I slow to a stop before him, halting myself by prodding him in the chest with my finger. “Men like you—the ones so used to being in control—will lie without hesitation. And even when you’re caught, you don’t feel the slightest bit of remorse. If anything, you’ll make the other person think that they were the one who misunderstood.”
He grabs my hand, holding it so tightly my knucklesalmosthurt from the compression. “Do not insult my integrity.”
“No?” I tilt my head and fight a scowl. As disgusted as I feel, I won’t permit him the satisfaction of causing me to lose my composure. “You mean to tell me you don’t see the whole world as a collection of fools?”
“Most of the world might be fools.” It’s as if he’s trying to burrow into my mind with his stare. To expose every weakness or insecurity I’ve ever had. “But there are a good few who are not. Those close to me. I didn’t take you for one, for example.”
Was that a compliment? “What did I tell you about flattery?”
“It’s not flattery if it’s true.”
“You hardly know me.”
“Don’t I though?” His grip relaxes some.
“Then tell me the truth, now.”
“I didn’t lie to you. It is difficult and dangerous to cross through the Gray Trench. But I also admitted we have other methods of moving—the traveler’s pools.” He’s still holding me in place.
“You said they were closed due to the rot.” The reminder eases the edges of my anger, bringing back details of our previous conversation.
“Only recently.” He frowns. “And before you look for places to make accusations where there aren’t any, I brought you back using a rare boon given from the Duchy of Faith—an elixir of crushed leaves of the Lifetree, ground with the sand on the beach and mixed waters from its roots to create portable transport that returns one to the heart of the Eversea with a song. That was the only one I had and there’s no way for me to get another. I’m hiding nothing from you, Victoria, and I have not lied.”
I relent with a sigh, glancing away.
“Has my explanation satisfied you?” He finally releases my hand. I’d forgotten he was holding onto it yet am painfully aware of its absence. Why does it feel so natural for him to touch me when it is proclaimed to be forbidden?
“For now.”
“You’re too kind.” Ilryth moves for the center of the amphitheater stage, holding out his hands. I go to him with little hesitation. The sooner we do this, the sooner I will be able to save my family. Our fingers curl around each other’s once more. He draws me close. The feeling of the smooth scales of his tail against my legs as we bump together sends a jolt through me. “Now, let’s begin,” he declares, his voice low and commanding.
* * *
I standat the top of the lighthouse. The flame is hot at my back, beacon forever churning slowly thanks to a paddle wheel on one side of the island that’s regularly bombarded with waves. The spotlight flashes across the rocks of the distant shore. It reaches out toward the impenetrable Gray Passage and promptly halts against the wall of storms that churn in the distance.
It’s a dark wish to hope that a storm might break free of the passage and reach the lighthouse…but it would be something to break the monotony.
Every five minutes, the beacon illuminates the distant supply house on the far shore and the little rowboat tied up there. It’s been there for three weeks now. Unmoving. As tied to its location as I am here.
Charles had said it’d be only a few days. Something important must’ve kept him…
I force myself awake.It’s a dream I know too well. A dream that’s haunted me many, many times—enough that I can recognize it even in sleep and reject it.
It’s hard to tell whether it’s very early or very late. The moon has gone from full when I first arrived to now being nothing more than a sliver. I push away from my bed, drifting to my balcony to see if the faint light is from the moon or a distant dawn. Is it worth it to try and go back to sleep, or should I wait to meet the sun?
Right when I cross out from underneath the coral shelf that hangs above me, a low, ominous note trembles across the earth. It’s followed by a high-pitched sound. To call it singing would be generous. More like shrieking. The noise immediately puts me on guard.
Other voices join in to form a similar chorus to my first night here. How long has it been? Two weeks, based on the moon? Time has gone painfully slow and yet fast at the same time given how my every day has been filled with learning their words and songs.
I look to the trench, but see no sign of tentacles. I squint, trying to make out any shifting shadows in the inky night. Still nothing.
There are no warriors moving. No chatter of dolphins. Yet, the song continues. It rolls like a wave. Hasty and frantic before suddenly collapsing into silence. The voices seem to come from across the manor. All distant, and yet close, given how they resound in my mind.
The water is still. There isn’t the slightest bit of movement to it. When the next doldrum of silence overtakes the song, it feels as if the sea itself is holding its breath.
Something is wrong.
A flash of light has my attention jerking in one direction. It’s gone in a blink. Like a firefly vanishing into the dusk.
