The Rose Society (The Young Elites #2)(87)

He turns the creature sharply in the direction of Raffaele’s balira. Now I can see others in the air, dozens of them, some ridden by the Daggers, others by my own mercenaries. I focus my energy on the Daggers and the Beldish queen: my next targets.

Behind us, baliras carrying Inquisitors stop to hover at the balcony, and Teren and his men board. Magiano whistles at ours, and it surges forward. Rain whips against my skin.

“We have to keep up with your Star Thief,” he shouts. “I can’t mimic her if I can no longer see her.”

I squint against the rain and look over my shoulder. Teren and his Inquisitors are on our tail.

Black clouds have now completely covered the sky, blocking any sign of the sun from view, and the rain comes down in torrents. Lightning forks ahead. Sergio’s storm is building quickly now, likely out of his control. The baliras fly low, as unnerved by the charge in the air as we are. I can feel a steady pulse of unease from the balira beneath us, and the sheer intensity of its fear makes me light-headed.

Beside us, Violetta shouts at me. I turn instinctively in her direction, as if I’ve always known where she is. She points to a balira some distance before us. “Star Thief,” she calls out over the storm.

My attention darts to where she gestures. Now I can see a rider on the balira’s back, her hair whipping behind her in a long sheet. It’s Gemma. For an instant, I think back to the day I’d seen her race a horse, her head thrown back in sheer joy, hair streaming out, and I realize that even if I cannot see her face, I can recognize her by the life in her movements. She urges on her balira. Arrows sing toward her from Inquisitors flying nearby, but her creature turns in a spin, narrowly avoiding the weapons.

Magiano whips our reins, guiding our own balira. It speeds up.

We soar over Estenzia’s piers, and suddenly we’re out over the bay. The entire siege comes into view below us. A line of Beldish warships blockade the entrance of the bay, while others are engaged in battle against Kenettran ships—cannon fire looks like orange and white balls of light against the dark ocean. I can barely tell the sounds of their explosions from the roar of thunder overhead. Above them, baliras armored with silver plates glide through the air, their white-cloaked riders gleaming against the dark sky.

The tether hums, tugging at my chest. We are drawing very near to Enzo now. I can feel him turning his attention in my direction, too, sensing me in the same way that I sense him.

Even in the melee, I can see the Beldish queen riding on one of the baliras, her high braid in plain sight, her face protected behind a metal guard. She fires arrows one after another, taking down every Inquisitor rider in her path. Another rides with her—one of her brothers—no, Lucent. As I look on from a distance, Maeve leaps to her feet as an Inquisitor suddenly drops onto their balira, trying to throw them off course. Her sword flashes through the air. A spray of blood follows it, and the Inquisitor plummets from the balira’s back.

Then they veer away sharply, until they’re lost in the midst of riders.

“Adelina!” Magiano’s shout jolts me back. Gemma’s balira flies straight into our line of sight. We pull closer behind her. She glances over her shoulder at us—we are near enough that I can make out the familiar purple marking stretched across her face. Our eyes lock.

She recognizes me. And suddenly my power wavers.

Why am I hunting her down? She has always been kind to me, and perhaps she would be kind to me even now. A strange, wild hope grows in my chest—out of everyone, Gemma would accept me despite what I’ve done.

Gemma turns back around in her seat. For an instant, I think she’s going to slow her balira so that we can fly along side each other, so that she can talk to us. I open my mouth and start to tell Magiano to pull aside and give her room.

Then she turns back to face us—and a crossbow is in her hand. She lifts it and fires.

I’m too shocked to dodge.

“Move!” Magiano snaps at me. He shoves me hard, and the arrow sings past my neck. I fall flat against our balira’s back. My ears ring.

Gemma fires a second arrow, this time toward Magiano, but Magiano ducks low and pulls our balira sharply left. The arrow shoots past us and disappears into the darkness.

Magiano grits his teeth and urges our balira to speed up. “We need to work on your reflexes, my love!” he shouts.

My fear changes to bewilderment, then betrayal, then anger. White-hot, searing anger, burning the whispers in my head and forcing them out of their cages. They flitter around my mind like a cloud of furious bats until I can barely see. You would have gladly seen me dead, Gemma. A part of me tries to urge that, no, perhaps Gemma had only fired a warning shot, had purposely missed us—but the whispers in my mind shove this thought away. My teeth clench, and my fists tighten so hard against the reins that the rough ropes cut my palms.

How could you? I spared your life in that alleyway. Don’t you know?

I should have killed you.

I can hardly breathe. I don’t even care if what I’m thinking is fair. I should have killed her right there, it would have been so much easier. It would have sped up our goals. Why didn’t I? My power churns with my fury, and I push myself back upright on the balira’s back. I lean toward Magiano.

“Chase her up,” I shout. Perhaps it is a whisper in my voice that shouts, because in this instant, I no longer have a voice of my own.

Magiano pushes against the balira’s back. The creature lets out a haunting cry that shudders through our bodies. Then it dives. It dives so sharply that I have to steady myself against the saddle so that I don’t slide off completely. Almost immediately, Magiano pulls it back up, and the balira jerks its head up toward where Gemma flies.