Dawn painted streaks of bleeding reds above Male. In the Southern seaport, the scents of brine and damp wood clung to the makeshift barricades, where men waited for the impending assault. Ivy, like all the rest, crouched behind a wall of sacks and crates, eerily still. No shouts, no clatter of steel, only the distant clashes of fights around the northern side of the city.

  Adan slid next to her. "Northside’s crawling with Uwe’s rats," he muttered, jerking his chin toward the furthest side. "Teams already moving from the eastside ."

  Ivy's face wrinkled as if she'd bitten something bitter. Adan turned to the sea where the morning fog had grown thicker. A gust hissed, carrying a sinister feeling. Neither he nor Ivy could tell what. But as everyone else around, the assuredness of upcoming danger didn't need proof.

  Tension pressed against the men’s shoulders as they shifted uneasily behind the barricades. Knuckles whitened around weapons, breaths held inside the lungs.

  Ivy’s fingers lingered mid-sign as did her mind at mid-thought. The correct, expected, and desired action was to send more reinforcements to the north port, where Uwe had been pressing for days. The Harpy, who had been letting others do the dirty work for her, didn't attack a single time yet, but still, the prospect of doing it at any time, managed to keep a large number of men unable to help the others.

  "Yeah, I think so," Adan whispered as he read her mind. "It's too calm. Not even that sneaky-coward bitch will let such a good chance flee with this fog."

  Suddenly, the fortress cannons roared to life without warning. Flashes of fire tearing through the gloom from the round walls above. Adan cursed under his breath, eyes darting between the muzzle flares and the black water beyond the barricade. Uwe had never dared sail his ships close enough to draw the fortress’s wrath, but Harpy wasn’t Uwe. And the shots were aimed at their side. At the side attacked by the Harpy.

  To the side, where the skeletal remains of a once-proud warehouse clung to the piers, muzzle flashes erupted through shattered windows. Adan whipped his head around, scanning the waters below the building. Then, he turned to the front as the fog lightened in flashes.

  Thunder came right before the barricades exploded around them. Showers of splintered timber and raining grain fell upon them as they braced. The fortress answered, now shooting from both of his sides. The exchange was brief but brutal, leaving gaping wounds in their defences before silence could even settle again. But even short, calm didn't return. As soon as heavy fire ended, shots emerged from shadows forming in the mist. Rowing boats formed under flashes of gunfire.

  The defenders answered without needing to receive the orders. Eager to let them know any arrival was not welcome. No step into their city is allowed. But it also lasted little. Right in front, where peers lingered over the water, shadows emerged. Shouts erupted.

  Ivy's men fire on instinct, and everywhere, but they were already too late. Yelling men surged from beneath the piers where darkness and depth had concealed them. They rushed in in a desperate charge. Water dripping, blades drawn. Chaos unfurled like a bloodied banner.

  Most fell to gunfire before closing the distance, but a handful broke through. Two sabres flashed toward Adan mid-reload. Ivy moved like wind cutting through reeds, her own blade clashing in a shriek of metal. The attacker crumpled before he understood what had happened; before a slash cut him underneath. Upon seeing the gust of blood, his companion faltered, scrambling back for a moment of weakness: enough to catch Adan’s bullet between his ribs. The first wave had failed as fast as it had arrived. Or that is what Ivy thought.

  Shots erupted from the warehouse, but not toward the water but directly at their exposed flank. The crates and sacks shielding them moments before offered no protection now. They threw themselves behind an overturned cart, a flimsy cover not better than all other pity gaps where their men tried to hide. More shots came from the boats as well, a crossfire catching them exposed.

  "They’ve taken the warehouse!" Adan roared. "we need to retreat!"

  Ivy’s hands moved before his advice had ended.

  "We need to retreat to the second barricades. Now!"

  Adan didn’t hesitate and gave the order. The men shouted in agreement, and like a frayed rope finally snapping, their formation broke apart. Men abandoned shattered cover to sprint back across the seafront square, boots pounding against rain-slicked cobbles as they raced for the secondary defences erected along every street leading to the city centre.

  Gunfire came from both sides; behind them broken barricades; ahead, muzzle flashes winking from shattered windows. The scattered sharpshooters tucked among the first row of houses were barely able to slow the enemy tide.

  Ivy leapt over a box as the whistle of a round passed too loud. Too close. As they settled, the defenders shifted into firing positions, but Ivy. She stayed rooted, back on the boxes, gazing at the street beyond. There was no fear in her, neither exhaustion. Something deeper, something coiled tight in her chest she couldn't quite understand.

  A family appeared from a house farther down the street, clutching children and meagre belongings as they fled into the guts of the city.

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  "Fools!" Adan said beside her. "Why didn’t they leave when they had the chance?"

  Ivy’s hands clenched in silent agreement, her nails biting crescents into her palms. They had warned: ordered them. Marie had handled the evacuation of civilians for days, yet here they were: deep into a deadly trap out of stubbornness.

  Behind them came shouts from the barricades. Triumphant yells, mocking cries. Shadows could be seen, moving between the gaps of sacks and boxes. Then, silence and stilt.

