The Adamant’s superstructure stood in front of them like an impenetrable fortress. Smoke drifted lazily from vents and ruptured seams. Ivy could feel the warmth coming from its openings. The massive maze of steel was certainly full of enemies, and each corner was a perfect trap. Each room to cross; an ideal ambush.

  Of all the enemies left behind with a little breath of life, none stood, none remained quiet. Groans and cries of pain faded with the wind and the waves. Yet, from the guts of the ship, came the squeak of steel and humming of engines: nothing more. The ship was still alive, so were the remaining forces. Quiet, ready amongst the shadows of narrow passageways and steep ladderwells. Not dead, just cornered and injured. And those are always the worst to fear.

  Ivy felt the stickiness of blood and oil under her boots. She stepped once, twice. Then stopped as all the rest when Riko raised a hand.

  Timo whispered orders, and half of their men rushed to the lower decks through hatches and scuttles. They slid in, one after another, into the ship’s dark entrails like a flood claiming a bug's hive.

  The remaining men gathered in two groups; one would take on the left gallery and the other the right. Then, enter the athwartship passageway at once.

  “Theirs is to stab the beast's heart, gents,” Timo said. “Ours is to behead it. No mistakes.”

  Ivy's heart wished Vega himself would be in command. But her mind didn't fall for it. He was in Tampra, hidden in his luxurious and safe quarters while his minions did the killing and the dying.

  Riko whispered as the men piled around them. “Doesn’t matter if he’s not here. We take his ship, it’s all over. Without his Herjard army, neither his flagship, he's done.”

  The way Riko read her mind gave Ivy a chill. Memories of Lim, who used to do the same, returned. The past overwhelmed her more than any battle coming. She closed her eyes and blew slowly to clear her thoughts. That was not a moment to be lost on such things. It was time to focus.

  “Remember, this is not personal,” Riko insisted, even after she made a sign of agreement. “Every step at its own time…”

  Ivy signed again. “I know.”

  Riko grinned. “Aye. Just telling myself.”

  They moved quickly, both parties at the same time. Riko motioned left: Ivy, AhLong followed. And behind them, a group of mercenaries, pirates and tampra soldiers. A strange blurb of former enemies, now all bringing forward blades and pistols to fight for the same cause.

  Timo led the right. Macha and the Jo girl, Uri, followed him.

  Ivy gave her friend one last glimpse, although he didn’t return it. He was too focused, or maybe too dazed. Not knowing made her feel worried.

  'He'll be all right,’ she told herself. 'He's in good hands’

  The weather door was wide open. Ivy raised a fist and crouched, listening. No sound came from within. No breath. No boots.

  “Bram. Hesk,” Riko whispered. “Clear.”

  Two men moved past her without a word. They were not pirates. Nor Tampra regulars: Old kraken folk. Short coats, dark scarves around their necks, many pistols resting in their belts. One had a scar splitting his eyebrow in two; the other’s eyes never stopped moving. Ivy recognized the type at once. Riko’s cutters. Men used to go first and not come back.

  They slipped inside. Bram went first, knees bent, pistol high. Hesk followed half a step behind, covering the opposite angles, his head moving in small, precise motions. They didn’t rush. They didn’t whisper. Every step placed with intent, boots landing soft on steel, muzzles tracking corners before others followed.

  Ivy moved in after them, Riko at her side, the rest flooding the corridor in a controlled spill of bodies.

  The passageway was long and straight, a spine cutting through the superstructure, connecting the two flanks of the ship. Doors lined the left wall, close and narrow, each one a promise of death. Grated vents hummed above, blowing warm air that smelled of oil and sweat.

  Bram checked the first door. Two fingers up.

  The next. A pause. A lean. Next one.

  On the far end, through the glare spilling from the opposite hatch, Ivy caught the movement. of silhouettes. Macha’s side. They advanced the same way, cautious and methodical, mirroring them through the steel ribs of the ship.

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  A soft whistle cut the air. Hesk beckoned them toward a narrow side path branching off the corridor. Ivy’s eyes followed the angle. The passage tightened quickly, ending at a short stairwell leading up, its steps steep and boxed in by steel walls.

  Bram leaned in, checked upward without committing. He froze, nostrils flaring. Then he turned.

  “Chief,” he whispered. “This is it.”

  Hesk nodded once. “As sure as my mother was no whore. I can smell them.”

  Men piled in behind, shoulder to shoulder now, blades out, pistols hammered. Breathing grew louder. No one spoke. They all knew what waited above. The first step would be paid in blood.

  Then AhLong appeared.

