I had arrived just in time to fail. To witness the fury in her face as she screamed her grief at them, her rage sending grown men shrinking back in fear before she chose the water over a sharp blade and cold hands of men who would have done worse.
I had thought that was the end of it. Had dropped to my knees, cutting them open on broken pottery, and had stared at those waves.
And then the screaming started.
Selene’s voice pierces my memory. “The water dragged her down. Weighted her, and held her close, and filled her lungs with salt to cleanse the rage that filled them, until she felt nothing at all.”
The waves churn, flip. The soldiers on the wall sweep into wisps of smoke, vanishing. And the girl flips and tumbles, over and over again. “The world began to scream, but the girl heard nothing. She slept, although others would have called it death. She slept for a long time, until the water turned warmer, and the chilled air softened to a baking heat.”
The ribbons gently push the shadowed girl forward. Away from the waves, toward a city of shadow that rises up, blockingmy view of the Rio and Esme opposite. “When the girl finally awoke, buried beneath mud that threatened to choke her, there were men digging for treasure on the banks of the red lands. They dragged her free of the mud, cleared it from her mouth, and offered her a deal.”
Figures wisp into existence around the girl. My brows crease as they push her down, shadows rushing over her head. Again. And again, shadowed legs kicking in a desperation I canfeel.
“When the girl refused, they pushed her back into the mud. Held her down, until it filled her. Again, and again, until she agreed to their terms. And they called it free will, as they trapped her behind stone walls and paraded her to those who could meet the price.”
A sound close to a sob comes from Esme, on the other side.
“Indenture.” At the horrified hiss, I turn. Sol steps up to stand beside me. “Slavery in its base form may be illegal in Terrosa, but the practice remains behind closed doors. They call it indentured servitude.”
“It’s just another word for the same damned thing,” Esme snaps. “But you have to agree to it, in theory. So theymadeher agree.”
And they bought Selene’s agreement by drowning her in the mud banks until she gave herself to them.
I had believed her dead. And she had told me earlier that she had wished for that. Had offered herself that first night, giving me her back, revealing wings bound through with gods-damned copper.
Most seem to prefer it from behind. You can hold onto my wings that way. It seems to add some sort of excitement.
“Enough,” Sol’s voice whips through the shadows. They swirl, as if responding. “I am sorry. Let her go.”
Black eyes fix on him. “I am her. Andyou do not give me orders.”
“Holy gods,” Riordan mutters. His fingers flick. “Back away, Sol.”
He doesn’t. He steps closer, skirting the shadows that still show the girl being pushed down into that mud, over and over again. He stops in front of her. “I’m sorry, Selene.”
Those eyes assess him. “Perhaps you would like to see how your story ends.”
A pale hand lifts. Sol flinches, but stays where he is. “I would prefer to face an unknown future than a certain end.”
The hand remains raised for a few moments longer, before it lowers. The shadows roll back, slowly, vanishing back into her palms. Slowly, the glow fades. Leaving scratched, bloodied skin behind that only stokes the anger burning in my chest higher.
For what we did to her. For what they did.
Sol catches Selene when she crumples, her eyes rolling back. He swears, swinging her up into his arms, the fragile silk of her wings crumpling under his grip. “Merrick—what do we do?”
My eyes trace her face, the translucent black lines that cover her eyelids. She doesn’t stir as Merrick gently collects her wrist, turning it over. His lips press into a thin line. “This is beyond my knowledge. I’ve never known a faeyte who could wield shadows as the Travelers wield flame. It was not something ever discussed in my presence, if it was known at all.”
Sol stares down at the marks. Seeing what I did. The scabbed, broken skin. The scars. “What do I do with her?”
“Give her to me.” I step forward immediately. And for once, he doesn’t argue.
Selene is reassuringly solid in my arms as I cradle her. I have to hold her almost flush against me to give her wings space.
Sol turns. “Rio, come with me.”
“Where are we going?” Rio hands off a quiet Leo to Esme, stepping up. Sol only shakes his head as they head to the steps.
“Her breathing is steady enough. Likely just rest.” Merrick looks at me, something unspoken in his eyes. “You’ll stay with her.”
