Zara and Dorian pay me no heed.
“It’s time for you to pay for murdering my sister,” Zara says. “It’s time for your body to feed the sea, for your blood to be tasted by the waters my sister belonged to.”
Dorian says nothing, but his expression flashes with something like remorse. I can almost see the guilt written over his face.
Zara must see it too, but to her, it must look like weakness. She takes her chance and lunges for him, clawed fingers swiping across his chest. He leaps back, but her fingertips make contact, opening the front of his jacket in long, crossways gashes. I don’t wait to see if blood wells between the rips. I crouch the rest of the way down, wrapping my fingers around the dagger hilt. Zara darts for Dorian again. He evades the next swipe, and I take my chance to charge at her back. Just as the sea glass tip of the blade closes in at the back of her neck, she whirls around and knocks my hand to the side with the fist she keeps closed around the Chariot. The dagger clatters to the floor. With her other hand, she swipes her claws at me. I feel pain lash my shoulder, but it’s cut short. Zara lurches back as Dorian hooks an arm around her waist. She turns her attack on Dorian, slicing a claw at his wounded neck. I hear him bite back a cry. My heart leaps into my throat as I see her clawed fingers latch into his shoulder, digging through his jacket into the flesh below. I scramble toward the blade again, but just as I’m about to reach it, a bright light obscures my vision. Squinting over my shoulder, I see Zara has opened the compact.
She’s about to use the Chariot.
And she still has her claws in Dorian.
I remember how Zara grabbed my arm before she kidnapped me with the device, and how Nimue made me hold onto her when she returned me to Cape Vega. The Chariot requires physical contact to transport another person.
I know exactly where she plans to take him.
Half blind, my fingers grapple against the floor as I seek the dagger. A sharp pain lashes my finger, and I’ve never been so grateful for a wound. Because it tells me I’ve found the blade. I feel along the sea glass until I reach the hilt, then grip it tight in my hand. Whirling toward the source of the ever-growing light, I run for the hazy shape of Zara. A sharp rap sounds behind me, like claws scraping glass. Then comes the sound of my name. I don’t need to look to know it’s Podaxis at the window.
Good.
He’s witnessed the attack.
He can take care of Dorian.
I run the rest of the way to Zara, feeling for scales. She tries to fling me away, but I sink the blade into her scaly flesh. With a grunt, she surges backward and I wrap my arms around her.
The next thing I know, water fills my lungs.
39
The light of the Chariot goes out, leaving me blinking into dark seawater. Zara’s face is a mask of rage before me. I look around but there’s no sign of Dorian.
My plan must have worked then. My attack forced her to release her hold on him. Instead, she transported me to his watery grave.
She wraps a hand around my throat and I feel claws sink into my neck. I scramble to find the hilt of the dagger, but my hands come up empty. My vision darkens at the edges, and part of me wants to give in. To stop fighting. Stop trying to hold my breath and combat the water that threatens to drown me. But my battle isn’t over. I remember what Nimue said about the Chariot. It can only be used twice before it must be charged by starlight. Assuming Zara hasn’t already used it today, it still has one more use. She can transport herself back to the room and end Dorian there.
My lungs burn as I shove my hand in Zara’s face. With the other, I reach for the side of my head, finding my shell comb tangled at the ends of my hair. I tear it free. With all my waning strength, I rake the teeth down Zara’s forearm, from her inner elbow to her wrist. Not the one that ends in a hand wrapped around my neck. The one holding the Chariot. With a hiss, she shoves me hard in the chest, making me gasp out the remainder of my air. I don’t see Zara anymore as I remain suspended alone in the water, my mind reeling as I try to recall how to swim in this form. I kick my legs, but my skirts are too heavy, their weight dragging me down. Down.
I tighten my fingers into fists, but they’re too numb to feel what they hold. If they hold anything at all anymore.
My vision darkens further. Almost black now. Still, I kick. Kick again. Struggle futilely against my skirts. Then I rail at a pair of arms that encircle my waist, their grip hard and punishing. But they don’t drag me to my death.
Instead, they pull me to air.
My head breaches the surface and I take in gasping breaths of it. My throat burns as I cough up water. The arms continue to wrap around me, tugging me, and I’m too weak to fight them, too weak to do anything but allow my rescuer to swim me to shore.
I feel my feet meet rocks, but I can’t gain purchase. The arms continue to drag me on. Once we’re free of the water, those same arms shove me away, sending me sprawling onto my knees. I collapse on my side and see Zara marching toward me, a dark silhouette beneath the night sky. Every muscle screams in protest as I scramble away. I try to rise to my feet, but my legs won’t obey. They’re too numb. I push back as far as I can and settle onto my knees, my hands tucked into the folds of my sodden skirt, seeking some semblance of warmth. Zara pursues me. As she draws near, the moonlight illuminates her face, the rage in her eyes. Behind her, I see the hulking black shape of a familiar bluff. We’re at Cape Vega.
Hands on her hips, she stops just before me, lips curled in a snarl. “I wish I could kill you!” she shouts. “I wish I could just let you die!”
I frown. My lips try to form words, but my teeth chatter too hard. This is worse than when I rescued Dorian. But—same as then—I know I’ll recover. Even without my sealskin, I’m a selkie. A creature of the sea. Water is my element. It may be able to drown me, but it can give me strength too. Not that I feel anything close to strong right now. Finally, I manage to move my lips. “Why…don’t you…then?”
“Nimue would never forgive me for killing you,” she mutters. Her glare is sharp enough to cut. Blood drips down the scales on her forearm, revealing the depth of the wound I inflicted there. Unfortunately, she too is a creature of the sea. Water strengthens her. Already, there’s no sign of where I stabbed her before she transported me with the Chariot. “Stealing your kill, she will forgive. But taking your life? Not her precious little daughter.”
“That’s why you saved me just now?” I say, my voice raspy. “You think I actually matter to her?”
She rolls her eyes. “You do matter, although I can’t fathom why. She chose you over me. Dorian was supposed to bemyrevenge, but she wanted to use his failed assassination as an opportunity to claim you. To be the mother she’s always wanted to be.”
“She’s no mother to me.”
