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It was too late. I pinched my eyes together tightly, thinking I might disappear if I tried hard enough. Of course, I did not, and the entire barroom shifted their attention from the fight and onto Ollie and I. Aconitia’s head whipped towards us and I saw the moment she marked me as prey. Kalen must have seen it, too, because he lunged with fury at the nymph, slashing her across the thigh with his short sword as she stood distracted. Her silvery mouth opened wide, but she did not wail. Instead, her pained features melded into a look of excitement, of thrill. Aconitia lowered her head, bent at the knees, and began to stalk her opponent. Kalen remained calm but I could almost feel the dread seeping out through the sweat pebbling at his temple. Aconitia sprung forward, extending her arm in a draw cut aiming for his side. My heart stopped, if only for the time being, while they traded shots.
Despite the fear I felt, part of me was in awe. I thought I’d seen enough fighting to last me forever in the Well, but the whole thing was disturbingly entertaining. Aconitia moved like water through an aqueduct, a consistent flow of technique and angling with the occasional spurt of energy as she moved to strike. Kalen took the defensive, dodging and shoving stools and tables in front of him for cover. He even chucked a few dishes at her head. Whenever they met again in the center, the nimble woman made the Preserver look rather clumsy.
As he leaped at her, she feinted, refusing to meet metal with metal. Instead, she focused on his side, an invisible spot she’d marked and kept coming back for. Somehow, Aconitia knew that he was wounded there. As Queen of Poisons, maybe she could smell the Silverwood on him as it festered subtly beneath his scar. However she knew, she did not waste her time trying to make a fresh cut because of it. If she could play the long game, one hit to his side would leave Kalen crippled and at her mercy.
Growing tired of the cat-and-mouse affair, the onlookers began to jeer at them, egging them on and hoping to garner either’s attention long enough for the whole thing to be settled. Sensing this, Kalen moved in on her again, and this time, their blades clashed. The middle of Kalen’s sword rested on the thick base of Aconoitia’s weapon. A tense silence followed, and only the sound of their weapons straining against each other vibrated out into the room. They stared each other down, grunting and puffing, trying to hold steadfast while simultaneously searching for the other’s weak spot. This could be over in seconds, I thought, if Kalen would just summon the Light. Distract her long enough, spook her even, into surrender. I knew he wouldn’t do it, and my throat clenched to think of why. Kalen would not risk exposing me even more than had already been done, and summoning the Light would remove any doubts as to who we were and why we were there.
It was the residual guilt I felt, for having been the cause of the decision to snuff his powers, that had me reaching for my only weapon. The dagger Kalen had given me in Leoth. The blade that had burned against the inlet of my thigh since we left the safe house, that had felt so heavy as I walked mile after mile thinking about what I had done the last time I wielded one like it. It was for Kalen, I told myself, that I would raise my dagger against another, again.
The gills on Aconitia’s neck bubbled and then wrinkled tight against their slats as she took one last breath, holding it to parry the point of Kalen’s sword until it brokeaway, and tore into that wound she’d been determined to reopen. Kalen’s strength in his stance began to buckle and his feet began to slide backward on the floor. One more push from Aconitia and this would all be over. Through the pounding of blood in my eardrums, I heard the gasps from onlookers as I sprang from my place on the sidelines into the makeshift ring.
At my interception, all mortal hell broke loose.
OUR CAPTORS WERE SURPRISINGLYaccommodating, allowing us to be escorted back to our lodgings and gather our things once they handed us our arses inside the tavern. They even let Kalen and I saddle our mounts before binding our wrists to the tack with boat ties steeped in the ash of Silverwood.
As we rode in silence, I was sure that the gag in Kalen’s mouth was the only thing keeping him from tearing into me. I bit down on my own restraint, the wound I’d procured on my leg sending a sharp jolt of pain into my hip.
The mare’s coarse trot along the vast expanse of sand was doing nothing to ease the sharp tingle of poison in my blood. Nor the sting of embarrassment, which was arguably becoming worse than that of the cut.The only thing keeping my pride intact was the knowledge that I’d put up a good fight—albeit a short one.
Before my feet had touched the ground, Aconitia had broken blades with Kalen, the force of her weapon curving outward and slicing the skin of my thigh. I fell to my knees, the fast-acting agents of her poison ripped through my veins, rendering my leg practically lame.
I managed to pull myself from the bar floor and sock my fist into the side of the nymph’s mouth. She replied with a heavy hand of her own which admittedly, was better aimed than my throw had been. The world swayed back and forth, my dizzying head allowing me to blurrily bear witness to two Merlords as they lunged at Kalen. Aconitia’s posse tackled him to the ground and pummeled his face with their fists. With Kalen restrained,there had been no point in fighting and the spectacle I’d summoned ruined any possibility of our escape.
