CORIN WATCHED MALICINE and Talon cut through dense undergrowth to reach the center of the jungle. She kicked rough vines blocking the path, stomping wet ground in a silent scowl. She no longer believed in the sun’s warmth or the smell of clay wafting through trees. They were nostalgia steeped in lies, a web of fake memories spun by a princess who wanted to forget her own.
They reached the base of the waterfall, where Corin had first plunged before the tides swept her away. The water rippled calmly with no hint of the turmoil from earlier. Instead the stream burbled quietly, spitting on rocks with the same contained anger she had reserved for one person.
Briar sat on one of the boulders, her arms crossed around her knees, the bottom of her dress cascading in water so one couldn’t tell where fabric ended and liquid began. Stray sunflowers floated around her bare feet, wilting like her posture of grief. Corin tried to still herself, curling her fingers to fists at her side. She refused to shake in anger, even though she wanted to thrash the trees around them, yell at the chirping birds to quiet down, tear the peaceful scenery apart so they would stop pretending any of this was real. She wanted to destroy something beautiful, and the most beautiful thing was the girl in front of her.
Briar sensed their presence and looked up. Hopeful light shone in her widened eyes. She leapt off the boulder and wrapped her arms around Malicine.
“You made it,” she gasped, a sob of relief muffled in their chest.
“Barely. But we have a problem. I lost the amulet.”
Briar pulled away to examine Malicine, whose hands were empty without their staff. A faint worry etched her forehead. The silence made Corin’s stomach coil with guilt. It had been herfault that Malicine chased her into the island. She risked both their lives and lost the demon’s amulet in the process. Without the gem, Malicine could no longer open a portal. Their plan for stopping Prince Ezran and the godmothers from following their tracks would not work. Corin had no way of returning to Gyldan anymore, either.
A new, terrifying thought trickled to the back of her mind. Without Elly, there was no reason for Corin to return to Gyldan. She had nowhere to go. No reason to continue living.
“We will figure it out,” Briar reassured. “The important thing is that both of you made it back safe.”
The softness of her voice made Corin’s anger flare once again. How could this girl be so insistent on suppressing the guilt and pain? They could have died. Now they were trapped forever. She acted like things could easily go back to normal. Sunsets, afternoon tea, parties and pretty dresses. Trivial props to play pretend for the entirety of her sad existence.
Corin couldn’t bring herself to look at Briar, so she walked toward the waterfall. Her pants soaked from the stream as she jumped over the rocks. She stopped at the cascade, where beyond the white foam, her reflection stared back at her. Dark skin, cracked lips, bloodshot eyes. A broken person who could never be put back together.
“Are you all right, Corin?”
She watched Briar drawing nearer behind her. White foam blurred the princess’s expression, but Corin could already imagine the mock concern, the furrow of her brows, the bite of her lower lip.
“Malicine said that in the dreamworld, your subconscious thoughts come to life,” Corin said. “That means, if I want something, I can make it appear in my own hands.”
She reached inside the waterfall, feeling the cool river wash over her skin and drizzle between her empty fingers. They curled into a fist until something solid filled her palm like a block of ice. It was the same feeling she had when she first pulled out a sword in Winterland. She had wanted to protect Elly.
“I know what I want now.”
Now, she would protect herself.
Corin unsheathed the dagger from the water and leapt at Briar’s throat. The force knocked her over, and they were both on the ground, Corin’s knees locked around Briar’s waist, the makeshift weapon at her neck. Boulders rose to the sky, jagged slabs of rock surrounding them as walls to muffle Malicine’s yells from outside. The waterfall roared above their heads, drenching them both until Corin could feel her own skin against Briar’s between wet fabric. Corin breathed heavily, heart pounding against her chest, the violent urge to tear into Briar and expose every part of her.
The girl’s voice cut through the noise like a lacy embrace.
“It’s okay, Mal. Let her do it.”
Briar tilted her head back, exposing the soft blue veins that ran down her throat where Corin’s dagger touched. Corin could hear the flutter of breath, the swirl of emotions that rocked her body on top of Briar.
“You have that little regard for your life?” she hissed.
Her hand pressed the blade harder to Briar’s throat like a challenge. She could feel the princess suck in a breath and let it go, the slow rise and fall of her chest beneath her damp dress. She wanted to cut the girl open and demand answers from the wretched, beating heart that gave her foolish hope. Somewhere, between the crooks of Briar’s limbs and paths of her veins, Corin searched for the truth.
Yet when Briar replied, her voice carried a lightness. Like she could float away at any moment, even as Corin pinned her body to the ground.
“Why not? Death means no uncertainty. No pain. No sadness. Why, it’s almost like being in a dream.”
The shock of Briar’s calmness spread through Corin’s body. She didn’t know why it felt like she was the one being cut. She needed to patch the wound the only way she knew how: with rage. She wanted Briar to show she was afraid. That the girl wasn’t so resigned to toss away her life like it meant nothing.
Corin raised her weapon in the air and plunged it down.
The blade hit the rock beside Briar’s head with a hard crack. The dagger shattered like ice, and the waterfall split into opposite directions, a flood that rolled across stones and emptied the pool. Without water, the sleeves of Briar’s dress looked deflated, her hair slicked wet against her face, eyes closed and waiting. But Corin was still on her knees, staring at the flutter of her lashes, watching her cheeks gleam as a single drop of water hit her face.
Briar’s eyes fluttered open. Disbelief flickered across her face as she realized Corin was crying.
“I looked for you,” Corin whispered. “In the tunnels, in Gyldan—I looked for you.”
