The Falcon's Claw limped through the mist, its aether-crystals flickering like dying stars. Zahra al-Nur stood at the helm, her hands steady despite the ache in her arm where Khalid's man had nicked her. The coral reef was behind them, its jagged teeth a fading shadow, but the Fire Isle ships still dogged their trail, their crimson-flame sails glowing faintly in the haze. Now, a new threat loomed—a Water Isle skyship, its blue sails carved with coral crests, blocking their path like a shark circling a wounded fish.
"Talk or sink, smuggler!" The voice boomed again from the Water Isle ship, sharp as a snapped rope. Zahra's jaw tightened. She'd outrun one hunter only to stumble into another. The crystal in her satchel hummed, its song a restless murmur in her bones, stirring something she couldn't name.
Yasmin leaned close, her voice low. "They're not firing. They want the crystal, not our corpses."
"Yet," Zahra muttered, her eyes scanning the enemy deck. Figures moved, their armor glinting like fish scales, but no jinn flared. Not yet. "Malik, keep those crystals burning. Yasmin, cannons ready, but hold fire."
Malik nodded, his hands shaking less than before, though his face was still pale. Yasmin scowled but moved to the cannons, her braids swinging. Jafar, the old sailor, stood by the railing, his salt-crusted beard catching the mist. His eyes, sharp as a hawk's, fixed on Zahra's satchel.
"That shard's waking," he said, his voice rough as coral. "You felt it on the reef, didn't you? The wind?"
Zahra's fingers twitched, remembering the gust that had scattered Khalid's men. It hadn't been natural—not entirely. "A fluke," she said, but her voice lacked conviction. The crystal's hum grew louder, like a lute plucked in a quiet souk, and her skin prickled.
"No fluke," Jafar said, stepping closer. "The Heart of the Sands chooses its keepers. Your blood's got jinn in it, girl, whether you like it or not."
"Jinn-blood?" Zahra snorted, her grin sharp. "I'm a smuggler, not a myth. My parents were sailors, not sorcerers."Jafar's scar creased as he frowned. "You think blood tells its secrets upfront? That shard's song knows you better than you know yourself."
Before she could argue, the Water Isle ship fired—a warning shot, the cannonball splashing short of the Claw's bow. The voice roared again: "Last chance! Hand over the shard, or we drag you from the wreck!"
Zahra's heart thumped, but she kept her grin. "They talk big for folks who missed." She glanced at Yasmin. "Fire a shot—aim wide. Buy us time."
Yasmin nodded, lighting the cannon's fuse. The boom shook the deck, the shot arcing harmlessly into the sea. The Water Isle ship held position, but Zahra could feel their patience thinning, like a rope fraying under strain.
"Jafar," she said, her voice low. "If you know something about this crystal, spit it out. What's it doing to me?"
He hesitated, then leaned in, his breath smelling of salt and old tobacco. "The Heart's fragments hold jinn-power—wind, fire, water, stone. That one's wind, and it's bound to you now. But jinn don't give gifts for free. Use it, and it'll ask a price."
"A price?" Zahra's stomach churned. The crystal's hum flared, and a breeze swirled around her, unbidden, tugging her scarf. Her eyes widened. "What kind of price?"
"Blood, soul, or worse," Jafar said. "You'll see."
The Water Isle ship advanced, its sails snapping as it closed the gap. Zahra's mind raced. The Claw was too battered to outrun them, and the Fire Isle ships were still out there, waiting like jackals. She needed a move, and fast.
"Malik, full speed!" she shouted. "Head for the mist bank!"
Malik fumbled with the crystals, the Claw lurching forward. Yasmin grabbed her arm. "You're gonna crash us again!"
"Better us than them," Zahra said, her grin all teeth. She reached into her satchel, fingers brushing the crystal. Its song surged, a wild, wordless call, and the air around her thickened, heavy with unseen force. She didn't understand it, but she'd use it.
"Hold on!" she barked, gripping the helm. She closed her eyes, letting the crystal's hum guide her, a reckless instinct born of too many close calls. The wind roared, not from the storm but from her, a gale erupting from the Claw's deck. It slammed into the Water Isle ship, shredding its sails like parchment, sending it veering off course.
Malik gaped. "How'd you—""Don't ask!" Zahra snapped, her heart pounding. The crystal burned cool against her palm, its song now a shout in her head. The Claw surged into the mist, the Water Isle ship fading behind, but the Fire Isle ships turned, their jinn's flames cutting through the haze.
Jafar grabbed her shoulder, his grip like iron. "You've woken it, girl. The shard's bound to you now, but every jinn's a deal. You'll pay for that wind."
"Pay later," Zahra said, her voice steady despite the fear clawing her chest. "Right now, we run."
The Claw broke through the mist, the open sea sprawling before them. But the Fire Isle ships were closer, their jinn's fire flaring brighter. Zahra's hand tightened on the crystal, its song a lure she couldn't resist. She'd bought them time, but at what cost?
Then, from the horizon, a new fleet appeared—dozens of blue-sailed ships, their coral crests gleaming under the breaking clouds. The Water Isle's full armada, and at its head, a figure in silver armor, his voice carrying like a storm's roar: "Zahra al-Nur, you hold the Heart's shard. Surrender, or the seas claim you all!"
Zahra's grin faltered. The crystal's song was hers now, but so was the hunt.