Ryla sighs and settles back down in a chair. ‘Well, don’t just stand there getting the floorboards wet. Get yourself cleaned up.’ Salvacion nods and lets a smile flicker on her face, heading into the other room to peel off her sodden layers. Biba is heedless to decorum, stripping off and mooning the fire.
‘You need a bath,’ I tell her, taking her by the hand to the bathroom for a scrub.
chapter sixty-six
hanan
The sky lights up,forks of lightning cutting through the grey. It illuminates everything at ghastly angles, bathing it all in a strange light. The Bastion is jagged and dilapidated, damaged by Adarna’s fall. Cracked flagstones where the bird pierced the ground. Debris scatters down the hill, obliterating parts of Umasa in its wake. Buried in the memories of my mistakes. Haunted by regret. I am poison, the ruination of everything I touch. I am running, Raina in her sling, back into the ruins of the Bastion. I use the shadows, hurrying around corners, avoiding the pockets of chaos I encounter. Survivors, embroiled in confusion or grief or anger. Seaguardians, nobles. None of them can be my ally. It’s only me and Raina now.
I make my way through the tunnels. Some of them have caved in, but our exit is only partially blocked by debris. The aqueduct is holding, for now. There is a huge crack along the side of the wall, and the stones push inward towards us. There’s only so much time that water pressure will be held back. I hurry into one of the boats and row through the aqueduct, feeling a strange sensation as I remember the last time I was here. I use the hydraulic screw to bring the boat to the ocean, and the sky is illuminated with lightning, like there are cracks in the clouds and they glitter. My skin tingles, and some force brings me up bodily, to my feet, and then into the air. I bring myarms around Raina, who cries out in alarm from her sling. I hover above the boat, waiting for the drop.
My breathing is ragged, and the sky fizzes with energy. I’m caught in the storm, watching the lightning crack in the distance. The thunder rolls in, its rumble coming from the distant waters. My body pulses with the sound, and it penetrates my eardrums so fully I wonder if I’ll ever hear again.
I’m high up enough that I can see not only Umasa but all of Paranish. I watch the Winter Isle, where the clouds are darkest. I try to turn my body in the air. I see strange figures in the distance, suspended in the air like me. Some are screaming, thrashing. Others laugh and dance, more in control of their bodies. What in Aistra is happening? Then lightning strikes the Tree of Life. I smell sea salt, blood, the burned wood. A web of light emanates from the scorched Tree, connecting each of the suspended figures. When it hits me, my chest constricts, and I can’t breathe. Something crushes my ribs, like squeezing my soul back into my body. The world falls out from under me, and I hurtle down, watching the ocean come towards me at full force. I shield Raina with my arms from the impact. The sky is full of screaming.
Something stops me within touching distance of the water. Energy flows into my body, like blood rushing to fill an open wound. My skin shimmers, full of potential. Every muscle throbs like I’m holding up the world. The force holding me up disappears, and I drop into the sea.
I tread water frantically, ignoring the shooting pain in my body. I try to keep as much of my torso out of the water as I can, the baby struggling for air. There is no one in the sky now. I grab the boat’s mooring line and bring it to me slowly, feeling the slick rope under my hands. I feel the dirt under my fingernails and the water teeming all around me.
A jolt shoots up my arm, and I flinch, bracing it against my chest. I open my palm, and a small, fragile strand of seagrass begins to emerge from the lines in my skin. It winds its way down my wrist, wrapping it. The pain that has stayed with me since the cavern slowly ebbs away. I feel my flesh knitting, coral creeping over my bones to reset them. The fatigue that has dogged my steps feels distant now, not gone but smaller. Everything has changed. I’ve returned to myself. Broken but mending.
I pull myself onto the boat and check Raina. She’s shimmering too, glowing with the incandescence dancing on my own skin. She burbles and reaches for me, freeing her arms from the sling. My dress is torn to bits and I move aside the fabric to bring her in contact with my skin. She latches on hungrily and feeds.
I marvel at my mending body, the slow resurrection of my power. I thought a binding was a permanent quelling of my ability, but the past few months have taught me that’s not true. Not only could I harness the power of others, but now I am coming back to my old self. Adarna’s death and the lightning striking my body has reawakened the magic in me. And not only me. I feel the energy of the others humming around me in the distance. Their confusion and curiosity. The gift used to show itself in its own time. But something changed when Adarna died. It meant to devour the world, but it opened it up. All those who were gifted have now been awakened, their potential fulfilled.
chapter sixty-seven
finlyr
A deep scratching atthe door jolts me awake. I hadn’t realised I’d fallen asleep in the armchair, and I have that horrible moment of not understanding where I am before I see Isagani in the chair next to me and feel deep relief. Narra gets up from her armchair, moving cautiously to the door.
‘Who goes there?’ she asks quietly.
A plaintive meow comes from the other side of the wood.
Ligaya cries out in relief. ‘It’s Sini.’
Narra cocks her head to one side, listening closely.
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask, rising from my chair.
Narra says nothing but opens the door a sliver. The skinny black otter-cat slinks into the inn, dripping wet. He creates puddles on the wooden floor and shakes his fur until it stands on end.
‘Looks like the storm’s arrived,’ Isagani says.
Sinigang pads into the room without a care in the world, leaving little wet paw prints in his wake. Narra chews her lip and watches as he brushes past her legs and into the parlour, beelining for the hearth. He tucks himself by the warm fire and begins to purr.
Isagani gets up from their chair and crouches by the otter-cat, making to pet him. He starts back, eyeing Isagani warily.
‘What’s wrong?’ they ask. ‘Is he hurt?’
‘I don’t know,’ Ligaya says cautiously.
‘Here,’ Isagani proffers the half of the biscuit left on their saucer.
Sinigang approaches warily and sniffs the thing. Then he snatches it from Isagani’s hand with his mouth and takes it back to the hearth, munching happily.
‘Where’s your sharp tongue?’ I ask him, bending to stroke him.
