, but he didn’t look.
For a long moment, he stood staring. Harsh breath echoed too loudly in the Emperor’s helmet.
Idly, he realized that this was the exact spot where Shera had pushed her overboard. That seemed so long ago.
If only he had never chased after her.
He fell to sit on the stairs and began to sob. Painful, ugly cries that seemed to tear their way from his chest. He didn’t even fully understand why; his wife should have been dead to him ever since he’d found she was one of the Sleepless.
But now…
“Light and life,” Andel whispered.
Calder saw the three crew members stepping onto the deck. The ship was covered by worm pieces; he must have killed far more than he’d realized.
Foster moved over to the edge of the deck, looking down through the broken hole in the railing. Whatever he saw, he gave a low whistle. “Well, she won’t be crawling back this time. She’s gone down to…” He glanced back at Calder and coughed.
Calder’s breath stopped.
He strangled his own tears and shot to his feet.
In his head, he completed the saying.
She’s gone down to…
Kelarac.
“Please no,” he whispered.
A deep voice echoed in their minds again. No words this time.
Just laughter.
Kelarac laughed and laughed.
The water beneath The Testament began to swirl until it was like they floated on top of a whirlpool, except the ship stayed in place. With every revolution, the water turned a brighter and brighter green.
Familiar Intent filled the air, growing stronger and stronger until Calder could barely breathe. Intent of greed. Intent to possess, to own and collect everyone and everything until all things that ever existed or would exist belonged to him.
The power of Kelarac soared, and Jerri rose from the Aion Sea.
Her eyes were covered in a blindfold of steel.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The quality of mercy is among the rarest of virtues, and rarest of all in killers and kings.
—Sadesthenes
present day
In Jerri’s body, Kelarac rose into the air.
Her gold dress grew out, becoming longer and more elaborate. Jeweled necklaces shimmered into existence hanging against her chest and rings appeared on each of her fingers. All her wounds were gone. Her face was covered from the nose up in a plate of shining steel with bolts screwing it to her face. Her emerald Soulbound Vessel shone from its new steel mount at the center of her forehead.
She smiled, revealing triangular razor-sharp teeth of yellowed bone.
“This body barely passes muster…but any port in a storm, as they say. And neither of us are willing to let you go.”
Before Calder could shiver, half of a broken ship slammed into Kelarac.
The mass of wood crashed into The Testament, and the sudden damage to Calder’s Vessel knocked the breath from his lungs. His ship rocked, the crew losing their footing under the impact.
Kelarac never lost Jerri’s smile.
Green fire flared into a shield around him, and he burned through the wooden ship with just a thought. Two charred halves of the wreck slid off into the ocean.
The armored Estyr hovered over The Testament, tracking the ship she’d used as a missile. A giant iron spike stabbed down onto Kelarac.
He gestured and a massive bronze hand rose from the depths.
It seized the nail, holding it in place, as a humanoid figure lifted itself from the ocean floor. The bronze statue dwarfed the Lyathatan, and it was only when Calder saw the skulls carved into its crown that he realized it was a statue of Estyr herself.
“You would be amazed,” Kelarac said, “what mankind will trade away, given enough time.”
Overwhelming Intent blinded Calder as another statue rose, this one wearing a hat and darkened glasses. Then another, in armor and dozens of braids. Finally, a squat man carrying a staff taller than he was.
The four Regents, cast in bronze, stood guard over Kelarac.
They couldn’t have been waiting under this spot. He must have moved them in from elsewhere; Calder had already seen him summon other treasures. The Soul Collector was ready to spend the last of his collection.
And now Calder couldn’t even sacrifice himself. Kelarac had taken a host. Their final trump card had been taken away.
He realized he could see the bronze statue clearly. Bastion’s Veil had thinned almost to nothing. Either something had happened to Shera or the mist couldn’t stand up to the full power of the Great Elder.
The game was over. They’d lost.
But that was no reason to give up.
He jammed his helmet back into place and readied his sword.
To our