Page 147 of A Sea of Fate and Starfire

At least twenty Naiads filled the room.

Water gushed from my hands. I threw it like a tide, unleashing an ocean into the dark room. Waves crashed across the wall, cresting angrily to the ceiling, surging in the opposite direction. The swell smashed into bodies and bookshelves and furniture, cracks of rippling from the corners of the ceiling. Glass shrieked like a high-pitched scream, windows blowing out against the pressure. The current dragged my feet dully toward open air as water spilled from a black hole in the wall.

The groan of real thunder rumbled overhead, electricity lancing through my shoulders to my hands, sparks flying like shooting stars from my fingers.

And teeth.

Teeth in front of me, clenched, bared. Wide teeth, short nails burrowing into my shoulder. I grabbed them by the neck, not caring who they were, forcing water down their throat until they let go, eyes bulging with flaming veins.

Someone grabbed me from behind, twisted my arm into the small of my back. A corkscrew of tight fire erupted from my shoulder as I slammed sideways, rocking into the wall. Into broken chair legs and overturned books and a flotsam of items so out of place along the floor, I almost thought I’d never seen them before. Candles and silverware, shoes and corks, my feather pen and the broken stem of a crystal goblet. Among them, a whip of a man, small and human, a red slash across his throat, eyes and mouth half open.

“Leal,” a gurgling version of my voice yelled as someone shoved my head into the inch-deep water sloshing over the floor. A fingernail drew a line from my elbow to my wrist.

Flames exploded down my arm.

I went limp, dead weight attached to my shoulder, my fingers curling, coiling, trembling.

“Marked her,” said whoever was holding me down. Their bulk lifted off me, leaving me shaking in the shallow pool of the room. I pushed up against my elbow, gasping for air under the white flame licking down my wounded arm, calling for water. But it had snapped out of my grasp, flung out of my reach.

The cut down my arm was shallow, non-lethal. White-silver gleamed under my skin, lighting my tattoos like someone had poured metal, liquid and fiery, into my blood.

A Naiad loomed over me, cool and pressing eyes of icy blue.

“You,” I murmured, pulling my dead arm to my chest. Shock hit me like a furious river, tumbling and churning over my head, forcing me under the surface. In his hand sat the weapon he’d used. A little throwing knife, its shining blade dulled by powdered ash.

I’d thought they were drones.

But drones do not carry weapons.

“It isn’t personal.” He squatted before me, forearms resting over his knees. “You have to understand, Queen. They killed my cordae within these walls and hid her body. Probably threw her away like she was nothing more than a pile of human waste.”

“Who did?” I seethed, my teeth sharp over the words. Behind an overturned table, Kazimir’s legs and feet spasmed over the floor, the ash in his blood contorting his muscles. A fate that would descend upon me in minutes.

“Does it matter?” the Naiad said. “Thaan, Selena, Pheolix, your mother. We’ve waited months for someone to explain. No one has. In my mind”—he stood, tilting his head as he gazed down at me, his black hair sliding along his shoulder—“they’re all guilty. Now, stand up.”

“Why?” I spat, forcing my gaze to stay on him. They threatened to trickle down to Leal. His skin had already grayed and wilted, and the ugly gash across his neck wasn’t even bleeding anymore. It hung open, bright and red like a second mouth, hungry for my eyes. My stomach convulsed.

“Because,” he said, “you’re coming with me.”

“The Darkness I am.” I glanced around for something to defend myself. A candlestick, a broken bottle, a shard of glass. Leal’s shirt stretched over his hip, glazed with the sheen of water absorbed in the fabric, a long ridge over the side of his hip.

The Naiad saw it too. He nudged Leal’s hip with his bare foot, rolling the sheathed blade out of my reach. “Stand or I’ll make you stand. You won’t like the way we make you.”

Kye. I sent his name through the walls and across the waves, miles away from me. I need you.

“Where’s your Videre? I assume he’s with you.” My words caught on my breath, rapidly growing shallow, each syllable like a punch to the gut.

Where are you?

Your tower.

“Right here.” Sindri stepped back. And Aegir, watching from the open door, floated forward.

I’m coming. I’m on my way—stay where you are.

Ripples expanded from Aegir’s feet, the hem of his silver silk cloak dragging in the shallow water behind him, not even splashing as he crossed the floor. He looked down at me without apology, even as my breath stuttered, my cradled arm aflame, my wrist beginning to twist and bend oddly. Shield weed ash leeched through my blood, thick in my lungs, swelling my throat. Acid gathered at the back of my mouth, bitter and frothy, a burn behind my tongue.

“Stand up,” Aegir said.