More cannons blasted—not just from the Lioness but from other ships too. At least five others, now steering this way guided by magic and oars and well-aimed sails. Lights flared across the decks, sailors scurried, and their weapons fired as fast as pistols.

It was too much for Vaness to hold off. It shouldn’t have been—she had toppled an entire mountain—yet for some reason, this was proving too much. So Vivia bolted across the deck. No words for Sotar as she sprinted by. He might have been off the seas for almost two decades, but he wielded the tiller with natural ease. His shoulders bulged as he pushed into each movement. His voice boomed over the madness of battle.

Vivia reached Vaness, braced against the balustrade while two sailors shoved fresh shot into the Iris’s cannon. They ignited the tip; light flared and hissed, unmagicked but deadly.

Then the cannon let loose, and iron rocketed outward, guided by Vaness’s magic. Which was wrong—all wrong. She should not have needed fire. She should have been able to launch those cannons by herself.

The cannonball connected with the Lioness’s foremast. It snapped in two before colliding next with the mainmast.

“Hold steady!” Sotar bellowed, and the Iris listed sharply to starboard.

Vaness fell. Vivia lurched for her. Caught her right before she went overboard. She was cold to the touch, and when Vivia got her upright again, she found the woman’s face pale. Blood trickled from her nose.

“What’s wrong?” Vivia scooped an arm beneath her.

“Nothing.” Vaness tried to pull free. Tried to reach around and grab at new cannonballs whizzing this way, but Vivia held her back and shoved her at the closest sailor. “Take her,” she yelled.

“Get off me,” Vaness snarled, and suddenly she was at Vivia’s side, glaring death. “Do not interfere with me again, Majesty.” Then, as if to prove she was fine despite the blood oozing down her chin, she lifted her hands and caught two more iron balls hurling there.

They slung about in midair in sharp, vicious arcs before flying back toward the decks they’d just abandoned and shooting right back into their cannons.

One explosion. Two. The Lioness went up in flames. Which meant now was the time to sail. “Don’t pass out,” Vivia ordered, but the Empress only bared her teeth. They were bloodied too.

There was no time to fret over Vaness though or wonder what was wrong. The Lioness was scrambling to stay afloat, and the Iris could not miss this chance. Come, Vivia thought, calling to the waters. Begging to the waves. Carry us high and carry us fast.