War Storm (Red Queen) - Victoria Aveyard Page 0,132

over the ship. Letting it crash and consume, dousing the fire.

Only for another shell to hit them dead-on, this time from Ptolemus’s ship on their opposite side. I can’t help but grin, almost cheering him on.

Again Cal runs flame across the battleship. More flee, more jump. Another wave. Another shell. Another flame. The rhythm pulls back and forth.

My teleporter jumps us between the turrets, and each time we find more soldiers to fight off. Reds, mostly. Silvers don’t work ships in great numbers, only as officers. They’re easy to deflect, between my ability and the Montfortan’s.

If I could, I would have him jump me to Cal. He doesn’t have the stomach to kill Iris, but I certainly do. The Lakelands are already furious with us after their king’s death. It won’t matter if she dies too. In fact, it might send them scurrying back to their lakes and farms, to rethink standing against the might of Samos and Calore.

But my job is to man the guns. Hold the ship.

With Cal battling Iris, her attention is off the Bay, and our soldiers begin the crossing. During our third pass down the ship, more teleporters jump onto the deck, bringing with them six soldiers each. And more soldiers arrive in the boats below, fast on the approach.

I squint at the far battleship, watching as I land another round. This one hits hard, punching a smoking hole in the hull a few yards above the waterline. On deck, the sight is terrifying. The clouds darken overhead, thick with lightning. Fire and water collide over the battleship, inferno and tidal wave. The ship tips with the force of such a battle, one royal Silver against another. Warriors equally matched and unevenly set.

For the first time in my life, I truly wonder what will happen if Tiberias Calore dies.

I think Iris is going to kill him.

TWENTY

Mare

The miles are few, but they feel endless. I keep my grip on the door handle, ready to spring out the second we roll onto the Port Road, wheels spinning beneath us. It’s just me, the electricons, and our driver. Even Ella is silent, staring out the window at the darkening sky. The smoke of New Town gives way to black, acrid clouds the closer we get to Harbor Bay. At first I’m grateful that I don’t have to speak to anyone. But as the minutes wear on, the silence grows thicker, heavier, pressing down on me. It makes it difficult to think of anything beyond the city ahead and the battle raging there. In the distance, the horizon seems to burn.

My mind spins out, filling in the blanks of what we might find. Each scenario is worse than the last. Surrender. Defeat. Farley dying. Tiberias pale and bleeding, his blood a silver halo.

The last time I was in Harbor Bay, I traveled through tunnels and alleyways. I didn’t tear through the streets in a military transport, escorted like some kind of dignitary or noble. I barely recognize the place.

I expect opposition as we roll into the city, but the battle lines are farther in than I thought. The streets are largely empty of everything but soldiers. All ours, marching to their posts or working their patrols. Once or twice, I spot a contingent of coalition soldiers flanking prisoners. Silvers handcuffed in iron, being led away to wherever we might be keeping them. Davidson’s orders, I assume. He knows how to leverage prisoners best.

The transport angles beneath me, beginning the gentle descent to the harbor.

“The coalition is forming up on the waterfront, fortifying our position before they try to push back into the fort,” our driver calls back to us. A radio in his console blares mostly static, but a few jumbled words get through. He relays what he can. “Sounds like the Air Fleet is holding the Nortan jets out at sea, and we’re doing what we can to win the warships in the harbor, but there’s Lakelander ships on the horizon.”

Across from me, Rafe curses under his breath. “Well out of range,” he mutters.

“Let me be the judge of that,” Ella replies sternly, still at the window.

Tyton leans back in his seat, his lips pursed. “So we hold the city. For now.”

“Seems like it,” I reply, still wary as ever.

The transport rolls on, passing larger buildings and more important-looking places. My body is tight as a coiled wire, ready to react if this calm is just a trap. A feint to lure Tiberias and the others into a