“The maidens north of Lovats are as strong as ten large men!” The singing grew quieter. Strained. And even the winds seemed to weaken.

“Do not slow!” Vivia screamed, briefly turning her gaze to the fore. “Trust me!” Then to prove her point, she wrenched her arms sideways and the waters wrenched the Iris too. “To port!” she shrieked at Sotar, who instantly threw his weight into the tiller.

The ship listed, the world dragged while the drum beat on. And the singing bellowed once more: “With minds as sharp as hammered steel, when they fight they always win!”

When the ship was upright again, it was perpendicular to the approaching Dalmottis. Dangerously exposed. Dangerously visible. But ahead, the first of the rocky outcroppings waited. They would dart and hide like a minnow. They just had to reach it before—

“Cannon fire!” The ship’s girl’s voice cut through song, drum, and winds. “Two incoming!”

“I have them,” Vaness said, somehow as loud as the ship’s girl, though she did not shout. Somehow flat and detached, like the iron she controlled.

Vivia turned, briefly startled. She hadn’t realized the Empress had returned to the deck or that the woman stood only paces away, braced against the rail and watching the chase unfold.

Now her arms were rising, her face draining of blood as the two shots zoomed in. With a sharp gasp, she stopped both midflight …

Then let them fall into the sea. No sending them back. No using them against the enemy. Her arms dropped. She gripped at the rail, and Vivia knew instantly that such a display could not be repeated.

“And you’re worried I overdid myself?” Vivia hooked an arm behind the woman. “Get back to your quarters.”

Vaness resisted. “Who will stop the cannons?”

“No one, because in just a few moments, we won’t need to—”

“Cannon fire!”

“Shit.” Vivia lurched back to the rail; Vaness stumbled with her, and before Vivia could forcibly stop the Empress, Vaness had her arms high and magic out. Again, she halted the iron shot—three balls this time—but it was slower. Like trying to get a dog to change its course, they dragged to a halt. Then fell, one by one.

Vaness swayed, and again Vivia grabbed her. Rage licked up from her toes. Sharp and fueled by a hot sea. The Empress could barely stay upright. Her eyes were rolling, her posture wilting.

“Take her,” Vivia barked, pushing the woman onto a nearby sailor. Likely she’d get an earful later, but better that than a dead empress on her decks.