“Yes!”
“Okay. Hold on!”
He manages to place both arms around my waist.
Nothing happens.
The castle gets closer and closer, and my thundering heart pounds faster and faster and—
“Will!” I yell, but his eyes are narrowed in focus.
The wind beats us with every passing second.
“WILL.”
I’m going to throw up.
“WILL!”
Seconds away from smashing into a castle turret, Will’s arms tighten. We shift sideways, like stumbling through a door, and slow. Whatever he did knocks us off-kilter, toppling us not toward a stony death, but toward the lake beyond. The push of magic is strong enough that Will is blown from my arms and I scream for him, falling, falling, then—
I strike the surface of the water and plummet into watery darkness.
It’s a fight—a silent, heavy struggle—to get my limbs moving. I wrestle against the weight of the water as it tries to drag me deeper, down into the depths. Every movement aches,burns.I kick my feet and something brushes against me—a plant, a fish, something worse, I don’t know. Under the surface of the lake, I open my mouth and shriek.
Water heaves into my lungs and has me writhing in a frenzy. Pain becomes poison under my skin, a searing blister, ripping at every sense. Oh my gods. I can’t breathe. I can’t see.I can’t—I can’t—I can’t breathe.My legs lash out and propel me up. I strive for the surface, toward the glistening sun beyond that watery ceiling. Just a little more. Just one more kick.
I break through and choke. Every spluttering cough is a sword in my lungs as they protest against the fresh air. Eyes stinging, I tread water and comb the surroundings for any sign of Will. I’m a fair distance from shore. The closest bank is to the west of the castle, which leads to the training yard and gatehouse, but he’s not made it there yet, he’s not—
“Fliss!”
I turn and there Will is, swimming for me.He’s okay. He’s alive.He reaches me and pushes back my hair, checking every inch of my face.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asks, his own hair plastered to his cheeks and dripping. “I’m sorry. It was all I could think to do. I couldn’t—Are you okay?”
I respond by hacking up more water.
My legs are so tired.
But Will’s here and he’s alive and we didn’t die.
He starts to swim backward, helping me stay afloat too, and after an age of agonizing paddling, we scrape ourselves over the bank. I’ve never been so happy to lie in the mud and weeds. When we collected the Feiyan and Will asked me if I was afraid of heights, I said I didn’t know. Well, it seems I have the answer now.
Once fully on the shore, Will collapses onto his back and stares up at the sky, completely drained, his arms limp by his sides. I heave myself forward on my elbows and finish coughing up the remaining lake water from my lungs.
“Let’s not try that again,” he wheezes.
I make a weary grunt of agreement. It’s all I can manage. There’s a rustle to my left, but I’m too tired to check what it could be.
“Over here!” Ava calls, and Will groans, rolling onto his shoulder.
“Give us a bloody break,” he breathes. He pushes himself upright and lifts his palms up for peace.
Nettle and Ava approach us at a jog in full wedding attire—Ava in a cropped navy suit, a white myrtle flower pinned in her front pocket and sword scabbard around her hips, and Nettle in a short one-shoulder jumpsuit that matches the exact shade of Ava’s turquoise tie. In one hand, Nettle carries her high heels, and in the other, her trusty knife. As I raise my head, she throws the knife with a spin so it lands, point down, just before Will’s knee.
“Don’t move,” she snaps, and Will shrugs.
Ava hoists me out of the mud.
