A stream of red flames flew past Saul’s shoulder, blackening what remained of his sleeve. The skin beneath seared with the pain of a fresh burn. He ducked another burst of fire and lunged toward Irene and Hush, eyes half-blind from the bright afterimage.

  Hush flew off Irene’s shoulder. Sparks scattered from his wings as he circled beneath the tarp.

  Irene paced toward the edge of the deck, putting distance between herself and Saul. He followed her warily, trying to keep Hush in his field of view. The hawk-child circled around one side, passing out of his vision. Though Saul tried to track the bird, he knew he couldn’t turn fast enough.

  Saul made his decision. He sprinted toward Irene.

  She shook her head. “It’s over Saul. You can’t dodge what you can’t see.”

  Fire roared toward him from behind. He flung off his backpack with Rult inside it. He tossed the pack toward Luther, even as he threw himself in the opposite direction. Flames singed his fingers where they wrapped around the sword’s hilt. The small needles of pain weren’t enough for him to let go of the weapon. His shoulder hit the raised railing at the edge of the deck with a crunch and a new ache.

  He lowered the sword point and faced Irene along the railing. Hush shrieked and continued to circle, but now Saul was too close to Irene for him to risk shooting more fire. Saul grimaced. The pain in his hand and shoulder added to that of the wound he had taken fighting Rufus. “What was that about this being over?” He staggered toward her.

  Her face darkened. “You think you’ve won just like that? Arrogant as ever, Saul.”

  “I thought I was pathetic and weak.”

  “Your flaws make a long list.” Irene backed away slowly along the railing.

  Saul prowled toward her and raised his sword. Hush gave another cry and circled back around in front of him, heading for Irene through the air on one side of the flagship. Saul kept his eyes on Irene. “Yeah, I know.”

  A wave of gern glided past the ship, some on wings and others on thermal vents. Hush darted between the creatures and approached the ship again. Saul glimpsed him from the corner of his eye as he drew closer to Irene. There was no fear in her eyes despite the proximity of his sword just a few feet away.

  The bird ascended rather than landing on Irene’s shoulder again. Saul lunged at Irene as Hush’s beak opened. Rather than fire, a length of steel emerged from Hush’s beak, a sword almost twice the length of Hush’s body dropped into Irene’s hand, hilt first. She knocked the point of his blade away with her new weapon.

  Shit. Irene had always been better than him with swords. He had been foolish to think she wouldn’t have hidden one somewhere.

  Irene closed her eyes for an instant. Her lips moved rapidly but silently. Flames erupted from the central blood channel of her sword. Her eyes opened and she thrust the flaming blade at Saul.

  He dodged back, not wanting to risk being burned in a parry without knowing more her ignition blade. She followed up with a slash toward his head. She had been right, this fight was only just beginning. He ducked low, supporting himself against the railing.

  Irene reversed the swing and angled it toward his arm atop where he gripped the railing. Saul moved backward, releasing the cold metal. Pain burned through him as the tip of the sword cut along his forearm. Flames leapt and sizzled. He escaped the strike without his remaining sleeve catching fire. Blood trickled from the new cut and pain screamed through his nerves.

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  He stumbled and lurched to the side. His feet somehow avoided entanglement with each other, and he stepped behind a slender metal pole that supported a section of the tarp.

  Irene paced around the opposite side. Hush landed on the railing on the side of the ship and shrieked. Another blast of fiery breath couldn’t be far off.

  Over Irene’s shoulder, he saw Luther still standing at the bow. Red-faced William was under the tarps behind him, looking this way and that. There was no sign of Olivia or Nat except for a discarded taser with its wires and tines tangled on the deck. Saul’s backpack lay unzipped under the tarp.

  Rult crouched beside the backpack, small leonine paws wrapped around the upside-down surge bowl.