In short, I had mucked the whole thing up. But I’d gotten in a punch, and no matter how much trouble I was in with Kalen, I couldn’t hide the busted smile that frisked the cloth of my bindings.
Far into the distance, the sun breached the edge of the world, slowly filling the night sky with a pale, yellow ember. The sand turned from grey to the color of flaxseed and the black tides slowly faded into a shimmering teal. Had I not been in such a sour mood, I would have admired it a great deal.
The way the waves lapped onto the morning shore, the sound of gulls crooning above the mist, silhouettes of the city hugging the curved horizon. The only thing missing from my sight was any indication at all we were nearing the castle.
Despite the inn’s close vicinity to the palace, we had been at it for hours. If someone didn’t tend to my wound soon, I was sure I’d fall off my horse—dead. I knew I was catastrophizing, but the combination of Aconitia’s poison draining down my leg and the heady feeling sinking into my brain as I breathed in Silverwood had been doing some sort of lethal dance in my system. Immortality aside, I was becoming wretchedly ill.
In fact, I was so ill that I barely noticed the blast of air shattering around us as we breached a glamour. The magic was so potent that the salt air smelled of rusting metal for the brief moment we walked the plane between it. I wrinkled my nose and then gaped at the monument that had been erected in front of us from out of thin air. Two towers reached upward to the clouds, their domes forged in coppery metal. The sun glanced off each of them in a halo, like a message from the Mother that this was a blessed place.
The Palace was crafted from the Four Winds, each summoned for Ione by Thesion when she was crowned queen. A gust fromeach cardinal direction created such pressure that the beach had no choice but to bend its knee and pledge allegiance to the new High Mer. That was the story Aconitia recited at least, breaking the silence. Her lackeys grunted in affirmation as they trotted at her flanks.
Taking a closer look, I thought it may have been true. The fortress walls looked to be made of plastered sand, a beautiful color of beige that glistened as if the Sea had just washed away from it at low tide. Broken chips of shell were molded along the corners where the beach met the castle in all shades of coral and peach. Of course, the palace was far enough inland and behind so many protective dunes that the Sea would never reach it unless called for by the High Mer herself. Stiff reeds of grass sieved through the dry beach floor, tall enough to tickle my legs as we made our way to the main gate.
We stood awaiting entry when very suddenly, my mare whinnied and bucked. A tiny creature, strangely translucent, skittered across her hoof. It paused, lifting a white armored claw bearing a deep cobalt stripe and pinched at her heels before fleeing sideways up the steel railings. I rubbed at her flank with the calf of my good leg. An attempt that was made to calm the both of us, though definitely had little effect on either. With a jarring creak, the palace gates opened and we made our way into the court of Sea.
Inside the castle, Ione joined us quickly. I sent a silent thank you to the Mother, unsure of how much longer I could spend waiting at what felt like the end of my life. I was groaning on and on in my head about the wound, and from our place across each other, I could tell it was irking Kalen.
Stop listening if my whining bothers you, I thought to him in my head.It won’t stop any time soon.
Kalen’s lips twitched underneath his gag before he winced and then turned his face from me. Aconitia and her spies tooktheir places on either side of the dais. Not a single one of their muscles moved until Ione settled into her throne, smoothed out her signature grey dress, and crossed her arms gracefully against her stomach.
“Aconitia, release them.”
Ione’s demand rang out with regal clarity. The nymph spy stalked toward me first, took out her blade, and stripped me of my restraints. I grimaced as the cloth of my gag pulled skin from the corners of my mouth. Aconitia smirked at my pain and moved to untie Kalen.
When she was finished with his bindings, she brought them to the foot of Ione’s dais where there were two fat basins of stone and water. Tossing our bloodied rags into the air, Ione misted them into water with a single glance. Ashen rain splattered into the tubs.Quite a show. Finally, a Sage with some royal flare. I grumbled, rubbing at the deep purple rings burned into my wrists. “Thank you, your Grace, for such wonderful hospitality.”
One of Ione’s jet-black brows peaked with interest. “She speaks.”
If my leg hadn’t been leaking foamy blood onto her floor, I might have taken the time to be offended. The wound on my thigh was becoming a thought-blurring pain. Sensing my annoyance, Kalen took it upon himself to be the diplomat. The Mother knew he was better at it.
“Are we your hostages, High Mer?” Kalen demanded.
Ione slowly pulled her eyes from mine. “You know, I’ve never liked that term:hostage.It’s very biased. I’d prefer to call you my guest,” she replied. A snide grin crept up her face. “My brother Dario wrote to me the other day, after discovering that the two of you had passed through Grovsney, headed to the Alto. I thought it unwise not to keep the promise I made to you in Leoth, dear Gwynore.”
