Another step. His hand doesn’t loosen, and he doesn’t let me stop. My legs buckle out beneath me, and he lets go of my hand to wrap his arm around my waist instead. Roiven hauls my arm over his shoulder and strides forward. If I don’t move my feet, they drag. I have no choice.
The sand gets hard by the tideline, packed and firm. And then a wave breaks over my boot, the water seeping inside, and the sea is touching me.
“See? It’s…” Roiven starts.
My whole body rebels. With a cry of disgust I wrench myself free and hurl myself back up the beach. Falling to my hands and knees, I empty my stomach, but there’s nothing in there after the long night. Just bile. I shake and pant. Tears pool at my eyes and splatter onto the sand below.
Roiven’s hands gather my hair back as I sob.
“I’m sorry,” I croak.
“For what?”
“I’m weak.”
“You’re a lot of things. Weak has never been one of them.” His voice is hoarse.
I spit and sit back on the sand, wishing I had water to rinse my mouth with, wishing I was anywhere but here. I want to be done. I want to rest. But the threat of the Hellions is an ever-present warning in my mind, and there’s no time for anything else.
I gave up on making it to the council at Barivum. I gave up on asking the War-Father to negotiate. I can’t give up on this, too.
That blue light, the explosion in the sky. They could do it somewhere else. They could do it here.
And I'm useless. There must be some way I can contribute.
“I should keep working on removing the enchantment from you,” I say.
Roiven shakes his head.
“You need to save your strength. It can wait, until… if we get an after.”
But it's the only thing I'm capable of doing to help right now. One rusty swordswoman can't take down a navy, and the ocean… I shudder. I'm not strong enough.
“But if it would help…”
“I can fight and use my magic. That's all I need.”
“I know you want me to help you. I don’t see how else I can,” I whisper to him.
I can see the hesitation on Roiven's face. He runs his hand over his face before speaking.
“Let me take your armor off.”
I bite my lip and grasp the metal arm with my living hand, running my fingers over it. This is part of me. I don’t even know if there’s anything left underneath. And it’s imperial, enchanted armor, the last part of me that feels like home.
Even if I don’t know what home is anymore. I close my eyes and try to push down the pounding feeling in my head
“It welded together when it melted. It can’t come off.”
“Would you let me try?” Roiven asks.
“What are you going to do?” I ask warily.
“Cleave it open.”
“How?”
“A simple spell.”
