Then, the ribbons rise into the air as one, flapping and hovering over Niko like a swarm of dark butterflies. They are beautifully lethal in the starlight, seeming to pull every bit of color from the world around them into their fathomless depths. With one last great shudder, they drop to the ground beside me in a limp pile and go still. Like they’re waiting.
I blink at the silky pile for a few long moments, hardly daring to believe I’ve not onlyspokento death itself but convinced it to help me. An icy wind whistles along the beach, jolting me from my awe to the present task. I pick through the rotted corpses of the Strayed, quickly searching the sand for supplies. I find my sword, along with an assortment of knives I stash in the pockets of my cloak, and a canteen of water I hang around my neck.
Then, I wedge my hands beneath Niko’s arms and begin the work of hauling him up the beach.
The wind whistles across the lagoon once more, pelting my face with sand and freezing the sopping fabric of my dress against my legs. Goosebumps having nothing to do with the cold rise on my arms as I remember Sam’s words about the meddling wind. If it somehow tells Dawson and the rest of the Strayed about Niko’s condition, we’re both done for.
The king’s ribbons slither a few paces behind us in a tangle as I wrestle with his unconscious form, trying and failing to work faster. Though he appears thin, he’s impossibly tall, every long bit of him carved in lean muscle. Moving him even a few feet is grueling work, and I quickly realize we’re never going to make it back to the carriage.
I drop Niko back to the ground, bracing my hands on my knees in an effort to catch my breath and focus my thoughts. Glancing around the lagoon miserably, I find no shelter. Sharply cragged rocks surround both the beach and the water in a protective halo, all so steep that none appear to be climbable. Even if they were, there’s no way in hell I could manage to drag Niko up one of them.
The wind howls through the forest, and though its song doesn’t settle in my bones like the siren’s had, it is no less chilling. Branches and leaves rustle in the canopy, the restless sound echoing my own restless thoughts, as I scan the dark spaces between the trees. The tiny lights wink and flicker, andthough some float along on the sharp wind, none leave the cover of the wood. I’d thought them beautiful observers before, but after the events of the evening, their silence no longer feels comforting. It feels ominous.
What if I take Niko into the trees only for those lights to somehow give away our location to the Strayed? What if the wind has already spread word of the king’s downfall? What if I stand here so long trapped by indecision, that another of my conjured nightmares attacks?
Hopelessness begins to press down against my shoulders. Refusing to grant it purchase, I straighten and shrug it off with pointed determination. I take a sharp breath, and with newfound resolve, look to the ribbons.
“Where do I go?” I ask. “Help me hide him.”
They shiver excitedly in response, and slowly begin to unravel from their tangled mass. One slithers steadily over the sand, its silky length pointing me toward the north side of the beach.
With a strained grunt, I haul Niko back into my arms, following the ribbon dubiously. I still don’t know if they can understand me, but I hope they at least understand the danger their master is in. More join me, swirling at my feet. Though they don’t touch me, their presence serves as encouragement as my breath begins to saw uncomfortably fast in my chest.
Both of us are slick with sea spray and gritty with sand, but I don’t dare stop for a break. Somewhere in the shadows is the maniacal glint of Dawson’s eyes. The depraved smile carved in his face.
The thought has me adjusting my grip on Niko and working faster. His mouth has gone slack, his arms dangling heavily at his sides, but his heartbeat is steady enough as I drag him across the sand. My arms, back and legs all burn, but I keep moving, spurred on by the eager swirl of his death ribbons around me and by muttering things like, “Heavy fucking bastard,” and“Move, you useless asshole,” repeatedly. Cursing at Niko doesn’t make him any lighter, but it keeps me from focusing on my exhaustion.
When we reach the face of the tallest rock spire, I stare up at it in confusion. The ribbons swirl around my feet, urging me forward until I realize they don’t mean to lead me up, butaround.Into the lagoon itself.
Panting, I squint out at the dark water uncertainly. It’s once again so still it could be made of glass, but I remember what the swirling abyss beneath the surface holds. I’d barely made it out the first time; how am I going to do it with an unconscious man in my arms?
The ribbons shudder and jerk, clearly agitated I’ve stopped.
With a disbelieving sigh, I tug Niko into the surf. If it’s a choice between drowning and the Strayed—I’ll take my chances with drowning. Perhaps the sirens will take mercy on us both after bringing their sister home.
The waves lap gently against the black rock in a hypnotic rhythm as I wade in up to my waist. The cold temperature steals my breath as I struggle to keep Niko’s face above the surface.
After a moment, the icy shock gives way to an aching numbness, and because Niko’s weight is lightened by the water, I’m able to follow the path of the ribbons far faster than I had on the beach. To my relief, they don’t lead me into the center of the starry lagoon. They keep close to the edge of the spires, their silky form nearly invisible against the dark rock. Only the devouring lack of starlight on their silky lengths keeps me from losing them entirely as they circle around the base of a cragged outcropping.
My feet slip against the silty bottom of the lagoon, nearly submerging both myself and the king. Regaining my footing, I round the towering spire and nearly cry out in relief at what I find.
Niko’s ribbons have led me to a cave. Perfectly hidden by the shadows of the lagoon itself, perhaps only visible at all at low tide.
“I could kiss you!” I tell the ribbons, no longer caring how ridiculous it is to be talking to strips of death. “This is perfect.”
They vibrate in what I take to be a pleased manner, before unfurling further into the mouth of the cave. The water slaps against the black rock, slicking the rock with brine. My toes are entirely numb as I brace my feet on the edge and haul Niko upward with a slew of fresh curse words. Panting, I drag him out of the water inch by inch, dumping him unceremoniously onto the ground to catch my breath.
Niko’s ribbons slide over his cheeks and flutter along his throat, their worry at his condition clear. It heightens my own, giving rise to the panic I’d shoved down to the recesses of myself in order to make it this far. But now, trapped in a strange cave in a strange world, it threatens to flood through me like an icy deluge.
Taking a shaky breath, I turn away from the lagoon. The cave ceiling and walls are lit by the same bioluminescent moss that lives on the trees of the forest, the magical light casting everything in shimmering shades of blue. Moths flutter through the damp air, their patterned wings glowing an iridescent white in the darkness.
The ribbons dart into the air, streaming up a small path that winds along one of the walls. They curve deeper into the bowels of the cave before disappearing behind a bend. Only one lingers, curling wildly above my head in indication I should keep going.
We’ll be safer further inside, but if the tide rises, we’ll be trapped for god knows how long.
The thought sends a wave of acid barreling up my throat and pooling in my mouth. The idea of being confined, of being ensnared with no way out, makes my skin feel too tight for mybones. I glance down at Niko, as the tendons of his neck pull taut once more; so tight, I fear they may snap. Spittle beads at the corners of his mouth, and his head jerks as another spasm wracks his body.
I don’t know what’s wrong—how he’s hurt or how to fix it—but whatever it is, it happened because he came to save me. I’ve always been alone in my survival. I’ve been acutely aware since I was a child there was no one coming to my rescue. But Niko came for me, and it means something; something that softens the edges of my hatred, even as I wish it didn’t.