  The distant northern battle murmured beneath the thunderous artillery duel between navies and fortress. Deafening and terrifying. Yet, the calm in their own front turned out way more unsettling than the chaos in the others.

  Right above a window opened slightly. "Fortress shooting north!" a voice said. "But no more south!"

  Ivy’s gut twisted with the unease. The Harpy’s boats had been a clear threat moments ago. Why stop shooting at them? There was no way to get anything new from the fortress from where she hid, and groping around was far worse than the danger surrounding it.

  "I need reports!" Adan shouted to no one in particular. No answer came.

  The muscles in Adan's jaw worked like a knotted rope. "Something’s cooking," he muttered under his breath before turning to the nearest men crouched beside splintered barrels. "You! move quick and check if Harpy’s going east of that building."

  Battles were fought with courage, skill and strength. They had all. But to win them, you had to master its strategies. And she was failing. Every instinct, every thought, screamed to her she was missing the finishing strike entirely.

  A figure stumbled toward them, his breath ragged as he kept low behind the barricade. "The harpy's boats are turning back."

  A murmur rippled through the men before one voice cut through like a blade. "It's a ruse!"

  A grizzled fighter spat on the cobbles. Another tightened his grip over his musket stock. Hums and grunts of agreement from everyone followed. Adan turned to Ivy then, pressing close enough for their shoulders to brush. "What do you think?"

  Ivy remained still as stone, her gaze locked on the retreating family. Before she could sign, another runner skidded into their midst with blood streaking down one arm and desperation lacing every word.

  "Uwe’s men broke through Lavender Street! We need reinforcements now or they'll take control of the Fortress entrance.”

  Ivy’s hands cut through the smoke-choked air, her signs clear but hesitant. "The fortress can hold even if Uwe takes the west side. But if we divide and the Harpy push here, they will access the east side. Without Marie and the shallows, we are all done."

  Adan exhaled through his nose but waited. Committed to listen and follow no matter what.

  "We must retake our shore." She signed. "fast. Then when it's clear of Harpy, send help against Uwe."

  "Then let’s not waste another damn second! Ong!" Adan said. A wiry man with salt-crusted braids snapped to attention nearby. "Gather all the window sharpers and retake that gods-forsaken warehouse! Silva, Andres; Run the orders. We charge back at my command."

  Boots scuffed against wet stone as men braced themselves; metal hissed from scabbards, and musket hammers clicked back in grim unison. Somewhere beyond the fog-shrouded piers, death awaited, but no man feared it.

  The defenders surged forward.

  Musket shots cracked toward them; sporadic, uncoordinated, like the last sputtering embers of a dying fire. The sharp pops whistled through the air before fading into silence, as if the Harpy had lost its will. Yells, raw and ragged, erupted. Men poured over the barricades to surge forward to meet them in the open.

  The enemy line buckled instantly as the pistols received them. Some scrambled backwards in blinded panic. Others stood their ground in desperate defiance. They swung wild slashes at shadows already dancing past them. Ivy faced two. One took a cut through the gut before his sabre could complete its arc. Ivy's sword flew with grace, turning side and down, engaging two more blades. One of the weapons fell, and its owner stepped back in surrender.

  Ivy moved forward slowly but decisive. Each movement of the adversaries around checked. Each blade,

  : under control. A step aside and a parry from below stepped a thrust aimed at Adan’s back. Then, an upward slash across another man’s thigh.

  The opposing force faltered. One by one, each enemy fell or fled. Sooner than expected she found herself free of challengers. Her lips curled at the sight of her men picking off the fleeing enemies, weapons barking towards the struggling swimmers.

  Ahead, muffled shouts and shots reverberated from the skeletal warehouse until Ong himself popped from a window, hand waving to report success.

  "That's what I call a bold move, girl!" Adan's hand reached for Ivy's shoulder.

  "We were just lucky," she signed.

  "Whether it's luck or a good hunch, it doesn't matter. Everything counts in battle." Adan's chest heaved as sweat dripped from his brow. "Three cries for the Fortune’s maid!"

  Rangers of the Blue, pirates of the Oozing and men of the Indri… all around yelled with a passion she had never seen before. Ivy grimaced. "Fortune’s Maid?"

  Adan's grin widened and his shoulders raised. "I don't know, first thing that came to mind. I hope you didn't—"

  A runner skidded to a halt beside the first mate. “I-I have a report! From…” he gasped, bracing hands on his knees before straightening with effort. “Bell tower sighted a fleet southeast horizon. No colours are flying yet, but Harpy's fleet is lining up for engagement.”

  “They pulled back after all! Aren't we blessed?” Adan's voice roughened with something perilously close to hope. “It must be finally Riko! There's hope after all!”

  Ivy’s hands moved swiftly and surely but not her thoughts. "Let's reinforce the defences and move troops to the North side. Is way too early to call for victories."

  Riko may have arrived. But Uwe was still pressing from the north, and way worse, Vega had not shown up, and that was the hardest thought to digest.