I tilt my head. “And why is that?” I ask innocently, as she shifts beneath my narrowed gaze.
She lifts her chin, familiar obstinance in the set of her mouth. Obstinance spurred by her inclination of justice—of always needing to be in the moral right. She never learned thereisno right. There is only making the best of terrible choices.
“I won’t open the wards and let you start another war. If Somnya—” She shrinks under the heat of my glare, and clears her throat. “—ifLetum—is at peace with a Darling at the anchor, you should leave it be.”
I bristle as her eyes wander over me in pitying assessment—over my body that’s filled out to its full strength; to skin that’s darkened beneath the rays of the mainland sun; to eyes colored a clear cerulean. The handsome attributes I was born with, the ones I spent centuries grieving, are now only a source of sorrow—a constant reminder that there exist pieces of myself Willa hasn’t touched; pieces she doesn’tknow.
I always thought their return would make me feel more human, but instead, it has left me feeling more alone than ever.
Wendy misreads my sudden angst, and her face goes soft. “You should make a lifehere, Nik. You should forget the land of dreams.” She hesitates, before slowly reaching out to caress my jaw with the tips of her fingers. “Somnya has only ever brought you pain. You should let it go.”
I flinch violently, snatching her wrist and throwing it back into her lap. I feel the echo of her fingers on my skin and I want to carve it out. I have touched no one since Willa, and for a wildmoment, I consider slitting Wendy’s throat for assuming she had any right to be the first.
“How is it that you spent years with the Aeternalis and still knownothingof pain?” I snarl, drawing a dagger from inside my coat.
Spinning it in my palm, I lean forward menacingly. “You have never had the mind for dreams the rest of your family does. It has only ever been the concrete that makes sense to you, Wen, so let me make this abundantly clear…Youwillopen the wards, or all the years you’ve spent keeping yourself alive will be in vain as I willendyou. Slowly. Painfully. Until my death sings and you can remember nothing but how to beg for its relief.”
Wendy’s eyes shine with fear as they flicker down to where I’ve begun to run the flat of my blade along her thigh, ever so lightly. She swallows audibly.
“I’m a gentleman, so I’ll give you the choice. Open the wards or die.” I lift the dagger to her exposed throat with a dark laugh. “A pity you didn’t inherit your cousin’s magic nor her immortality. You’re smart enough to realize there’s nothing else that can save you from me. Death always steals what it wants.”
Wendy’s eyes water, and her lower lip begins to tremble as I press the tip of my weapon to her skin. I think I’ve got her—that she’ll throw herself at my feet—when she yelps, “She isn’t!”
I raise a brow, mild curiosity momentarily staying my hand. “She isn’twhat?”
Wendy gulps down air frantically, tears spilling over her cheeks. The sight of them would have once latched beneath my ribs, urged me to do anything to stop them. Now, I feel nothing but vague disgust at her weakness. How hadn’t I seen it all those years ago? How hadn’t I known that my heart is death but hers is hope, destined to be swallowed by the smallest bit of darkness?
Wendy sucks in her lower lip, gazing up at me in terror.
“She isn’twhat,Wendy?” I bark so loudly, her body nearly jerks off the sofa.
“Willa isn’t entirely immortal. She can be killed, just as you killed the Everlasting.”
Chapter seven
I’ve just curled up in Niko’s bed, my body aching and my throat dry from sobbing, when light flares through the Lunaedon windows. Violent and hot, it sears my eyes and disorients my senses—so bright it almosthurts.
Throwing an arm over my eyes, I lurch out of bed. Silk sheets tangle around my ankles, sending me tumbling face first to the floor as I scramble toward the windows. My magic yanks at my heart, a painful tug that feels like it will crack my very chest.
And then the light recedes as quickly as it came, dousing the room in darkness once more.
The dark is nearly as disorienting as the light. I climb to my feet, heart beating wildly somewhere near my throat. My eyes water, blinking rapidly until Letum filters back into view. The waters of the lagoon are calm, reflecting the deep indigos and violets of the swirling sky above. The city lights of Caelum wink quietly against the night, quiet and settled—all of it the antithesis of what’s begun to howl inside me.
I grip my chest, digging my fingers into my sternum in an attempt to soothe the shadows now slithering between my ribs. They lay dormant in my grief, but now…now they areawake.They are fury and vengeance, fire and blood.
And though everything appears to be at peace in the kingdom, itfeelslike it’s at war. The tether between my heart and Letum’s is pulled so taut, for a wild moment, I’m certain it will snap and send the shadows sprawling out through the wound.
The second star shines as steadily as it always has, and I wonder if I’ve imagined the whole thing. Just like in the Hollows, perhaps it is simply the result of overusing my magic before it has come to maturation. The feeling in my chest, the light—it had all felt like it had when Pan arrived.
Was that the wards opening again? Or was it something far worse?
I’ve been anchored to the island for almost a year, but there is still so much I don’t know. Suddenly, I hate Niko with a fierceness that sends more shadows thrashing behind my sternum. He was supposed to be here. He was supposed to help me learn how to anchor the island, how to be a good leader. But he’s not. And as much as I hate him for it, it pales to how much I hate myself.
Turning abruptly, I shove the shadows and the grief and the anger down into the pit of my stomach, where I burn it on a pyre kindled by survival. I’ve never had the luxury of wallowing, and I certainly don’t now.
My kingdom is under threat, which meansIam under threat. I need to find out what caused the disruption and why.
I yank on a pair of boots and buckle my gladius around my waist. Then, I squeeze my eyes shut and paint the odd blue light of the Crocodile. I outline the rhythmic tick of the water, fill it in with odd shades of time, before pushing the shimmering magic outside of myself.
