A communal submarinetransports Isolde and me from Poseidon’s Wharf to Kratos Prison. It jolts as it arrives at the underwater unloading dock deep beneath the waves of the Starless Sea. An eerie silence follows the engine’s shutdown. A metallic taste coats my tongue as reality settles in. In a few minutes, I’ll be face-to-face with my uncle. I’m done with him trying to control me.
Besides Isolde and me, the five other passengers unbuckle their seatbelts in resounding clicks. The captain’s voice crackles through the intercom, announcing our arrival in a tone as cold and detached as our metal surroundings. Isolde adjusts her hat, which hides her cobalt hair.
As I study her, she brushes her fingers against the brim of her hat. Though I was annoyed with Wilder for assigning his gorgeous ex to guard me, I admire her take-no-shit attitude. She’s fiercely independent. I once thought she was selfish for cheating on Wilder, but spending time with her has shown me otherwise. She’s been there for me this past week in ways no one else has, and I am grateful for her help and discretion.
“You ready?” she asks me.
I nod. “Let’s get this over with.”
We both appear as civilians as we enter the prison. I’m disguised in a red wig, an artfully styled headscarf, sunglasses,and heels. We sign fake aliases on the visitors’ log. A guard eyes me, and I quickly look away. My disguise feels like a flimsy shield against the press, but I refuse to risk ending up as front-page news two days in a row.
“Visiting center is this way,” another guard calls. The group shuffles toward him. “But before we go, may I remind each of you that the people you are about to see may be your family and friends, but they are also convicted felons. Make smart choices.”
After a murmur of agreement, we walk through the alloy lobby toward the visitors’ center. Bubbles form outside the thick windows.
When the visitors make a left, following the guards, Isolde and I turn right, aiming toward Warden Grey’s office. He’s granted me fifteen minutes of unchaperoned time with my uncle.
I plan to get Don to admit that he’s been supplying Stellan with information about the Council and me. Then I will go to the capitol with the name of his accomplice so I can end Stellan’s crusade and obtain the Council’s support in presenting Alden with a peace treaty instead of a marriage. But as we draw nearer to the warden’s office, doubt creeps in like an oceanic fog. Can I trust Don to tell the truth? Can I trust the Council to listen?
“This is it,” Isolde announces. She flashes her badge to the men stationed outside Warden Grey’s door, and they let us inside.
Warden Grey’s office is enormous, with floor-to-ceiling windows peering into the inky blackness beyond the sea floor. Occasionally, a fish or two swims by, their bioluminescent bodies creating neon, fleeting patterns in the darkness. The room has polished surfaces and sharp angles, as cold and unforgiving as the warden. I’m curious what Bennett’s grandfather must have been like before his son and daughter-in-law died. He’d been kind to me over the years, but after mylast visit here to meet Moran Dunn, any warmth between us got snuffed out like sunlight trying to penetrate the miles between the ocean floor and the surface. I can’t say I miss it.
“This place gives me the creeps,” Isolde says, her face practically pressed against the thick glass. “It’s unnatural not to see the sun.”
I nod. The lack of natural light must cause a Solar Witch discomfort. She adjusts her borrowed blazer with both hands, which does a poor job hiding her weapons.
“Is there a reason you are studying me like a book?” she asks without turning around.
I laugh. The girl has eyes on the back of her head.
“How many times have you been here?” I ask.
When she faces me, Isolde’s lips spread into a thoughtful, straight line. “Maybe twice? Most of the guards are Sea Witches, not Blades. The Blades who work here do so voluntarily. What about you? You handled the submarine ride like a champ.”
I settle into Warden Grey’s leather seat. It dwarfs me, and the hinges groan as I lean back.
“Once with Wilder,” I answer.
Isolde’s attention fixes on me. “To see Moran?”
I nod. “How long did you and Wilder date? And no, this isn’t his new girlfriend sizing up his old one. I am genuinely curious. I know you could break me like a toothpick.”
Isolde is beautiful, and it sounds like Wilder genuinely loved her. Did she not feel the same way? As someone struggling to admit my feelings, I want to understand hers.
Isolde laughs. It’s a rare sound. “Nine months. In the last year of Blade training.”
I raise a brow. Who was Wilder when he was with her? They seem better matched than we are. “What happened?”
“I am a female Nebula Blade. I had a lot to prove,” Isolde replies. “The Nebula Solar Witches in my family aren’t fighters.They don’t strive for much at all. Still, I wanted to make something of myself after my Emergence, so I enrolled at the Blade Academy and got good scores, but I worried it wasn’t enough. I worried thatIwasn’t enough. What would happen to me after graduation if I didn’t get any job offers? I loved Wilder, but Soter had connections, and I thought I could use them to my advantage.
“At first, I only intended to befriend him, but Soter can be charming when he wants to be, and Wilder drifted away the closer we got to graduation. He had been worried about having to work for his dad. I knew my behavior was wrong and should have been there for him. I’ve been trying to atone for it since.”
She hangs her head, and I say, “What you did was wrong, but it doesn’t define you.”
The door opens with a hydraulic hiss, yanking my attention. Don enters the room with two armed guards. A gasp lodges in my throat.
He looks the same, but different. The suave man I loved and looked up to all my life was gone, and in his place is a man as harsh as his true nature. They’ve shaved his hair close to his scalp, and thick facial hair covers his cheeks and jaw. But his eyes are the same. Sapphire, same as Fynn.
