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I hadn’t realized Liam was still in the room until a knuckle pressed against my chin and lifted my face. I opened my eyes, though the darkness blinked with every heartbeat.
Liam’s worried expression slipped into my vision. His dark hair was in disarray, and his pale grey eyes widened in panic. Pale as the grave. His mouth moved, but no sound came out.
I squinted, studying the movement of his lips, making the same motion over and over.
He was shouting my name, but I couldn’t hear a single sound.
My body and my mind were not entirely aligned yet. The magic of the throne was too raw as I struggled to slip back into my skin. Becoming the water and using the throne were very different magics. One felt natural, and the other felt like touching the sun and hoping it wouldn’t burn every inch of my body to dust.
I closed my eyes as the ringing in my ears grew louder.
I had no hope of finding whatever part of the High Throne belonged to the Kraken.
I was back where I started. The scars on my wrists and the sickening swell of madness on my tongue.
I laughed, though the sound didn’t reach my ears. Liam sat back, startled. I coughed, and a cloud of red blood dispersed in the water in front of my lips.
It didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered.
I had traveled the lake and to the dark sea, but I remained tied to a throne I had vowed to never sit on again. Enduring magic without reaping the rewards of a crown.
I had been played for a fool.
My head reared back, slamming into the stone headrest of the throne. A jolt of pain stole the vision in one of my eyes. Liam reached forward, gripping my shoulders and shaking me.
It seemed so utterly right at that moment. Either crack my skull on the throne or crack the throne with my skull. One of us would be made useless when I was through, and at that moment, I didn’t care which.
I reared back, swinging my body as I knocked my head against the throne. Harder this time. Liam clawed at me, but a feral snarl ripped from my lips, and I kicked out, knocking him away. I squirmed, my body arched off the throne as I lifted myself, and with one final battle cry, I fell back into the stone.
I felt it crack as surely as I felt the water.
The stone splintered, and the top of the throne fell off, sending shards of stone to the floor. I laughed, high-pitched and manic, as the sound returned to my ears.
A wave of magic rang out on the water like a shock wave.
I sank back down on the remains of the throne, my mind undulating like the waves around me.
I was dying.
I knew it.
The world went black, and I wasn’t sure how long I floated in the darkness before two voices woke me.
“What have you done?” Elaine snarled. “I trusted you to see to this, and the Cruinn is moments away from becoming foam!”
“She—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Elaine continued. “Get the healer. Patch her up enough to stand. The Siren Queen has come through the silvers and is requesting an audience. With Lady Maeve.”
“But the throne—“ Liam protested.
“Dagda’s magic won’t be so easily broken by some wretch’s hard head.” Elaine snapped. “Get her standing and come to the throne room.”
“Maeve, can you hear me?” Liam whispered, sopping the wound at the back of my head. He winced as he looked down at the sponge, turned from a pale white to red with blood. “You need to get up?”
I tried to shake my head, but the world began to spin. I was on the floor, and I didn’t remember moving. The High Throne loomed over me, the bloody teeth extended and waiting.
