I swallow hard at the chilling realization.
She’s going to drown me.
“I’ll die,” I say, voice weak. My knees begin to give out, but Myrasa keeps me upright in her viselike grip.
“You’ll be one with me,” she says, her words strangled with tears. “I have to do this, Astrid. I need my magic or I’ll never be whole. I’ll never feel…”
A sickening sorrow plummets my heart. I know what she’s refusing to say. It all makes sense now. Myrasa is incapable of feeling love. Not for herself or others. Whether by choice or by the cruel design of her nature, I know not, but feeding off another’s love is the only way she can experience the emotion herself. The only way she can gain full strength. The only way to grow her body of water into a flourishing lake.
How different could things have been if she only knew how to love?
My throat constricts as tears spring to my eyes. Grief fills my blood, and my bones grow heavy with mourning. Mourning for my father. For the nameless man who sired me as well. Mourning for every life Myrasa has taken in her quest to feel love. And mourning for Myrasa herself. Because there’s no doubt in my mind…
My mother must die.
Her grip begins to slacken around my wrists, her body shaking with sobs. “Goodbye, Astrid.”
I feel myself sinking, my legs giving way as she continues to drain my energy, to feed off my agony, my fear, ounce by ounce. She releases one wrist, and I sink into the pond shoulder deep. I try to meet her eyes, try to do what I unknowingly did when I was a baby and deflect her magic by using her own reflection. But she keeps her gaze fixed firmly away from me.
With nothing left to do, I close my eyes and think of Torben. Father. The kittens. I think of strong arms and gentle touch. Of loving acceptance. Of smiles and laughter and all the things that ever made me feel loved. Warmth spreads through me, cutting through my fear. Mingling with my grief and mourning until it too becomes something sweeter. Something to be cherished.
Myrasa gasps, her body growing rigid at the sudden shift in emotions she’s feeding from.
But as she continues to feed, my heart grows warmer, my body reclaiming its strength inch by inch. Not by some new magic but by the endless well that is the love I have inside of me. The love that can never be fully drained or obliterated. It’s stronger than my fear. Stronger than Myrasa’s magic.
Just as Myrasa releases my other wrist, I surge to my feet on steady legs, my shoes gaining purchase on the muddy pond floor. With all my strength, I shove Myrasa in the chest. She falls backward, arms pinwheeling as she tumbles into the pond. With her momentarily down, I seek out Torben. He and Vartul are still locked in combat at the far end of the clearing, filling it with a cacophony of growls and snarls and sprays of blood.
Myrasa rises to her feet, blocking my view. She’s near the edge of the pond now, where the water is only knee deep. I reach for her, but the pull of her draining magic strikes me once more. My strength wavers, but I refocus on feelings of love. Warmth. Safety. I use all my remaining energy to barrel into her and push her the rest of the way out of the pond.
Her draining power cuts off.
If she can’t touch her pond, she can’t use her magic.
She chuckles as I haul myself off her and plant my feet in the mucky grass between her and the pond. “What are you going to do, daughter? You can’t fight me. I’m stronger than you. You can’t keep me out of my pond.”
I clench my fingers into fists. I know she’s right. Against her, I am just a half-human girl with no combat training. I don’t have the power to drain victims like she does. But I must try to defeat her. I must keep her from hurting anyone else.
Steeling my resolve, I march toward her and thrust out my hand, wrapping it around her throat. She doesn’t fight me. Doesn’t claw my hands or wriggle beneath my grasp. Instead, she holds her ground, hands loose at her sides and…laughs.
“You aren’t going to kill me, Astrid.”
I try to squeeze tighter, but the feel of her pulse fluttering against my palm sends my stomach roiling. She’s right. I…I can’t do this.
Water flows over my hand. My eyes go wide as I watch her face melt from flesh to rivulets of clear water. It’s the opposite of what happened when I first saw her emerge from the pond. Instead of turning from liquid to corporeal, she’s shifting back to water. To her unseelie form. I snatch my hand away, scrambling back as her watery shape slinks across the grass back toward the pond.
No! If she touches the pond again, she’ll have her magic.
And she won’t hesitate to kill me.
I try to kick at her, to block her progress toward the pond, but she simply flows around my feet, avoiding my touch. Inches separate Myrasa from her power, and there’s nothing I can do to stop her.
An animalistic wail of pain draws my eyes toward Torben and sends my heart climbing into my throat. Is he hurt? There’s no movement. No flurry of hooves and claws, only hulking shadows and blood. Then I see him. Torben, still in bear form, is on the ground with the kelpie pinned beneath his paws. Lowering his head, he snaps his teeth over the kelpie’s throat. A whinny pierces the air as Torben severs Vartul’s head from his neck. The kelpie goes still.
Torben starts toward me. Just then, something heavy strikes my midsection and lifts me off my feet. I fight against it only to realize my assailant is a thick vine. And it isn’t attacking me. Instead, it encircles my waist and sets me down several feet from the pond. The vine releases me and burrows into the earth. I’m about to rush back to the pond, back to where Myrasa continues to trickle toward her pond, when a familiar hand closes over my shoulder. I whirl around to find Torben now in seelie form.
“Wait,” he says, voice tense with warning.
“But Myrasa. If she touches the pond…” I turn back toward where I last saw her liquid shape only to find flames bursting at the water’s edge, inches from where I just stood. Inches from my mother’s unseelie form.
