Crossing her arms over her chest, Chrys leans back on her heels, eyes narrowing as she studies me warily. “She’s upstairs,” she replies, a protective edge to her squeaky voice. “We were going to go to a concert in the city after my shift. Is something wrong?”
I don’t know where to begin to answer, so I only tap the side of the glass. Chrys obliges, pouring another measure of rum without taking her eyes from mine. I tip it back, wiping my mouth carelessly with the back of my hand before rising to my feet. “Don’t go anywhere, little pixie. I’ll need to talk to you as well.”
Turning to head upstairs, Chrys rushes around the bar to block my way. She throws her small hands on her hips and plants her feet, like she’s readying herself for whatever I’m going to request of her. And more importantly, of Marina. Chrys’ cares about Marina, a bone-deep compulsion that probably doesn’t entirely make sense to her given the lapses in her memory—lapses caused by Marina’s magic and its indelible cost.
“You’re acting weird, Niko. What’s going on?”
I brush past, careful not to touch her. “Just stay here. I need to talk to Marina first.”
I ascend the stairs in three large strides, Sam’s deep laugh filtering down from the floor above. When I reach the landing, it’s to find my friends curled into two armchairs beside the fire. Marina’s hands move in an animated fashion, as Sam tips his head back with another booming laugh.
Gripping the newel post, I sway in place, hesitation and guilt fusing into an iron lump in my stomach. But before I can turn and run, Sam notices my presence.
“What are you doing here so soon? Did you piss off Adirathatquickly?”
It might be a new record,Marina signs with a grin.
Sam’s power brushes against me, tendrils that feel like the soothing touch of a mother’s hand or the warmth of a soft blanket. I don’t know whether it’s selfishness or exhaustion, but I don’t wave it off like I did this morning, though I know what it costs him to use it—absorbing my hurt as his own.
I only know I felt so whole this morning, and now, every one of my nerves burn like they’ve been singed with acid. It’s almost inconceivable how quickly the relief had crumbled, leaving me gaping open and raw, little more than a festering wound. I curse myself inwardly once more for ever allowing the pain to slip from my grasp.
Sam’s calm runs over my skin like a cool wave, and for a brief moment, I stand still and allow myself to breathe in the small comfort. My acceptance only further alarms him, his eyes flaring and his lips pushing into a frown.
“What’s wrong?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” I huff obstinately, throwing myself down in the chair beside Marina’s.
Because this morning you looked human and now you look like…well,that,Marina replies, motioning vaguely to where my shirt's come untucked and my fingers spasm at my sides.Did Willa master her magic and kick your ass or something?
“You could at least pretend not to enjoy the idea quite so much,” I mumble, before nodding to Sam. “I could use a drink, Samuel, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
Sam doesn’t move. “Did you forget to order one on your way up here?”
“Sam.” The name sounds as more of a plea than an order.
His brows furrow as his eyes dart between Marina and me, but as his magic washes over me again, he must read something in my pain that has him rising to his feet. “I…uh—just remembered I promised Tiernan I’d help him with…with something. I’mgoing to head back to the Lunaedon.” He tips his head to Marina with a wink. “I expect a full report of your night with Chrys first thing in the morning.”
I shoot him a grateful look, as he turns and disappears down the stairs. The relief of his power recedes with him, and a tight breath shoots from my lungs as my death lashes around my wrists.
Are you going to tell me what in the second star is going on?Her signs are clipped and pointed, but when I meet Marina’s gaze, her eyes are full of worry.You’re acting weirder than usual. And that’s truly saying something.
“I need you.”
The words are simple enough, but she rears back like I’ve hit her square in the chest. And suddenly, I hate myself so furiously I think I’ll be sick with it. Hate that I must ask for her help when I know what it will cost. Hate that I can’t even be sorry for it, if it means saving the kingdom—saving Willa.
The thought races through me so suddenly, my breath freezes in my chest. Worrying about Willa is unacceptable. She is only a tool, a way to rescue my island. I cannot start seeing her as human, as someone to want—or worse, someone toneed.
Marina unfurls from the chair, planting both her small feet on the floor and bracing her hands on her knees like she’s readying herself for an attack. Because that’s exactly what it is.
Her power of invisibility is useful, but in the centuries she’s been with me, I’ve never asked her to use it, as its cost has always seemed too great: each time she fades into nothing, she becomes unseen to the person she cares about most.
Chrys. The female Marina has loved for years, in the spaces of time her power has allowed it. Each time Marina uses her magic, she’s forced to watch as Chrys forgets her entirely.
And not only am I asking her to give up Chrys, to endure the years of heartache as she watches her love move on with others—I’m asking her to go back to the Hollows. The caves beneath the island that were once home to all pixies, but now, are an abyss of depravity. The lair of the Strayed.
Marina makes one simple sign.Okay.
There is no question. No arguing. Just an acceptant loyalty I’ve never deserved.
