“A good story,” the leader of the soldiers says. He takes a step closer to Sergio, blade pointed at him. “But we have a description of the ship that the Night King’s soldiers believe their fugitives sailed away on. It is undoubtedly yours. Congratulations.” The soldier raises his voice. “Show your face, illusion worker, or some up here may start losing their heads.”

Violetta looks at me. Her dark eyes shine. If only we’d stayed above deck with the others, I could have disguised our faces and attacked the soldiers before they ever boarded the ship. But now there is an Inquisitor standing right in front of us, the closet door still ajar, staring through us as if he might see something any moment.

The Inquisitor standing in front of us looks up and draws his blade. In doing so, he bumps Violetta hard. Violetta stumbles back with a grunt—it is all the Inquisitor needs to look sharply back at us. He narrows his eyes. Then he lifts his sword to chop at the air in the closet. At us.

Thoughts flash through my mind like lightning. I could just stop this Inquisitor and save Violetta and myself. If we flee this ship without uttering a sound, we could leave Sergio, his crew, and Magiano to handle the Inquisition. When we dock, we could simply sneak off the ship and make our way undetected into the city. Forget about my newfound Elites and protect ourselves.

But instead, I clench my teeth. Sergio is one of mine now. And if I hope to have allies at my back, I’ll have to stand up for them.

Violetta shoots me a wide-eyed look as the Inquisitor’s blade flies toward us. That is all the encouragement I need to unleash my energy.

The Inquisitor suddenly stops his attack in midair. His eyes bulge. He trembles, then opens his mouth into a silent scream as I reach for him and weave around him the illusion of a thousand threads of pain. His sword clatters to the floor as he falls to his knees. I erase our invisibility—I see the shock in his eyes as we suddenly appear before him.

Violetta crouches down to grab the sword. As she points it at him with shaking hands, I turn my attention to the standoff above us. My energy whips out at the Inquisitors there. The threads latch on to them, painting the illusion of hooks digging deep into their skin, yanking them down into the ground and beyond.

They scream in unison. Sergio seems stricken for a split second—but then he snaps out of it right away. He hops over their writhing bodies and attacks the closest Inquisitor who has headed down the passageway at him. The clang of blades rings out. Magiano crouches down to the fallen Inquisitors and starts to tie their hands as quickly as he can.

“Let’s go,” I say through gritted teeth. We step out of our hiding place. The Inquisitor on the ground makes a weak attempt to grab Violetta’s ankles, but she yanks herself out of the way, then turns the sword around in her hands and brings the hilt of it down on the soldier’s jaw. He goes limp.

“Nicely done,” I say, giving my sister a tight smile. A year ago, I would never have expected her to be bold enough for that. Violetta takes a deep breath and gives me an anxious look.

We hurry out of the cabin and into the dark corridor, then up the steps leading to the next level. When we finally reach the others, I skid to a halt. Several of the crew are inspecting the Inquisitors tied up on the ground, while Sergio and another man are securing bonds on another one. He looks up at us. There is wariness in his eyes as he regards me.

“I never witnessed what you did to the Night King,” Sergio says. “But I saw the looks on these Inquisitors’ faces when you attacked them. That was you, wasn’t it? What did you do?”

I swallow, then explain what my illusion over them had been. My voice is calm and steady.

The other crewmember helping Sergio now looks at me. “We were all a bit skeptical of you when you first came on board.” He regards me carefully. “I’ve never seen such fright on grown men’s faces.”

This must be one of Sergio’s fellow mercenaries. I nod, returning his stare, unsure of what it means. Now I notice that several of the others are staring at me too, as if seeing me for the first time. I glance around, searching their expressions, then let myself dwell on the Inquisitors moaning on the ground. If they hadn’t recognized me earlier, they all seem to know who I am now. My gaze shifts from one to the next, settling finally on the one lying closest to me, a young soldier who still has some bewildered innocence left in his eyes. My energy feeds on their fear, strengthening and replenishing itself.

If the Inquisition is searching Campagnia like this, they must have expanded their efforts out from Estenzia. Does that mean Teren will be here, looking for us too? Does that mean that he is starting to round up all malfettos here?

“Where’s Magiano?” I finally say.

Sergio nods to the ladder. He waves for us to follow him. We make our way up the ladder and onto the deck of the ship, where Magiano is waiting for us. The Campagnia harbor draws close, while behind us, the Inquisition’s ship stays where it is, quiet.

Magiano has his hands tucked into his pockets. When he hears us approach, he leans toward me and gives a casual nod toward land. “We will continue to sail into harbor,” he says, “and leave the Inquisition’s ship to drift at sea. By the time anyone onshore figures out that something has gone wrong, we’ll have long dispersed into the city.”

“What about the Inquisitors tied up below?” Violetta asks.

Magiano exchanges a glance with Sergio, then looks at me. His eyes are serious for a moment. “Yes, what should we do about them?” he asks. “No matter what, we’ll undoubtedly bring the Inquisition’s wrath down on us. They’ll hunt us relentlessly.”