Chapter 56
Isolde growls and pushes herself to her feet, dragging her sleeve across the blood streaming down her face.
A boulder bursts through the waves and sails across the deck toward Isolde. She grunts and throws out a palm, blasting air at the earth. It crests over the ship and plummets into the sea on the other side.
Kressa stalks forward, her hand flexing on the short blade at her side. My breath catches as I study the familiar etching climbing across the hilt. It’s my blade.
Our gazes catch, and a muscle feathers in her jaw as she pins her focus on Isolde. “Let her go.”
“Kressa, no.” Fresh, hot tears stream down my face, and I shake my head. She shouldn’t be here—shouldn’t be risking her life for someone who lied to and betrayed her.
“How convenient that you showed up,” Isolde says, slinking closer. She tilts her head, and the impending dawn casts a golden glow over her hair. “What tipped you off that we had Briar? Perhaps the forged note that was left behind? Saying that she had escaped and was heading north?”
My heart races in my throat. It’s a trap.
Isolde knew Kressa would come for me.
The smile on Isolde’s face deepens—grows feral. But Kressa doesn’t so much as miss a step as her boots slam against the wooden planks.
But I catch the way her fingers tremble on the dagger.
“I’ve scoured the earth for her once,” she snarls. “I’d do it again. And again. I wouldn’t rest until I found her.”
Sea spray shoots over the deck, covering the wood in a layer of shimmering mist. The first dregs of dawn stretch over the horizon, and a warmth clings to the breeze.
“And I didn’t rest until I got both of you here, alone,” Isolde says.
She lifts a hand and stretches out her palm. A pit widens in my stomach as the waves around the ship churn at her call. My power shifts within me, then billows out of my body—stretching toward her.
She’s siphoning my power.
Isolde throws her hand across her body, and a wave crashes over the deck. It slams into my side, and I swallow a mouthful of water as it crests over my head. It clears a heartbeat later, and I sputter, searching for Kressa.
She’s nowhere to be seen.
My heart trips over itself, and I throw myself against the chains—letting them dig deeper into my skin as I twist my head. Isolde threw her overboard, and with my power at her fingertips, it would only take half a thought to drown her.
“Don’t hurt her!” I scream, baring my teeth at Isolde.
She throws a hand in my direction and pulls the air from my lungs. My legs thrash, and my eyes go wide as my mouth gapes open, searching for oxygen. I reach for my throat, but the chains keep my arms tethered into place.
Black clouds the edges of my vision, and pressure settles on my chest—squeezing my head.
I wheeze in a breath, and air fills my lungs.
“Don’t hurt her?” Isolde whispers, low and heavy. “Oh, Briar, I have no intention of killing her. No, she’s far too useful for that.”
A deep-rooted fear settles in the space behind my sternum. She can wield my power just as seamlessly as her own, pulling it from my core.
The air shifts, and a boulder slams into the deck directly in front of Isolde, missing her by inches. I gasp, and Kressa balances on the thin railing, clinging to a rope as water drips from the tips of her hair.
She leaps onto the deck. As her feet meet the ground, she winds back her arm and throws the blade. It somersaults through the air, and Isolde flicks her hand.
The blade clatters to the ground.
A lump forms in my throat, and a blast of air slams into Kressa, forcing her onto her stomach. She grimaces, trying to push her hands against the floor, but it’s no use.
I jerk against my chains, knowing they won’t budge. But sitting here helplessly, watching as Isolde tosses Kressa around my ship, is more pain than I can bear.
Isolde steps toward her, flexing out her fingers. Kressa grasps at her throat, and her mouth opens wide as her legs kick—her body begging for air.
A roar pierces the sky, and a shadow flies over the deck. The crimson wyvern sweeps through the sails, the tips of its taloned wings barely missing the edges of the mast. It banks back over itself and opens its maw, its slitted eyes narrowed on Isolde.
It must have sensed me in need, but I stiffen. If it blasts a stream of fire at my ship, I could burn along with it.
The creature blinks and beats its wings—climbing toward the sky. My breath catches. Whatever connection I have with the wyvern isn’t affected by the rhodium.
Heir to the Fire Court.
Isolde’s words haunt my thoughts, but I brush them to the side.
Kressa wheezes, doubling over on herself, and I watch as the wyvern becomes a pinprick in the heavens. From this far, I can barely make out the crimson of its wings or the serrated end of its tail.
That same faded vision crests over my view—as if I’m seeing the world from its eyes.
And within the space of a heartbeat, I command it to attack.
It roars and folds its wings in on itself, plummeting toward the earth. A cold sweat breaks out over the back of my neck, and my drenched clothes cling to my skin.
Isolde jerks her head upward, and as the wyvern comes closer, she coats the sea in a dense layer of fog.
“Kressa, run!” I scream.
But I can’t see her—can’t make out anything beyond the tip of my boots. Even the connection I have with the wyvern is hazy.
There’s a shout, then the sound of metal on metal. But I can’t discern who it came from, or whether it was in pain or anger. I scan the fog, my movements frantic, and a shadow comes into view.
Kressa’s hair whips around her shoulders as she blocks an attack from Isolde.
A thin layer of ice coats the deck, and Kressa slips, slamming onto the floor.
The wyvern roars in the sky above—a frantic, helpless cry. Isolde bends over Kressa and drives a blade into her shoulder.
