Page 146 of A Sea of Fate and Starfire

“A drone?” he asked, surprised. Then cleared his throat, attention shifting back to Selena. “Drones can’t cordae.”

I doubted that was true, but I didn’t know very much about drones. Certainly not enough to argue with him. I’ll ask Selena tonight, I thought by habit, before remembering, like a sharp thorn that ached in my side only when I twisted a certain way, that I couldn’t.

“Do you recognize her?” I asked, though I knew he did. Still, something in my gut squeezed. That I’d hoped so hard his answer would be yes, I’d only imagined the way he stared at her like a page torn from a book he’d forgotten he’d once read.

“I do.” He shook the strands of auburn from overbright eyes, folding the portrait and offering it to me. “I haven’t seen her in a long time. She was a friend. Of Oberon’s.”

“She was?” Sparks lit in my chest. Fresh tracks in the snow—an answer I could finally see under all my wild circling. “Do you know if she left a message with him? A letter for Pheolix, or maybe directions somewhere? Of where Thaan might go if he ever left the Palace?”

“Sorry,” Kazimir whispered. “That I don’t know.” He pushed the portrait closer toward me, like it had suddenly grown too heavy for him to hold.

I reached for it. Wrapped my fingers around it, around his hand. But I couldn’t make myself take it. My throat swelled, air collapsing before I could send it to my lungs. The frayed edge of the canvas became a blurred line, and my mouth forgot how to remain still, my lower lip twisting and pushing into my top.

Taking the portrait from him was like accepting defeat, and I didn’t know why. I’d been so angry with Selena. I was still angry. She’d led Kye to his death, forcing me to sacrifice my cordae to bring him back.

But she’d also transitioned me. Held my hand through the pain, reminded me I wasn’t alone. Spent countless hours teaching me, coaching me, training me.

Until the ocean dries up. Until the moon burns out.

I wanted to forgive her, and I was terrified I didn’t know how. That I might never get the chance. That being angry was like swallowing a hurricane of wrathful voices and vicious words, whirling and whirling inside me until I was dizzy and sick with fury, with no one to hold my hair back as I forced it back out. That something would happen, because something always happened, and I’d be stuck with a storm inside me, a cyclone of words that sliced like knives and shredded my soul with every thought.

“That’s all right,” I said, my voice a weak, feeble thing that didn’t even sound like mine. I could almost see myself reflected in his eyes, a Naiad Queen reduced to begging an enemy of Calder for hope, a stone’s throw away from tears.

Kazimir’s steely eyes almost softened. “You care about her.”

“I—yes. I care about her. She’s my aunt,” I said, because for some reason it was easy to admit to him. He hadn’t known Selena or the message she’d delivered to me from Theia. That I was the warrior of a Triad, that I’d crossed the stars. That he’d killed Kye once, and I’d undone his death like a knot pulled from fate’s loom. There was no need to pretend with Kazimir, because he was Rivean, and even if he judged me, he’d eventually return to Rivea, and I’d never see him again.

A moment came and went, light racing behind his eyes, perhaps the universal panic of a man realizing a woman might cry. He pushed the canvas at me again, and this time I took it, laying it neatly on the table.

The walk back to Kye’s tower was silent without my questions. I floated deep within my own thoughts, a broken ship as the sea slowly devours it into the dark. The tower steps groaned twice as loudly as we climbed the stairs, the soft creak in the windows like shouting in my ears. Kazimir reached to open the door for me, and I looked up at him, a final question shimmering into my head.

“What did Selena do, when she used to visit Oberon?”

He opened his mouth to answer, hinges creaking as he pushed into the door with a hand.

Light glinted off silver, a flash in my eyes. A blade plunged into his stomach.

Part III

The City of Towers

64

Maren

Kazimir doubled over with a sharp gasp. The blade ripped from his body.

I’d already pushed him into the door jamb, water sliding down my fingers, charged and ready with all the electrons drifting in the air nearby.

Across the threshold stood a male Naiad I’d never seen before, eyes cast in shadow under the wide brim of their hood.

A drone.

He dropped a dagger, Kazimir’s blood splattering over the floorboards, and reached for a twin weapon at his hip. I shoved into him. We crashed on the floor, whiplash jolting through my spine as I raked his chest, calling the water in his blood.

It bubbled under his skin. The Naiad screamed, a curdling roar that raised every hair on my body. Red roses bloomed over his face and arms. He clawed my hand, locked onto his chest, but I’d already stolen his strength, his attack nothing more than finger-strokes against my arm.

A hand fisted in my hair, yanking me off, throwing me into the back of the couch I’d sat at for most of the day. Wood snapped, bowing against my back. I rolled to my feet.