Chapter 16
“What’s taking her so long?” I pace the living room as Julian sits on the loveseat, his feet popped up on the low table. “She said she would be here at nightfall, and we still have to go to the dungeon before we can even consider sneaking to the harbor.”
He shrugs. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason for why she’s late.”
An uneasiness washes over me. “What if she’s changed her mind?”
“She hasn’t.”
I pause behind the loveseat and brace my hands against the back, lifting a brow at Julian. “What if you take me to the dungeon?”
“Not happening.”
Groaning, I push off the loveseat and stand in front of the windows, studying the curve in the valley. Late last night, after I finished my dinner, Kressa locked the door to my bedroom. But even when she unlocked it this morning, she was already out the front door before I could get out of bed.
“You have your gloves?” Julian says.
“Of course I have my gloves,” I snap.
He looks at me and raises his brows. “No need to have an attitude.”
“Look. If she doesn’t walk through that door right now, then—”
The door swings open, and Kressa fills the space. She quirks her lip. “Then what, Briar?”
I press my lips into a thin line. “Will we still be able to get to the ship tonight, or did your lack of punctuality ruin our plan?”
A low chuckle rumbles from her throat, and Elias enters the room beside her, sweeping his gaze over Julian. Something fills the air between them, but it’s gone in a heartbeat.
“You don’t strike me as someone who worries about being late,” Kressa says, loosening the top button of her shirt. She turns and pulls a cloak from the hook beside the door.
“I do when it concerns my crew.”
Kressa strides closer and dips a finger beneath the hem of my gloves. “If you must know, I’m late because I was picking up extra pairs of gloves for them. But if you’d prefer I return them, that can be arranged.”
My eyes widen, and a shiver runs down my nape at the feel of her fingers against my skin. “You did?”
“They’ll have to earn them, of course. Prove that they won’t just pull them off and wield their power against me. I trust that you, their captain, are capable of such a thing?” Her gaze bores into me—a challenge.
I pull my hand away from her touch. “Of course I am.”
My words sound hollow, empty. Unconvincing. But it’s the best I can do for now. Anything to get them on the ship with me.
“Is it time yet?” I take a step away from Kressa and turn my attention to Elias. “Are you coming with us?”
He shakes his head. “As much as I’d love to get away from my father, someone has to remain here to keep the peace. And after everything that happened, he refuses to let me out of his sight for too long.”
Julian’s throat bobs on a swallow, and he stands, adjusting his collar. “There’s no time to waste. The ship is anchored far outside the harbor, waiting for us. We have to get there by daybreak.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Kressa lifts my rhodium cuffs from the table and holds them out. “In case we get stopped on the way to the dungeon.”
I sigh and pull my gloves off one finger at a time, shoving them into my pocket. The wounds around my wrists are still red and swollen, but the ache has been bearable without the metal biting into them.
The bond floods through my system, like a flame the moment a log catches fire. It flares through my veins, and I try to recall Nicole’s advice, tapping into a false happy memory, trying to hold it back. But I can’t.
Kressa grimaces, and without even having to knock on my mental door, she says, It’s getting stronger.
How long until the rhodium won’t be able to hold it back?
Our gazes meet, the heat blurring my vision at the edges. She sways on her feet, or it’s me, unable to maintain my balance. Either way, we’re tethered—suffering together.
Two weeks, if we’re lucky, she says, her thoughts weak.
She forces down a swallow and undoes the cuffs, slipping them over my hands. The reprieve is instant, and as the locks click into place, it’s as if a bucket of water has been poured over my head, snuffing out the flames.
“We have to figure out how to break it,” I whisper.
A weak nod. “I’m working on it.”
“Any luck?”
Her eyes lift, and—for perhaps the first time ever, there’s weakness. An uncertainty in the way her gaze shifts over mine, a shadow stirring within the gold flecks of her irises.
She shakes her head. “Beyond your execution, no.” Clearing her throat, she steps away and turns to her brother. “I trust you’ll keep things in check while I’m gone?”
Gemma’s face appears in the doorway, and she smiles as our gazes meet.
“I’m here to help,” she says. And as the last word leaves her mouth, her skin shifts, muscles morphing until I’m staring at an exact replica of myself. “In case Golan insists on seeing you.”
I lurch forward, shaking my head. “Absolutely not. If we don’t make it back in time, Golan might decide to execute me. I can’t let that happen to you. Not after everything that’s happened.”
