I push my sandy ropes of hair over my shoulder, working hard on keeping my gaze from straying to the Crow, who’s backed up to allow the Shabbin Queen through.
“I understand your heart hurts that Fallon’s left, but she said she’d return soon, emMoti.”
Cathal crosses his arms. “I believe a trip to Luce would settle her, Sumaca.”
Without taking her eyes off mine, she says, “No.”
A startled breath leaps out of me, eliciting a renewed bout of coughing. She didn’t even pause to consider the suggestion.
“She isn’t ready,” Priya says.
“I’ll keep her safe, if that’s what concerns you.” Cathal’s posture is as rigid as the post next to which he stands.
“She’s not yours to keep safe,” the queen growls, her pink gaze roving over his thigh. “For Mahananda’s sake, Cathal, she’s not yours anymore!”
Anymore?Did I once belong to the Crow? And if so, in what way, since he insisted, a great many times, that I wasn’t his daughter? Most importantly, though, why does no one believe I can keep myself safe? How wicked is the world beyond the Amkhuti?
I push myself to stand, done being kept down by all of them. “Ikeepmesafe.”
Cathal tilts his chin a little higher, as though proud how my impudent remark widens the women’s stares.
“Fallon nuptials.” I slip a finger under the ocean-hardened silk around my neck and dust off the sand digging into my skin. “I go.”
“Fallon’s nuptials? How did you hear of them? Let me guess…” Considering she looks straight at Cathal, Priya must have no trouble guessing. “Abi djhara, the vows Fallon will speak in front of the Lucins are only for show.”
I’m not certain what she means by that, but I remain steadfast. “I go, Taytah. Cathal take me.” I’m about to add that it’s part of our bargain, but decide not to divulge this in case it cancels the bargain.
The queen draws her gaze down his thigh. “Not in his state.”
“Thanks to Fallon’s blood, my state has improved. I thank you for your concern, though.” I frown because the queen didn’t sound concerned.
Lips pinched so hard their corners tremble, she extends her hand to help me up. “If anyone takes Daya to the lands where serpents are still slaughtered, it will be me.”
Though I still hold her hand, I teeter from how fast I spin my head toward Cathal.
“Did your Crowcompanionfail to mention how serpents are treated outside of Shabbe, Zendaya?” Behati sounds almost smug about her question.
Before I can ask Cathal if this is true, the queen brackets my head and pours images of gored scales, quartered flesh, and ripped tusks stacked in wooden chests. Water—tears bleed from my eyes and down my cheeks, carving into the salt and sand, eroding my desire to step out of this fortress of sunstone and blood magic.
I clasp Priya’s wrists and tug. And then I step back and back, away from her and everyone, wincing when my foot sinks onto a jagged coral. “Why Lorcan no stop slaughter?” I squint as black rivulets of my blood flow through the coral’s yellow folds.
“He has,” Cathal grits out. “Anyone who so much as harms a serpent with a weapon or magic is immediately punished. Anyone who kills them meets immediate death at our talons.”
“What happens if the Lucins go after Zendaya, Cathal?” the queen asks him.
“I’d kill them.”
“Of course you would.” Behati pops the bottom of her cane out of the sand and props it against a coral. “Crows so love beheading Faeries.”
He narrows his gaze on the Shabbin advisor, which leads me to think thatbeheadingmust be something truly evil. “So what’s your plan, Sumaca? Imprisoning Daya like you’ve imprisoned your daughter?”
My heart lurches, because…what? Priya imprisoned her daughter…Cathal’s mate? Why? And when? I thought her daughter was dead? Did she die in prison?
The queen’s shoulders sharpen as she twirls to face Cathal and growls something at him in Crow. The only word I make out is a name: Meriam.
The name that causes everyone to either hush or scowl. “Meriam is daughter, Taytah?”
Silence stretches and stretches in the chasm of Priya’s making, reverberating against every beached coral and ruffled stone shelf.