“No!” I scream.
A deep red coats the deck. The ship rocks in the waves, and Kressa’s blood makes its way to me—soaking into the leg of my pants.
She shifts, bracing herself up on her elbow, but Isolde flicks her wrist and shoots a gust of air at her.
Kressa slides along the deck toward me, and her back slams into the mast at my side.
“Kressa,” I cry, inching my fingers closer to her.
A groan comes from between her lips, and the ice disappears from underneath her limp body.
Isolde strides closer, eyes pinned to the space between Kressa’s shoulder blades.
I bare my teeth at Isolde. “When we first met, I went into the castle with every intention to kill you. And now I wish I had.”
She crouches and slips the blade of her dagger beneath my chin, pressing the sharp edge into skin. “Interesting, considering how many times you said you’d die without me.”
My stomach clenches, and she nods at someone behind me. Metal chains tap together, bouncing over the wood, and a man appears in my periphery, chaining Kressa to the other side of the mast.
“I’ll do whatever you want,” I say, tears thickening my voice. “Please, just don’t hurt her.”
Isolde huffs out a laugh—the fog clouding her body as she stands to her full height. A swallow works its way down my throat. This isn’t the woman who held my heart for a decade. She isn’t the one who took my hand and promised me we’d live in peace together one day.
This is the Queen of the Sky that was feared among those in her own court. The one who my mother warned me about.
“No.” She looks at me down the bridge of her nose. “From now on, whatever I want from you, I’ll take.”
My breath stutters, and she turns her back to me, disappearing into the thick fog. Her voice carries across the deck as she shouts orders, but I can’t make out the words beyond the ringing in my ears.
“Kressa?” I whisper, shifting my arms.
She doesn’t answer.
The chains strain as I reach an arm behind me, searching for a hint of her warmth. My fingertips brush over the fabric of her pants.
“Briar,” she breathes.
Her fingers find mine, and I let out a low whimper as they tangle together. The metal digs into my wrists, but the pain dulls compared to the warmth sweeping over me.
I cling to her touch, memorizing the way my hand fits in hers. “How’d you find me?”
“I woke up in a cold sweat, and I couldn’t feel you.
Like you were too far from me.” There’s a shakiness to her voice, like it hurts to breathe.
“I went to the dungeon, and when you weren’t there, I panicked.
Then I found the note that Isolde had forged from you.
It gave me these exact coordinates, and the wyvern brought me here. ”
I tilt my head toward the sky and scan the abyss for the creature, but the fog is too dense to make out anything past the shadow of the mast overhead. Wherever it is, I can’t feel it.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t know who to trust.”
“We both had our fair share of lies.” Her fingers tighten around mine.
My heart pinches. “We’ve never been fully honest with each other, have we?”
I’ve lied to her from the beginning. About who I was, what she meant to me. I’ve covered it up in a weak attempt at protecting myself, when all it did was pry us apart.
“If there’s anything I know to be certain,” she says, “it’s that I’ve loved you from my first breath. You were always meant to be mine, and I was always meant to be yours.”
Tears cling to the edges of my vision, and I turn my head, pressing my temple to the mast. In my periphery, I can just make out the arch of her nose—the curve of her jawline.
I can’t imagine a life without her in it. As if she’s been there from the beginning.
“A truth for a truth?” I say.
Another squeeze of my fingers. “I’ll never lie to you again, my love.”
My chest shudders, and I pull in a deep breath through my nose. “Your father, is he—”
“Succumbed to poison.”
There’s not a hint of grief in her tone, but the words sting all the same.
I chew on the inside of my cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“The advisors had an emergency meeting, and I knew something was wrong when Gemma didn’t show up. I’m to be crowned queen in a few hours.”
Her voice trails off, and the fog comes alive with a warm, golden glow from the sunrise. I can’t bear myself to ask what happens if she doesn’t make it back in time.
“I was never going to let them hurt you,” she says. “If it came time for your execution, I had plans to hide you in Amoren. I should have told you that.” She blows out a breath. “I should have told you everything.”
I press my tongue into my cheek. “What about why I always needed the rhodium and you didn’t? Why you were so adamant about your father not knowing about your fire power?”
There’s a long pause, then, “I was trying to protect you.”
“So, it’s true? I’m the heir?”
“Yes.”
Something within me shifts, splinters. As if the very center of my being is thrown off-course. “Everything about my life and where I came from has been a lie.”
She shakes her head. “Just because you’re the rightful heir of the Fire Court doesn’t change your past. It doesn’t change who you are.”
The space behind my eyes burns, and I swallow down the hot tears. So that’s why my mother promised me to Elias—she wanted to break the bond between Kressa and me just as fervently as those in prior generations have. She abandoned her—our—court to make that deal with Terra.
I stare down at my shackled hand. Once as familiar as the blood in my veins, my power now is a foreign presence. Something stolen. Who am I, if not from the sea?
“There’s something else you should know,” Kressa whispers, straining her neck to meet my eyes. “Your crew, they—”
A shout rings out, rattling the air. I tighten my grip on Kressa, refusing to let go as the ship teeters.
The fog dissipates, and my breath catches in my throat.
Sunlight blinds my eyes, but beyond the railing, a ship sails in the distance—far away enough to barely be a speck the horizon.
But I’d know that flag anywhere. The roiling waves.
The Sea Court crest.