I nod grimly, and she doesn’t ask any further questions. She gestures toward the waiting ship. The figures of the crew scurry aboard the deck.

The ship is small in comparison to the others, but it’ll suffice. Phaut ushers Maiya and Morun up the gangplank, and I trust by the way someone readies to cast off the lines that she has settled their passage and they’ve agreed to a hasty departure. Only the captain pays the shamanborn any attention, greeting them curtly.

“Hurry.” I gesture for Kudera to follow the others.

She hesitates, twisting the hem of her shirt around her fingers. Then, to my surprise, she hugs me. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“I only guided you to a ship,” I say.

Her arms tighten around my shoulders, her bony joints digging into me. “If you ever have need of us, send word, and we will come.”

Her promise makes my throat go tight. Because it’s suddenly difficult to speak, I can only nod. Phaut and I stand watch until the darkness claims the ship’s figure and they’re in no danger of being intercepted by the Royal Army that patrols the coast.

I wait to feel something like joy or relief. Instead, I feel hollow. Kendara never appeared. I am no closer to saving Saengo than I was a few days ago. On top of that, we saved three shamanborn out of the ten who entered Vos Gillis with Kudera, out of the twenty-three who came south with her. This is not a victory.

“My sister,” Phaut says abruptly. I look at her, but her gaze remains fixed on the dark waves. “We came across a lightwender once who’d been attacked by a beast. He was a lightgiver, and he would have died, but he used his ability to transfer the life energy within my sister into himself, prolonging his life long enough for help to arrive.”

“That’s why you dislike lightwenders,” I say. No wonder she’d been determined to distrust me when I arrived.

She nods. “He didn’t even ask her permission. She almost died.”

“That was a cowardly thing to do. I hope he paid for it.”

“Some people simply can’t be trusted to wield that kind of power.” She turns from the sea to meet my eyes. “But risking your life to help these shamans … that was good of you, Sirscha. I’m sorry you didn’t find your mentor, but I’m glad we did this.”

A bit of that hollowness within me fades. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You there!” a guard shouts.

“Damn it,” I mutter.