“Patamoi has carried a grudge against the Midnight fae since the Great War.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want you to lose hope in your plan.”
“Naivete and ignorance are not prerequisites for hope, Rydian.”
“No,” he said quietly, “You’re right. Now you know.”
I wasn’t sure that was true, but I left it alone. “What about his comments about Midnight allying with Summer? Was that true?”
“If it is, I didn’t know.”
“And Amanti’s life debt?” I asked.
“The story she told me is that Patamoi saved the life of one of the Aine at her behest. She owes him a debt.”
“Whose life?” I asked.
He shook his head. “That’s all I know.”
When he was gone, the silence stayed behind.
Outside the window, the city pulsed with light and movement, all of it framed by the dark weight of the river pressing down from above. For the first time since we’d entered the tunnel that led Beneath,I let myself feel the ache under my ribs—the mix of exhaustion and hope and the thin, sharp edge of fear that never quite left.
Patamoi’s words echoed in my head.The river follows its own tide.Maybe so. But tides changed. And I intended to make this one turn.
Chapter Seventeen
Aurelia
The guest suite was carved into the side of a coral bluff—rounded walls, a window like an eyeless lid that looked out over the glowing underwater streets. I sat on the edge of the bed and made a list in my head of what we needed and how little time we had to get it: passage upriver, a way into the camp, a way out again with Lesha alive. Every minute we spent here was another minute she remained in Heliconia’s hands. I could feel the clock ticking behind my ribs.
A knock sounded—four notes, rhythmic and light. Not a guard’s rap. I stood and palmed a conch shell displayed on the dressing table.
“Come,” I said.
The door opened without a sound.
Princess Naliadne stepped in.
Her dark blue hair rippled like water where it fell over one shoulder and hung to her waist. Iridescent scales glittered faintly along her temple and the line of her collarbones when she moved, catching the light the way fish did before they darted away. Her eyes were sea-deep and knowing. When shesmiled, it was with small, sharp teeth she didn’t bother to hide behind her full lips.
Three males trailed her, perfect and varied in a way that said she’d chosen them carefully: one tall and ash-blond with shoulders built for throwing spears; one with copper skin and a mouth made for trouble; the third dark-eyed and quiet, the kind who noticed every exit in a room. He reminded me of Rydian somehow.
They fanned out without being told—one at the door, one at the window, one setting a lacquered trunk on the low bench at the foot of the bed.
“Nali,” I said, genuine warmth filling my voice as she strode toward me.
Her smile lit the room. “Aurelia,” she said. Her voice was sultry and melodic—made for singing an unsuspecting fool closer to the water’s edge. “It’s been too long.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “It’s been at least a week,” I said, taking her offered hands in mine and letting her press an air-kiss along my cheek.
She spotted me setting the shell aside and gave me a knowing look.
“Beneath, we find that time stretches differently,” she said. “But need does not.” Her gaze flicked over my travel-worn clothes. “And you, I think, have need. Specifically for something to wear to dinner.”
“Among other things.” I looked at the trunk. “Is that a bribe or a gift?”
