He loves me enough to remain mute forever, ensuring my vanity remains intact. He chooses a quiet prison over asking a sacrifice of my comfort.
That profound, selfless love grants me the courage to sever the past.
"I don't need it," I whisper, meeting his dark eyes. "I see myself in you."
A shudder rips through his frame. His rough fingers dig into my waist, anchoring my body to his own in the freezing water. A ragged breath escapes his ruined throat.
Turning to the witch, I hand the silver mirror to her.
Snatching it with a wet croon, she caresses the polished silver with her flabby fingers, mimicking a starving creature hoarding fresh meat.
She tosses the glass vial. I catch it against my chest.
"Drink it fast, monster," Oona warns, retreating into the green shadows of her jar-lined museum. "The violent voice has suffered a dam for a long time. When the barrier breaks, it tends to drown things."
My fingers crush around the glass vial. My free hand drops to the hilt of my ceremonial dagger, the familiar sting of the ray-skin grip grounding my fury.
"He is no monster," I snap. My voice rings with authority, the sound cracking like a whip against the thousands of glass jars.
A grinding laugh echoes from the shadows. Oona vanishes behind the curtain of rotting puffer-fish, leaving us alone in the sickly green light.
Anger vibrates in my marrow, leaving my chest heaving in the stagnant water. I want to chase her into the shadows. I want to draw my blade and demand her respect. But Kael swims closer.
Placing his larger hand over mine, he covers the vial, shielding it from the glowing jars and the suffocating silence of the witch's museum. Pulling my fist to his broad chest, he presses my knuckles over the steady rhythm of his heart.
The solid heat of his skin settles my racing pulse.
His dark eyes lock onto mine. He ignores the cure.
Thank you,he signs with his free hand. The motion carries the weight of a sacred vow. He offers the gesture for the loss of the mirror, but the raw devotion burning in his dark eyes reveals the truth. He offers his gratitude for the defense of his soul.
"Always," I whisper. The word catches in my throat.
We refuse to linger in the cavern.
I turn my back on the Trench Witch. I abandon the polished silver mirror. I forfeit my vanity, severing the final tether to my life in the glittering upper reef.
Kael takes the lead. Guiding my body through the jagged fissure, his broad shoulders push the toxic kelp aside to clear a safe path for my scales.
We swim from the cursed cave, emerging into the freezing smog of the Silt District.
I clutch the glass vial to my chest. My heart races with a terrifying, beautiful hope.
We will break the dam.
Chapter 17
The Resonance
Vaelis
Weleavethecavernfast.
We do not go far. We can't.
Just outside the jagged fissure, resting in the suffocating shadow of a collapsed ventilation tower, we find a small alcove. It is hidden by a wall of rusted iron pipes and towering stalks of toxic kelp.
We stop there, sinking down into the soft floor.