  He shoved through the press of bodies like a stubborn little bull, elbowing past Ivy, ignoring the glares. His dagger was already in his hand, knuckles white around the grip.

  “What are you doing, old man?” Riko hissed.

  “I go first,” Long said. “Trap set up there. Best place. Yer guys smart. They saw.”

  A hint of pride showed in the two cutters as they moved sideways to let Long pass. The old sea dog stepped twice, then Riko pulled him to a halt.

  Riko held his frustration with a whisper. “Don’t be stupid. These two are Sunna. They have bowed to the end. Their fate allows.”

  “Long wants find end. I bow too. I tired, Ricky. too tired.” Long voice turned calm and his eyes, for a moment, kind. “I go, you good chance. Then you win this, I go meet daddy. I miss daddy...”

  Long continued as his gaze drifted to Ivy. “Don’ be sad, little mouse, this is what old uncle want. Very, very much “

  She was not sad; she was shocked. Unable to process the moment. Her sign came slow and clumsy.

  “No, no. How about Joy? He needs you.”

  “Joy never need me. He strong. He know I wont back. It’s all fine.”

  Riko echoed her, lower now, pleading. “Come on, mate. Let my men do what they do best. They—.”

  AhLong let out a long, loud hiss while his eyes lost any trace of kindness. His dagger rose between them, the steel trembling. “Ricky… enough. AhFueng says I must go kill enemies now. AhLong does. The monster needs blood; I need a rest. Let us go get it upstairs, or ye try to stop old Long and we get it here… I don’t lie.”

  Silence fell.

  Long grinned.He took the first steps. Loud, too loud. As the metal clacked under him, he yelled. “Hey, ye! I comin’.”

  Bram and Hesk tensed, ready to rush up. The rest behind prepared too. To Ivy’s surprise, Long reached the top and nothing happened. “I have deal!” he said. “I kill ye all fast. Ye kill me fast too. Aye? Good deal!”

  “Lets count to three... Is fun!” Long forced a laugh. Then gave the men below a wink. “One...”

  As the King of the Blue darted forward, all hell broke loose. Bullets rained, and the air blurred with smoke. The two cutters rushed up, shooting and tossing the pistols to grab a new loaded one from their belts. Bram felt as soon as he reached the top. His partner; right after.

  A tide of men flooded the stairs. Ivy pushed up, yet Riko, who put himself up front, slowed her down. She smacked his back, frustrated by what he was doing. More men fell, and the rest stepped on the bodies to continue deeper in a blind rush.

  Before they reached the upper floor, Riko slammed into her, tackling her sideways. They tumbled back down the steps together. The painful fall, only stopped by the coming men cushioning them.

  As legs struggled to pass them over, the air filled with the smell of powder. More shots. More steps on metal. More clashes of blades. AhLong thundered from above, feral and unrestrained. To his roar answered screams of panic, and groans of pain.

  Ivy writhed to break free. Riko moved aside and groaned, clutching his shoulder. Blood spilled through his fingers. His shirt, soaked in red everywhere.

  “I’m fine,” he gritted. “Go!”

  She did. As fast as she was used, but not so nimble. Bodies made her crumble; bloody floor, slip. She made her way into a full room. In other circumstances, she could believe it was a commanding room, yet now, it was just a slaughterhouse. Ivy hauled herself into a mass of struggling bodies. A tight space. Too small for such numbers. In there, skill didn't matter. Only raw will and strength.

  Blades flashed. Pistols fired at arm’s length. Fists flew.

  Breathing became impossible.

  Out of nowhere, a hand reached for her shirt and pulled. A dagger darted toward her eye. She grabbed the steel, the edge biting palm and fingers. The cut stopped as her fist hit the guard, then she squeezed harder to stop me sliding. But blood is slippery, and the dagger moved back, deepening its bite. Her hand burned.

  The man grabbing her neck returned with a face. A battered one with a small lizard tattooed on his temple. They both moved along the tide of bodies, unable to use anything but their arms. Ivy raised her sword, but something stuck in it. Before he could stab her again, she released her weapon and poked him in the eye. Her finger deepened, and he screamed. Then, she loaded her fist, held a huge breath and stroked his neck without restraint.

  He tried to cough, but gurgled. Eyes turned white for a moment, but not for long enough. The dagger returned, as did his focus on her. This time, she reached for his forearm to stop the killing, but blood is slippery.

  The dagger came in. Then a blunt flew behind them, and the gecko went numb.

  Behind, Macha spun his revolver

  to grab it back by the handle. “Hey… Did you miss me?”