I force myself to move. To swim down into the remnants of the hold. The slim, silver bars that had been so carefully stacked are strewn about, barely glinting in the darkness.
My family’s safety. Freedom. Future.
Each one I hastily shove into the bag Ilryth gave me is a number in my mind. A rough tally. But more is more. I keep grabbing, the bag bulging but not ripping, until a sharp note distracts me.
There’s a flash of light. A grunt. Movement in the darkness. I can feel the wraiths drawing near, clawing their way up from the depths. They cry and scream for us—for me—with a noise that sounds like the frantic singing of a funeral dirge.
It’s as I feared. As I knew. They blame me for their deaths and now they want their revenge. But I can’t give myself to them for it. There’s still more I must do.
I’m sorry, my heart says, even though none of them will hear.
“Ilryth, I have it!” I swim back out, the bag heavy on my shoulder. My siren is over the remnants of the bow of the boat. Two more wraiths surround him.
“Start swimming back!” he shouts.
“Wha—Ilryth!”
He tips down beneath my field of vision. I try and swim over as fast as I can. But, weighted by the bag, he’s already coming back up.
“Start swimming, Victoria!”
I do as I’m told. I’ve become so accustomed to being the one in control, the one calling the shots, that falling into the role of support is uncomfortable. It feels like stepping back into shoes I wore as a girl that no longer fit. But, because of my time as a captain, I also understand it’s important to trust the person who has the expertise and knowledge in perilous situations. Sometimes, even the best leaders must follow.
A deep voice fills the seas. I look over my shoulder. Ilryth is death in the water. Wielding a shining spear, he impales wraiths as they descend upon him, exploding them into nothing but a shimmering current. Some of them I recognize. But the majority I do not. My eyes struggle to keep up with the chaos.
Ilryth is skilled in battle. Every movement is trained and graceful. His combat instincts are as honed as mine are to the wind and tides. But he’s just one man.
A wraith reaches for him, grabbing his arm. Ilryth does not so much as let out a cry, but I can see pain flash across his face.
I move to call out to him. It draws a wraith’s attention. The specter locks eyes with me. Charles’s voice fills my ears:Ring the bell, Lizzie.
I open my mouth but there is no sound. There are no words, no song. I’m back in that dark bell room during those early weeks that I haven’t thought of in years. I thought I gave up this memory…sacrificed it to the words of the old gods. How did the wraith find it within me?
Another wraith swipes for Ilryth, landing a hit on his chest. It hardly registers, even though I’m staring right at him.
Ring. The. Bell. Lizzie, Charles snarls from across time, trying to distract me from the present.
“Victoria!” My name in Ilryth’s voice is what brings me from the wraith’s trance. The wraiths are pressing into the glob of light around Ilryth. The strength of his spear is wavering.
I am not Lizzie. I am Victoria. And I am no longer in Charles’s control. I have not been for years and I will not allow these wraiths to dredge up my horrors and use them against me.
My eyes dip closed. I think back to our practice and feel Ilryth’s phantom grip as he holds me around my middle. As he sings into the crook of my neck and shoulder, teaching me down in his amphitheater.
The quiet stillness. The calm. The peace I somehow found in these mysterious songs.
Be gone, my heart demands,be gone, shadows and shades of the past. I am no longer yours. That is what my song says in words of my own, layered around the hymns of the old ones. I am louder than the hissing, growling, or screeching of the wraiths.
As my song reaches its peak, light bursts forth from Ilryth’s staff. This is different from any power he’s used so far. It’s brighter, stronger, warmer. It expands out much farther than the previous bubble of protection he drew—so far that it crashes against the rocks and wreckage.
The noise of the wraiths is silenced as they burst into stardust that briefly collects in faint outlines of men and women, who almost immediately disappear with soft sighs. I feel every one of them on my heart. Their pain. Their pleasure. It is as though they each pass through me with palpable strikes on parts of me that should not even be able to be seen. Parts of my very soul.
Slowly, the light fades. The outlines of the undersea carnage of the Gray Passage are nothing more than hazy glows left behind whenever I blink my eyes. But the light is not entirely gone. It clings to me. It is within me…it is…them.
Thank you, I hear in the back of my mind. The words are little more than a butterfly’s wings. Brief and fleeting. Gone the moment you feel it. But…it almost sounded like Jivre.
I stare at my hands and the faint, silvery aura that surrounds me as Ilryth swims over. He glows as well. Every marking across his strong body is shining and illuminated, as silver as mine. Even though I know the wraiths landed strikes on him, he doesn’t show any signs of the battle. It’s as though it never happened.
“What have I done?”What have I become?
