Behind my eyelids, memories of my wedding are blotted away. First the color of my dress…the expression on my mother’s face…dancing with my father.
Ilryth’s grip tightens on my corporeal form, as if he’s trying to hold me in place.
The moment the memory is gone, there’s nothing but a void for the words of the old gods to fill. The second they occupy that space, understanding follows. I can wrap my hands around them. The power is mine for the taking.
The song reaches its peak and I open my eyes to find a faint, silvery haze shining in the water around us—the same as what hovered around the anamnesis. It fades to reveal clear water, plants vibrant and healthy, shining a happy purple light down upon us. There is not even a trace of the rot. I am breathless as Ilryth’s arms slowly unravel from me.
“I knew you could do it.” There’s a note of pride in his voice that makes my toes curl. “You’re ready for the trench, I think.”
Before I can respond, Yenni’s eyes open. Sheel and Sanva must have heard something of my song, for they come rushing in. Stop. And stare.
With an outburst of tears, they both throw their arms around their daughter—scarred from the rot, but sharp-eyed and otherwise healthy.
CHAPTER17
Sanva and Sheeltry to convince us to stay. They offer us an early dinner and Ilryth politely declines, saying that we are needed back in the estate. By the time we’re leaving, I have a small bag of gelatin candies that Sanva thrust into my hands, refusing to let me leave without any gesture of gratitude. Sheel tried to get me to take two bags. Somehow, in an afternoon, I’ve warmed to him enough that I genuinely consider it.
“Are we actually needed back at the estate?” I ask when we’re alone in front of their home.
“Not in the slightest.” Ilryth twirls in the water. “I thought it would be nice for them to have some time alone, as a family.”
“How long was she like that?”
He doesn’t respond for long enough that I worry I’ve somehow upset him. Though I don’t know how I could’ve. The question seemed harmless enough.
“She was the first to fall ill, and the worst. The only one Lucia couldn’t manage to stave off the rot within before the barriers were established.” His gaze sweeps across the landscape, landing on the trench. “Yenni became sick because of me.”
“Ilryth…”
“It’s true,” he insists. “I sent Sheel into the trench on a deep mission with one of the new recruits. The rot was on him when he returned. We were careless and Yenni paid the price. I sent Sheel out again too soon. Sanva was assisting Lucia with attending the warriors… Neither of them were home when they should have been. No one knew Yenni was sick until the rot took hold.”
I think of Ilryth swimming with the other warriors. Of Sheel’s anger that Ilryth had personally gone on the defensive. “That’s why you go yourself, now, isn’t it? Even when Sheel doesn’t want you to, you go anyway.”
He nods.
“I’ll heal any others, too,” I offer without hesitation.
“They’re managed, for now.”
“But—”
“The best thing you can do is continue preparing yourself for the presentation to the court and the offering. If you can appease Lord Krokan and heal our seas, then the rot will end in our water and in the bodies of those afflicted. Our lands will be as fertile and as magical as they always were before his rage began,” he says with desperate optimism. He’s so determined, so hopeful.
But something doesn’t sit quite right with me—and it’s not because my life is the one on the line to bring about this new utopia… The more I learn about this place and its histories, the less everything seems to make sense.
“Shall we?” He interrupts my thoughts, presenting his back to me. I grab on to his shoulders and he launches off. I shift, settling on his back. But I can’t find a grip that’s comfortable.
I have no doubt that Ilryth believes every word of what he’s told me. I can see it in his eyes. But, for some reason, the words don’t ring true with me. I try and search my thoughts to find a reason why as I stare listlessly at our shadow blurring over the rooftops of the estate. In the end, I can find no explanation for my sense, so I say nothing.
We slow to a stop, hovering over the balcony to my room as the sun begins to set. I release him, but we don’t drift very far apart. His fingers trail lightly down my forearm. I almost think it’s by chance. But the touch lingers long enough that I doubt it is. I wonder if Lucia saw any of our traveling today. Or would it be the “practical touch” that is less of a concern for her? Whatever that means…
“I’ll come to you tomorrow and we’ll prepare for the trench in earnest,” he says, soft but firm. “We should move quickly, for the Duchy of Faith will come asking for you soon to take over the anointing.”
“What will they do to me?” I never relished the idea of being here. In fact, I outright resented it at first. But now the notion of leaving is as terrifying as it was when I first arrived. This is all I know of the Eversea and, more than that…Ilryth makes me feel safe here. With him around, I don’t have to worry.
He is not the monstrous siren I first thought him. Nor is he a coldhearted ruler that relishes cruelty. I stare out over his estate. At the sandy and kelp-covered hills, spilling down along an underwater mountain range toward the castle I can barely see as a shadow in the distance, encased in a haze of silver light. How much of this is his duchy? How much is his responsibility? How many more names of people suffering from the rot has he imprinted on his mind? I can almost feel their weight tugging on his every move. It’s what drove him to do something as grim as pulling a young woman from the ocean and telling her to sacrifice herself.
“They will anoint you as we have, but their castle is closer to the Eversea, so you will be able to commune directly with Lord Krokan, and be ready to do so. Things will move faster then and, when the summer solstice comes, you will be cast into the Abyss.” The words are little more than a caress.
