We can’t let them get away.
Planting my feet firmly beneath me, I stand at his side and raise my arms. I open myself to love and grief, connecting to the element of water. With rage and fury, I connect to fire. My duty as queen to protect my people links me to earth. And my mind, piecing all of this together with precise thought, connects me to air.
Like Aspen, I thrust out my arms, giving strength to his wave, shaping it into something more. The water builds higher than ever before, then separates, reaching for the warship like two monstrous hands. Fire heats the metal hull of the ship, a crack forming at its center. Then, in tandem, Aspen and I curl our fingers into fists. The two waves mimic our motions, wrapping around opposite ends of the ship. With a final thrust downward, the waves snap the warship in two.
Lowering my hands, I watch as smoke barrels into the sky. Smaller waves continue to pummel the broken ship, forcing the two halves to drift apart. One begins to sink. Then the other.
Terror surges through me as I watch the shattered warship sink and become swallowed by the hungry waves. I shudder, shoulders trembling at the sight.
Aspen’s fingers brush against mine, and my racing pulse begins to calm. Together we watch the sea, watch the roiling waves toss and rage, all signs of the warship gone.
I take his hand fully in mine and lift my chin. We may have done an ugly thing, but it needed to be done. There may be dozens more, but this enemy warship won’t be coming back to take out the fae. My people. My home.
It’s one thing. One small, infinitesimal feat in a much larger war.
But we did it.
And we did it together.
34
We continue to watch the sea as the waves subside, satisfied in the wake of its meal, until footsteps sound behind us. I turn to find Amelie approaching. Behind her, Breeda flutters down from the cliffside.
Aspen shifts to face them as well, but his legs give out beneath him. Gasping, he falls to his knees, face contorted as he clenches his chest.
“Aspen!” I shout, lowering to his side.
“The iron,” he bites out, teeth bared.
My throat goes dry as my gaze falls on the black tendrils spiraling up his neck, his arms. If he wasn’t already weakened by the iron embedded in his wounds, he certainly is now. Any feat of magic is nearly impossible on this side of the wall. For him to do what he did…
To do whatwedid.
“What’s wrong?” Amelie asks, eyes wide.
“He’s taken several iron injuries.” My hands fly frantically over him, assessing what little I can through the grime and blood.
“You can help him,” she says, a flicker of hope weaving in between her furrowed brows.
“I need tools. I need…” My breath hitches as I recall the medical tent I spotted in the camp outside the lighthouse. I rise to my feet to intercept Breeda as she draws near. “Where are the others?” I ask her. I can no longer hear fighting anywhere, not just on the beach.
Her color is muted, her characteristic joy absent from her face. “Prince Franco and I went to warn the others that we lost the Chariot,” she says, her voice so much slower and weaker than usual.
The blood leaves my face. “Was anyone hurt?”
“There was hardly anyone who wasn’t hurt,” she says. “So much blood. So much…death.”
“Where are the others?” I ask again.
“Pursuing the retreating army. Franco joined the fight, and I came to you.”
“What about the camp?”
She shrugs. “It’s empty. Unless you count dead bodies.” Her color goes a shade paler. “I don’t suggest you count the bodies.”
I spin toward Amelie. “Help me. Please.”
She nods, then lowers to the other side of my mate. Aspen lets out a pained groan as we help him to his feet. We make our way across the beach and to the stone stairs. It’s slow going as Amelie and I help Aspen climb, but we eventually make it to the top, sweat soaked and gasping for breath.