  Hush remained perched and fluttered his wings, sending sparks flying at Saul. He paced toward Rult and the backpack. Sparks burned on the underside of the tarp over Saul’s head. Irene circled toward Rult, eyes on Saul, flaming sword in both hands.

  Flames fountained from Hush’s beak. Irene dropped her guard and sprinted toward Rult. She must have seen Saul notice the child and the surge bowl. Hush’s fire streamed between her and Saul, forming a burning curtain along the steely deck.

  He skidded to a stop and then stepped back. Irene’s sword flashed toward Rult. The child’s claws found purchase on the side of the surge bowl and he rolled onto his back. The bowl went up between the art-child and Irene’s blade. The strike chipped the bowl but did not break it.

  Saul scowled. “Rult use your spark.” He raced along the wall of fire toward the side of the boat where Hush perched.

  Rult did not answer him but meowed as Irene drew back her blade to strike again. Saul reached Hush, but the child flew off the railing and out of reach. In the process, he cut off his stream of fire. Saul grimaced and backed up across the deck. Hush glided upward and took aim.

  Blue lightning crackled from the surge bowl, fueled by the spark Saul had invested in Rult’s tiny taph. Jagged fury scattered and leapt between Irene and Saul and Hush. Parts of the yellow tarp turned black. Lightning danced to the deck and shot into gern who flew too close.

  Electricity jumped into Saul’s legs and sword arm. He screamed in agony as shocks ran through him. He thought wildly that somehow this had become the only option. The lightning storm expelled from the surge bowl continued to lash out. Saul’s scream echoed around him.

  Hush caught bolts of lightning and joined Saul’s cries of pain with his own high-pitched voice. Blue electricity seared red feathers. His sparking wings turned flickered with sparks.

  He veered downward and crashed onto the deck behind Irene.

  She staggered under the onslaught of the lightning. Saul’s eyes ran with pained tears, and he had been caught by less than half the blast Irene must have taken. Flickers of electricity climbed her back and she arched with pain. Her sword clattered to the deck. The fire on its blade went out.

  At last, the power of the bowl dispersed into the gold-lit air. Thunder burst the air. Saul sank to his knees, fingers twitching, pain alive in every nerve. Irene fell onto her side between her sword and Hush’s shuddering form. Her eyes remained fixed on Rult, wide with pain.

  The wall of fire burnt down to melted black line on along the deck. Saul’s eyes picked out the remains of his backpack, burnt, torn, and blackened on the deck. On the other side of the pack, Rult lay beside the chipped surge bowl. Breath moved the tiny lion-child’s frame though his eyes were closed and otherwise he was still.

  He must be the only thing on this side of the ship who didn’t get blasted. Saul bet Rult would not appreciate that piece of luck. Using even a portion of the spark given by their maker hurt most children like hell.

  Saul lurched forward from his knees. He fell to support himself with his hands on the cold deck. Irene rolled onto her back, chest rising and falling. Thank the ancients, Saul thought with a groan of pain.

  He pushed off with stiff muscles and forced himself unsteadily to his feet.

  William stared at the surge bowl. He glanced at Irene. His eyes flicked to Saul. “Lovely trick. I can’t wait to use it myself.”

  Saul gasped for air. He picked up his fallen sword, almost falling in the process. “Sorry, friend. Exiles don’t have the spark for it.”

  William answered him with a broad grin. “Oh, I’ll find a way.”

  Irene groaned and shifted on the deck between him and William. He knew Irene never gave up. She was still conscious, so it was only a matter of time before she recovered enough to attack again. His gazed moved to Hush. Luckily the bird-child appeared to be unconscious at the least. Not many creatures that size could survive multiple lightning strikes, let alone keep moving afterward.

  He lurched toward William and Luther but had to lean on the point of his sword to stay upright. Anyone who knew anything about blades knew he was dulling the point, but he had no real choice right now. Saul stepped over the burnt line left by the wall of fire.

  “Nat,” he said. “Olivia, let’s take this guy together.”