“Elias is going to take care of her,” Kressa says, resting her hand on my shoulder. “He’ll do everything he can to push off anything that could hurt her, including the execution. If I questioned her safety, I wouldn’t allow it.”
“And if the execution continues on,” Gemma says, striding closer, “then I’ll remove my glamour.”
I gnaw on my lip and watch her expression. Her expressions are different than mine—her smile, the set of her eyes. Even the way she brushes a lock of hair behind her ear is different. But it’s not enough for Golan to question her identity.
“Are you sure?” I whisper.
Gemma presses a hand over her heart. “It would be an honor, Briar.”
“Okay.” I nod, more to convince myself than anyone else. “Then let’s go, before we risk getting caught.”
Kressa cups my elbow, leading me out of her quarters. I spare a final glance at Gemma, ignoring how unnerving it is to be looking at myself—a mirror of me.
We cross into the hallway, and Julian follows up the rear as we wind through the corridors. Sections of the castle are closed off from the wyvern attack—the stone and mortar in crumbles on the ground. But Kressa ducks us beneath the barricade, and we creep through abandoned sections.
“Have you decided who you’ll be bringing?” Kressa whispers as we approach the turn in the hall leading to the dungeon doors.
She pauses, then tilts her head at Julian. He weaves around us and goes ahead, speaking with the guards stationed at the doors.
I shake my head.
Her brows furrow. “You’re telling me that I’m about to sneak you into the heavily guarded dungeon, and you have no plan?”
I shoot her a glare. “I never said I didn’t have a plan.”
Julian reappears and wordlessly gestures us to follow.
Kressa jerks me close, her breath hot on my temple as she hisses, “Don’t make me regret this.”
We swing around the curve in the hallway, the door to the dungeon already hanging open. Our feet are silent as we cross into the pitch black space—so dark I can hardly make out my footsteps as we come to the first cell.
“Briar?” someone whispers.
“Turn on a light,” I say.
Behind me, a flame flares to life. Julian swings a lantern in his hand and strides down the aisle of cells, stopping in the center. He gives me an expectant look and raises his brow.
I inhale a breath through my nose, calming the nerves churning in my stomach. A few cells down, Katrina wraps her fingers around the rungs of her door, the white bandage around her hand stained with blood.
The others follow suit, creeping to the front of their cells, staring at me with wide eyes. Thea is the last one to appear—her eyes rimmed with red.
“I’m leaving on a ship tonight to go find Inez.
” My voice is steady despite the racing of my heart.
“And I am taking two of you with me. Over the last decade I’ve let many of you down—making choices by myself that were meant to be made as a group.
So right now, I’m asking you all to decide who goes with me.
Who we think would be best suited to search for our missing crew member. ”
Silence permeates the air. Out of my periphery, I catch Kressa folding her arms over her chest.
“Thea has to go,” Odette says, speaking up first. The others watch her, and she gnaws on her lip. “If you get close enough, she can transport herself to wherever Inez might be.”
“No.” Celia grits her teeth and shakes her head. “Thea just came back to us. We’re not letting her leave again.”
Leigh scoffs, shifting the red hair framing her face. “Us?”
“Excuse me?” Celia says.
Astrid narrows her eyes on Celia, her hair as blazing red as her twin’s. “Thea is an obvious choice. Just because you don’t want her to go, doesn’t mean she shouldn’t.”
“She nearly died last time she was alone with Briar,” Celia snaps.
“We all almost did,” Astrid bites back.
A sour taste fills my mouth. My intention wasn’t to spark a fight or have them argue, but show them how much I value their opinions. I shift on my feet as a bead of sweat rolls down my temple.
But I agree with Odette, Leigh, and Astrid.
Terra’s power runs through my veins, and when they became my crew and I granted the ten of them with a sliver of the power, it manifested in different ways.
Some stronger than others. Thea, with her ability to transport herself short distances.
The twins, Astrid and Leigh, the former able to contort shadows, and the latter, light.
Odette, with her sound manipulation, and Ivy—a master of persuasion.
So many abilities that could be of use.
Then there’s Celia. The only one who refused a gift of power—intent that her wit and might was enough to earn her a place on The Twelfth Night. She was right. I’ve never seen anyone wield a sword as deadly as her.
I sift through their abilities, and just as I’m about to say her name, Ivy does it for me.
“Elayne,” she says.
The argument about Thea drops, and everyone goes silent, weighing Ivy’s words.
Gazes swing to Elayne as she signs, “Why me?”