Sometime after that, Glacies arrived. My betrothed, beautiful but cold. It was obvious she wanted nothing to do with me. I hated watching the engagement frost her over, hardening her more with each passing day. She’d lost family to the Shadow as well, and along with Pisceon, we found some kind of friendship in our bleak existence.
Then I met Morgana, and everything changed. Slowly, the world around me returned to color.
Looking in the mirror, I clicked my ornate bracers into place, pausing when I reached the right wrist. The creeping black veins were inky stains against my skin, but they hadn’t grown since we’d been in Okeanós. Perhaps it was because I hadn’t been using my magic, or it could be from the shred of power that had been returned to us.
Since she’d left, the darkness had consumed me. There was no horizon, no current beneath me. I was sinking. My heart was a ship with no compass, circling the same dark seas. There was no moon or stars in these waters. No, they’d turned their backs; there was no light withouther.
The door to my chambers flew open, and Pisceon emerged. He was alsodressed in his armor, which clinked as he moved toward me. “The Siren girl left to find the seal girl without us.” A muscle feathered in his jaw.
“So we follow her. She’s got no training. She’ll need us.”
“The guards informed me that Aranare went after her.”
Typical White Knight Williamson. My fists curled at my sides, and my gills flared, but I released them with a bubbly exhale. At least they had a better chance with him—I should be grateful.
I bared my teeth, lashing my tail. “We leave now.”
Pisceon threw out a muscled arm.
“What?” I growled.
“The scouts we sent to Mors have returned. The kingdom lies in ruins, overrun with Drowned. With the Garden now under Manannán’s control, it no longer claims their souls, not even those driven rabid by bloodlust.”
“Oh, holy gods.”
“There’s something else.” Every muscle in Pisceon’s torso tensed.
“Tell me, cousin.” I bit down so hard my teeth hurt, and he shifted uncomfortably before me.
“The scouts reported seeing two Drowned men escorting a red-haired woman into the war camp.”
I drew a rough breath, taming the fury burning through my insides. “So he has her. I can’t...Iwon’tgive up on her. If I have to tear down his kingdom on my own, so be it.”
Pisceon nodded. “You know I’ll always have your back, but we need to be strategic. Your father is with the other kings and queens. The armies are rallying here. We are going to march on Mortimer and then Port Royal.”
I exhaled slowly. “Then I’ll stay. We’ll ready our armies and march them to the Lord of the Drowned’s door. And when I face him—the man who killed my mother and stole the girl Ilove—he will meet my blade.”
Pisceon cracked his neck, mouth twitching into a grin. “Oh, good, I’m ready for some bloodshed.” He slapped me on the back, his silver breastplate clinking as he retreated, leaving me alone with my thoughts again.
I swung open the doors to my balcony and drifted out, pressing my palms into the cold stone railings as I surveyed the beautiful gardens below and the desert of dunes beyond the gate.
The Mer are going to war.
I breathed out, my gills flaring as I stared into the distance. Everything seemed so still, but only for a moment.
It started with a noise, like wind on land—the ripple of thousands of tails swishing in succession. My eyes flicked to the rolling expanse of the dunes. At their crests, dots of color appeared as that sound swelled around me.
The Mer armies were arriving.
As I leaned against the balcony railing, the specks of color gathered into a glimmering formation across the sands before the castle, the water swirling in rivulets around them. Each contingent bore its house’s distinct colors and symbols, a rainbow of scales and banners unfurling before my eyes.
I was dying. Having a third of my power back would subdue the Shadow, but it wouldn’t stop it. And I’d sold my soul to the spirit of Kyano to protect Morgana from my father and the prophecy. Would it all be for nothing?
No. I would make sure of it.
It won’t matter if I’m gone . . .Ours is a story of almosts, and I’m the one who broke any hope we had. But I can’t, I won’t see her give herself up for the prophecy, not when there is a way to save her.
Doubt crept in, and I wondered if Skye was right. Should I have toldMorgana what was in the prophecy and let her decide? No, I’d made the right choice. If the Trinity was found, I could save my people from the Shadow, and Morgana wouldn’t have to die.
