Immortal War

“I think…” Grace began. “Or, it would be more accurate to say, I feel, that the time is drawing near.”

Darcy’s eyes were riveted to Grace. “Has the book said something to you?”

Grace nodded. “Today is my birthday. Connor and I turn fifteen today, though to be honest, I feel about a century older.”

“Oh, Grace!” Darcy said. “I wish I’d known. I’d have gotten you a gift. Though I don’t know what exactly.”

Grace smiled. “Well, whatever it was, it would have been better than Sidorio’s. That horrendous painting was his idea of the perfect present.” She shuddered. “Sidorio had to go back to The Vagabond because Lola was in labor with their twins. Strange, don’t you think, that a second pair of twins should be born on the very same day as me and Connor?”

“And when the twins are born,” Darcy said, “the end of the war is near—and either you or Connor will…” She could barely get the words out. “One of you will die?”

Grace nodded. “Yes,” she said, her voice a barely discernible whisper. She drew herself together and looked straight into Darcy’s eyes. “I haven’t told Mosh Zu I’m leaving. In fact, we’re barely on speaking terms at the moment.”

“What should I say if he asks about you?” Darcy said.

Grace shrugged. “I was hoping you’d find a way to cover for me,” she said. “Buy me some time. But you can just tell him the truth if you prefer. I’m really past caring what he thinks.” She bit back fresh tears. “Darcy, I’m really scared and I need to get to The Nocturne right away.”

Darcy reached out and gripped Grace’s hand. “I can see how frightened you are,” she said. “But have you taken time to think this through? If you are potentially in danger, isn’t Sanctuary the very safest place for you? Aren’t you placing yourself in far graver danger by leaving?”

Grace’s voice emerged stronger and more determined than she felt. “I have to get to Lorcan,” she said. “You, better than anyone, must understand that.”

“Yes,” Darcy said. “Of course, I understand. I’ll do my best to cover for you here.” The two young women hugged again, then Grace stepped back and smiled. “Darcy Flotsam, what exactly are you doing with that guitar?”

“I borrowed it,” Darcy said, grinning. “For Jet. I thought it would raise his spirits to be able to make music again.”

“I see,” Grace said, still smiling through the tears, and, though it was hard, she looked straight into Darcy’s eyes. “I hope things work out between you and Jet,” she said. “I really hope he’s the one you’ve been waiting for.”

Her words awoke fresh alarm in Darcy’s face. “You’re talking as if you’re going away a lot longer than a night or two. Grace, the way you’re talking, it’s as if we’re never—”

Grace lifted her hand. “Don’t say it, Darcy. Please! Just let me go.” She turned and walked along the corridor, and, despite the temptation, she did not glance back once.

In Grace’s mind, the path down the cliff and onto the ambulance boat had grown more and more tortuous, with fresh obstacles arriving at every turn. In reality, it was straightforward enough to get where she needed to simply by lying. At the gates, she told the guards lie number one. “I’m going to fetch some supplies.” Such was their trust in her that no one objected. Instead, they smiled and opened the gates, wishing her a safe trip. Then she had the good fortune to coincide with an ambulance vehicle about to set off down the mountain and told the second lie. “Mosh Zu has sent me on an important mission. Can you take me down to the harbor?” The crew asked no further questions. They were only too happy to help. At the harbor, she found one of the ambulance boats idling and plucked a third lie from thin air: “I need to get to The Nocturne. There’s a badly wounded Nocturnal on board who I’m going to treat.”

So it was that, barely thirty minutes after Grace and Darcy had parted, Grace found herself racing across the sleet-gray ocean, on her way to The Nocturne and to Lorcan. It was strange after all this time to find herself traveling in daylight, in the open air, with crew members bustling all around her—albeit at a discreet distance. A shame, perhaps, that it wasn’t better weather so she could appreciate the now alien sensation of the sun on her face. But, in many ways, the dreary day suited her mood. Even the sting of the rain on her cheeks was no trouble to her.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to come inside for a bit?” a kindly young member of the crew asked her. “You can get dry and I’ll make you a hot drink if you want.”

Grace smiled as best she could, but shook her head. “I’m fine out here, thanks.” She turned her head away to watch the trail of churning foam the boat left in its wake. Sanctuary was lost in the mist now and they were surrounded by silvery ocean on all sides. When Grace turned back again, the young sailor had left to talk to his mate.

There was something about being back on the water that instinctively soothed Grace. She knew that Darcy had had a point when she’d said that Grace would be safer within the Sanctuary compound, but what she hadn’t wanted to say to Darcy was that the safer she was, the more danger she feared Connor might be in. At least this way she was equalizing the threat to them both.

Could the prophecy really be true? Had she and Connor come on this extraordinary journey only to perish now? She let the wind dry her face, thinking back to the voyage they had embarked upon together from Crescent Moon Bay all those months ago. It was almost a year ago now but it seemed like ten or more. So much had happened. Each of their lives had changed so profoundly.

And now this prophecy… Having witnessed so much suffering and death, there wasn’t much she wanted more than for this war to come to an end. But she wasn’t prepared to die for it. After seeing those who had, it rather shamed her to admit this, if only to herself. She was not ready to die. But nor was she ready to lose Connor. There had to be another way.

“Miss!” The young sailor was standing beside her again. She realized that she had lost all track of time, her thoughts circling around and around inside her head like a vortex.

The sailor was pointing up across to where a ship lay moored in the lee of a bay. Grace’s heart missed a beat as she found herself looking once more upon The Nocturne. Its unique winglike sails billowed in the breeze. Its mast stood tall and strong. The only strange thing about seeing the ship again was the space where Darcy should be as the figurehead. Grace thought once more of Darcy and everything their friendship had come to mean to her.

Staring up at the hulk of the galleon as the ambulance vessel drew alongside, Grace felt as if the ship itself held the key to the mysterious prophecy. She felt calmer simply knowing that Lorcan was here. She would see him again in a matter of minutes, hold him again, and talk to him about these terrible fears. And he would know what to do. Because he always did. Lorcan, dear sweet Lorcan, had never once let her down.

28

RETURN TO THE NOCTURNE

As Grace climbed the ladder onto The Nocturne, she heard cries and thuds above her. A blur of feet greeted her as her eyes drew level with the deck. She took another step and saw that the deck of The Nocturne was alive with movement from prow to stern. Men and women were squaring up to one another with swords and a host of other weapons. Grace lingered at the edge of the ship, taking