The South Wind lunges. Prince Balior stumbles back, unprepared for the speed with which Notus moves. As he hurries to shield himself, Zephyrus darts toward Eurus, with Boreas approaching from the opposite direction.
A wall of black smoke slams them back.
“Uh-uh.” Prince Balior smiles at Zephyrus, having tossed Notus across the clearing. “Tricky Bringer of Spring.”
Boreas leaps with a snarl. He evades one, two, three spheres of darkness, before one tosses him sideways. Moments later, Notus is locked blade to blade with the prince, who grins at him through their crossed swords. He shoves hard, a wave of shadow shunting back the South Wind, who dives, slashing at Prince Balior’s ankles. The man parries the attack, flinging small shadow blades at his opponent in retaliation. Notus drops and rolls, but not before they cut through clothing, into skin.
“Notus!” Zephyrus tosses his brother both daggers he carries. Catching them in midair, the South Wind flings one toward his foe’s chest. As Prince Balior dodges the first knife, a second arrows toward his stomach. The blade sinks deep.
The prince stumbles, face draining of color. Blood sops the front of his robe. “Finish it!” he barks at Lady Clarisse, then tosses her a dagger. She catches it with a triumphant smile.
My heart kicks once, then beats still.No.
I sprint for the East Wind, who is now entirely encased in shadow. “Let him go!” I scream.
Lady Clarisse whirls around. Her mouth curls in thinly veiled surprise. “And what are you going to do about it, useless girl? Go back to St. Laurent where you belong and await my return.”
I stand my ground. “If you’re looking for the East Wind’s ax, I already told you it was lost during the tournament. You are wasting your time.”
“As always, Min, you are continually two steps behind. I don’t need the East Wind’s ax.” She lifts the dagger. “See this blade? A gift from the beast to Prince Balior. It is god-touched.”
Lightning erupts overhead. Its flash of brilliance highlights the long hollows beneath her eyes, the cavities in her cheeks. If I’m not mistaken, the wall of the surrounding storm appears to be sinking inward, almost as if the protections around the island are beginning to falter.
“You’re bluffing,” I growl, though I dare not remove my eyes from the blade.
“Hm, well, I suppose we can’t be certain.” She peers at me through short, black lashes. “Shall we try?” The dagger spears down.
As the blade kisses Eurus’ chest, I ram Lady Clarisse with all my strength. We crash onto the ground, through thick muck and trampled grass. The dagger flies from her grip.
I dive for it. My fingers wrap around the hilt, yet she claws at my face, screaming, “No!” Her nails catch the edge of my eye, and I recoil with a yelp, the weapon slipping from my possession as I hurriedly lift my hand to protect my face. Blood douses my vision, the world hazed crimson.
Lady Clarisse climbs to her feet, the dagger fisted in her hand, and I lunge, plowing into her stomach. We tumble backward, nearer to the cliff’s edge.
She kicks out with one heeled boot. A painedoofleaves my body, but I grit my teeth, my sight set on that dagger. Never again will I cower. The realization is fuel, which births fire, and from that fire, the rage of a decade’s worth of abuse.
I scream. It erupts, deafening, choked with emotion. Lady Clarisse’s eyes widen as I yank on her hair, pinning her in place long enough to pry the weapon from her hand.
Pain explodes across my face, my head snapping sideways from the force of Lady Clarisse’s fist. I drop, knees slamming into mud. Rain pelts my body. No, not rain—hail.
Through the blurred roar of the storm, I swear a softly uttered “bird” flits through the din. I blink at the East Wind. The top of his skull anda portion of his face have pulled free of the sucking substance, but he struggles to open his eyes.
Meanwhile, the Anemoi are locked in battle with Prince Balior. Together, they drive him toward the ledge, dodging his power, pressing their advantage as he bleeds out from the wound in his gut.
Something shoves me onto my back, and I blink, dazed, as Lady Clarisse sneers down at me, one hand locked around my neck.
“You are nothing,” she spits at me. “A waste is what you’ll always b—”
My fist snaps out, smashing into her nose. She stumbles backward, but the edge of the cliff is closer than I had realized. And as Lady Clarisse’s foot slips over the drop, she snags my leg, pulling me with her.
I scream, attempting to twist free, but I’m already falling. My fingers catch the ledge, and a burn rips through my shoulder joint as I’m yanked to a halt, her ladyship dangling from my legs with a screech of terror.
Below, the sea churns. I blink back tears, praying to the Mother of Earth for aid, anything that might help me survive this day.
“Bird!”
I gasp.Eurus. “I’m here!” I cry, but the storm strips my voice with little effort.
When I attempt to disentangle my legs from Lady Clarisse’s grip, she shrieks, grasping tighter, her sobs rising through the ping of hail on stone.
