Page 67 of She Who Was Once the Sea

"What is she talking about?" Garrett looked between me and the witch, brow furrowing.

Petra’s smile grew wider. "Oh, of course!" She looked positively delighted. "She couldn’t tell you, could she?"

Garrett’s eyes bored into mine as she spoke. And from the corner of my vision, I saw movement.

"I can’t seal you away forever without letting you know how close you came to another fate."

Across the room, I saw Ordina take a single step backwards, her eyes on something I couldn’t quite see.

Petra addressed Garrett as I slowly moved myself between them. "Your little friend here made a bargain with me. If she could make a member of the Fratelli—you, my boy—fall in love with her in a week, I would free her family from their curse."

Behind Petra, Ordina’s expression grew shocked for just a moment, her attention focused on movement somewhere else in the room.

My heart pounded relentlessly, heat boiling beneath my cheeks. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Garrett, but I felt his eyes on me as she continued talking.

"But she grew insolent. And so I upped the ante. If she failed—I got to keep you. And her family still wouldn't be free."

Garrett’s fingers tightened on my shoulders again.

"And after all of that," her face fell into a mocking frown, "you couldn’t even love her." She smiled again, voice dropping low. "Too bad."

She raised her hand in our direction. Instinctively, I shoved my way fully between them, ready to protect Garrett from whatever spell she was about to cast.

But it never hit us. From behind me, I heard a frustrated shout, and when I turned, I saw Lucas, still bleeding, clinging to the witch from behind and raising his knife above her throat.

He brought his hand down hard, and for a moment, I let myself hope that he would succeed.

The blade should have sunk into her throat.

But it didn't. Instead, the stone beneath it seemed to harden. The tip skittered across her skin, leaving little more than a pale scratch.

Petra smiled.

Lucas struck again, harder this time. Somehow, she looked stronger for it.

Finally, just as he reared back for a third blow, Petra gripped him by the hair with both hands, and flung him from her shoulders into the stone wall beside Ordina. He hit with a sickening crack, hard enough that several large stones dislodged from the wall and tumbled down onto his still form.

Ordina screamed as he fell, but I didn’t have time to see whether he was okay, because Garrett was suddenly running past me, knife drawn, taking advantage of Lucas’s distraction to throw himself onto the witch.

She rounded on him just in time to parry his first attempt. The knife caught her across the shoulder, splitting stone and exposing a thin line of pale flesh beneath. Petra's expression turned deadly, and her eyes narrowed on Garrett's knife. He followed her gaze with his own, and something in his expression hardened. He struck again, fury coating his features. But this time, the blade struck stone, as it had with Lucas.

Petra smiled again. But before she could move, I ran towards her as well. I didn’t have a knife, but I thought that the sheer hatred filling my bones would do.

It did not. She knocked me over like a leaf on the breeze, sending me sprawling backwards and into a wall as Garrett jumped once more into the fray. Desperation bled from every inch of his face as he stabbed and cut and slashed, but she blocked him each and every time. She looked almost bored.

Then, with one final, massive shove, she sent him flying backwards as well. He didn’t hit the ground as hard as Lucas, but the force rattled him enough that his legs wobbled as he tried to right himself.

I pushed upright, clutching what I was sure was a broken arm, and limped towards him.

And I almost made it. She gave us just enough time to meet each other’s gaze. Just enough time that I could see the apology written across his face. My fingers brushed the loose fabric of his robes—

Then she snapped her fingers.

And I watched as Garrett’s blue eyes glazed over into gray, watched as his full lips froze in the shape of words he’d never be able to say. For a few long, agonizing seconds, I stared at him. The only thing I could think was that I hated the expression plastered across his face. Garrett was too kind to be immortalized in fury.

The world moved so slowly that everything blurred around me. There was only Garrett—his frozen expression, his cold, stone skin, and my growing fury.

Then, all at once, the world snapped back into focus.