Amelie’s smile is vicious, eyes fixated on the beach. She takes a step forward as if to join the mayhem, sidestepping Mr. Duveau’s revolver while his attention is drawn away.
“Stop!” one of our guards shouts, and Mr. Duveau whirls back around, stopping Amelie in her tracks. Some of the fight leaves her eyes as she seems to remember the very real threat before her. Slowly, she lifts her hands in surrender and takes a step back.
“Go!” Mr. Duveau calls above the din.
Vertigo seizes me as the boat lurches into motion. Amelie grabs my arm as we both struggle to keep our feet beneath us.
“Get away from each other,” Duveau orders, and we rush to separate.
With my legs somewhat stabilized against the motion, I return my attention to the beach, feeling my heart sink at how far away it already is. My eyes flash to the lighthouse, watching it shrink with every second.Aspen, please tell me you’re alive,I think to myself, not daring to use the Bond in case it distracts him from protecting his life. I squint, wishing I could see what was going on up there.
Something above the lighthouse snags my attention, a small, dark shape making lazy circles in the sky.
A raven.
Do I dare think…
Its circles spread out farther, over the beach, over the sea. Then the bird suddenly changes course, heading straight for us.
I suppress a smile.
Mr. Duveau flashes a glance over his shoulder, trying to glimpse what has me so amused. When he whirls back to me, he snaps his fingers with his free hand, eyes wild. “I’m getting tired of you girls not taking me seriously.”
I curl my lip in a mock pout. “Aww, you poor thing.”
He shakes his head with a smirk, then nods at the nearest guard. “Knife.”
The soldier lowers his rifle, exchanging it for an iron blade.
“Take one of her fingers,” Mr. Duveau says, tilting his head toward Amelie.
The blood leaves my face as the soldier lunges forward, grasping my sister’s wrist between his fingers. “No!” I shout.
“From this point on, she’ll lose one for every smart retort you make,” Duveau says. “And for every instance of even mild disobedience, I’ll have one of her toes. Until I have your full compliance, I’ll continue to carve up your sister until there’s nothing left.”
I should stand down, I should beg for Amelie’s safety, but my rage is so hot, flames return to my core, reforming the fiery orb. I can feel my skin growing hot, fire tickling my palms, begging for release.
The soldier lifts Amelie’s hand as she screams and struggles to pull away. Gone is that reckless girl who used Cobalt’s name to order him to kill, replaced with the sister I always swore to protect.
“Stop struggling, or he takes two,” Duveau says in a bored tone, thrusting the barrel of his gun at her to remind her just how many dangers there are. “And don’t worry. This will be very, very slow, considering we don’t have a proper chopping block.”
Amelie lets out a wail, tears streaming down her cheeks.
The soldier singles out Amelie’s forefinger and brings his blade toward it.
My eyes flash to the sky, to the dark shape hovering just overhead.
The orb of flame burns hotter at my core, and I begin to shape it with air, preparing to send it flying outward.
The soldier with the knife looks to Mr. Duveau, who nods. “Do it,” he says. The edge of the blade bites into her skin just as a dark shape drops into the boat, landing near the motor’s controls.
“Hey beautiful,” says a familiar voice.
Our guards whirl toward it, leaving Franco in full view, perched on the control panel in his seelie form. Two dark, smoky tendrils spiral from his fingers to the heads of the navigators, holding them immobilized while their mouths are open in silent screams. Shadows are leached from them, flowing into the prince.
Mr. Duveau starts forward, but Franco burns him with a scowl. “I wasn’t talking to you,” Franco says, then lifts his chin with a charming smile, eyes on me. “Hey there.”
“Fire!” Duveau shouts.
