This is the final chapter I’ll be releasing for free on my website and serialized podcast. Thank you for joining me on this journey! It has been a joy to share this book piece by piece over the last 9 months.

If you have been intrigued by the story and want to read the last 28 chapters, the whole book is available in ebook, audiobook, paperback, and hardcover options on Amazon, my website, and various other retailers.

In the previous chapter, the villain, Lord Salidar, successfully carried out a surprise raid on the royal palace, kidnapping Queen Adara and whisking her away on an airship crewed by hired sky pirates.

This happened despite Durrin Rendhart arriving at the palace earlier that day to warn the garrison. The commander in charge, Volthorn, had been suspicious of Durrin’s motives and had dismissed the warning as a false trail.

Durrin woke with a start. He jerked upright on his cot. Where was he? Why was everything dark?

Memories flooded back. After his disastrous meeting with Volthorn, soldiers had escorted him to a military barrack to remain under guard until he could be escorted from the province.

He hadn’t intended to comply, of course. His “cell” was only a room with a wooden ceiling. He had planned to burn his way out as soon as night fell, then backtrack to the castle to interrupt Salidar’s assault.

What had happened? He remembered lying down exhausted on his cot in the mid-afternoon, intending to take a short nap. Why hadn’t he awoken?

Durrin rolled off the cot. Igniting a flame in his hand for light, he peered under the bed. There it was: a small basin of liquid, hidden out of sight in the far corner—an aquamancy sleep aroma, most likely. Its fumes had subtly filled the room that afternoon, luring him into a deep sleep.

“Curse you, Volthorn,” Durrin muttered. He rose and went to the tiny window, listening. In the darkness, far away, he heard the panicked clanging of a bell.

“Captain!” he cried, rushing to the door and pounding on it. “Captain! You need to let me out!”

After a moment, an annoyed voice answered. “Captain’s asleep. This is Sergeant Barnum.”

“Sergeant, you must let me go! Someone’s attacking the palace!”

“What in Terramor’s tempests are you talking about?”

He didn’t have time for this. Talking his way out would take forever. Durrin stepped back into a one-legged crouch and spun, the other leg and his two arms kept straight out horizontally. Heat and energy sucked toward him from each corner of the room. Then he corkscrewed upright, channeling the vortex into the ceiling. Fire erupted from his outstretched hands, blasting into the dry wood.

“What’s going on in there?!” the sergeant shouted.

Durrin pulled back his hands. There was now a sizeable hole in the ceiling, the beams around it charred and smoking.

“Should have woken the captain,” Durrin said, then gathered energy into his legs and sprung up into the gap.

The night was dark, with a chill wind. Most of the streetlamps had long dried out. He ran across the rooftops, leaping over ten-foot gaps without a second thought. The palace lights twinkled ahead of him, half a mile away. Half a mile! Why did that rock-headed korrik put him so far away? He increased his speed.

The clanging of the bell grew louder. Something was afire on the right side of the palace—the side with the royal wing.

His lungs were burning. How long ago had the attack begun? Three minutes? Five? The raid would be startlingly quick if executed properly, especially if Grimbo’s liquidation grenade worked like he said it would.

He redoubled his pace, energy surging around him as the flame in his heart soared. He came to a wide street but cleared it easily, landing with a tumble on the rooftop beyond and rolling back into a run.

Shouting and the clash of weapons sounded up ahead as the palace acropolis rose in front of him. He powered into the ascent, springing from rock to rock, flaring the flames in his hands to better see footholds. The slope increased until it became a cliff, and Durrin scrambled up the face, carried by the wave of momentum.

He reached the top of the cliff and clung to the stonework of the palace wall, his lungs heaving for breath. His hands and arms stung from half a dozen scrapes and lacerations.

As he craned his head upward to find a route of ascent, movement caught his eye. A vast shadow floated in the skies above him, drifting away from the palace as it climbed in altitude. Somewhere above him, a voice bellowed the queen’s name.

Durrin collapsed, sinking down with his back to the wall, his legs dangling over the drop. He hung his head between his arms, gasping for air with every ragged breath.

He was too late.

* * * * *

Adara woke slowly from one nightmare into another.

First she became aware of her mouth. It was gagged, with a taut, nasty-tasting cloth digging into the sides of her cheeks. Then she registered the thongs digging into her wrists and ankles.

The cold hit her next. She was shivering uncontrollably, with goose bumps all over her arms and legs. Chill autumn air swept over her, stripping away any shreds of warmth. It was the cold that convinced her she was no longer dreaming.

Adara finally cracked open her eyes, but she saw nothing but darkness. Had she gone blind? Slowly, the darkness gave way to vague shapes. Before her stretched the gondola. Dark figures crouched huddled along its deck.

A thick silence hung everywhere. Adara could almost feel it weighing on her. As hard as she strained her ears, she couldn’t hear anything: no wind, no creak of air against canvas, no breathing—only the dull thud of her own heart.

Coldness. Darkness. Silence. A tingle started at the hairs of her neck, rippling up her spine and down her limbs. Coldness. Darkness. Silence. Was this what it was like in the Void?

As panic threatened to take hold, engrained habits kicked in.

Breathe. Release.

Adara focused on her breaths, though they came stifled through her nose.

Light.Breathe. Darkness.Release.

Memories from the attack ripped through her. She saw, again, the avir falling with an arrow in his shoulder, the Hakiru shoving her toward a basket.

Hope. Breathe. Fear. Release.

Awful reality sunk upon her. She’d been kidnapped, spirited out of her own palace. Now she lay at the mercy of a barbarous race from the far north, a people that gave no thought to taking lives at night. Would they torture her? Kill her?

Death at night. . . . The fear of it threatened to consume her, crowding out her attempts to calm herself. Visions of demons and endless agony coursed through her.

Breathe. Breathe again. What was the opposite of death?

She shivered in the dark, gripped by terror.

“Well, well,” a voice murmured, the sound muffled and sluggish. “Look who’s awake.”

She struggled to turn her head. In the darkness, she could make out no more than the outline of a tall human standing above her. Unlike the rest of the pirates she had heard, he spoke Lurrian fluently, with the accent of a high-bred aristocrat from Calamar.

“I hope your night has been pleasant.” Condescension dripped from his voice. “And I hope your finances are in order. Your kingdom will have to pay a pretty sum to get you back.” He stooped at Adara’s level, his voice falling to little more than a hiss. “That is, assuming no accident befalls you in the meantime.”

The hairs tingled on the back of Adara’s neck again. What did he mean by accident?

The shadow of a snippen approached. The Calamarvan straightened and turned. “Yes?”

“Keep silence, Your Excellency,” the snippen said. Her voice also seemed to come slowly through the air. “Griffins may be near.”

The Calamarvan waved his hand. “You doubt the efficacy of my verbomancy needlessly. No one can hear this ship.”

“We fear the wind,” the snippen said. “It carries sound far, even when muffled by magic.” As she spoke, a gust rocked the cloudship. Adara toppled onto her side, unable to catch herself with her hands tied. Something cold hit her cheek. A snowflake?

The buckling deck had no effect on the snippen, but the Calamarvan stumbled, his hand s…

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit jeremypmadsen.substack.com