Chapter 56
Diara took me riding on palace mounts every afternoon when she finished her chores. We wandered the paths and fields on the northeast side of the palace, through the trees and vines. I returned to my room at night, dusty and sore, hoofbeats echoing in my ears.
For six weeks, I met with Selena for books and training only long enough each day to avoid breaching my contract.
A full moon came and went, though the summer night was overcast, trapping its beams under thick clouds for two days. Unable to bathe in its light, I grew ill with fever—something Selena called moon deprivation. An ailment newly-transitioned Naiads suffered when they failed to absorb the beams sent down from the full moon. She’d promised I would outgrow it soon. Luckily, the sky was clear on the third night of Mihauna, and strength returned to my muscles as I spent the night on my balcony, soaking in its silver rays.
I continued to practice water calling and mapping throughout my day, even if it was only to stir the ice in my drink or to catch notes of boiling soup from the kitchen. But I’d mastered my grasp over small amounts of water, and though I didn’t stop calling to the liquid in a passing horse trough or the rain puddles on my balcony, they began to challenge me less.
At night, I stole into Selena’s rooms to climb into the glass box. Sometimes I heard Thaan, Selena, and Cain sleeping through the walls. Sometimes, they were gone, doing who knew what in the dark hours.
I still hadn’t decided what to make of the relationship between Selena and Thaan. There was no doubt in my mind Selena disliked him. But so did I, and my own loyalty was sealed.
I wondered if my mentor had noticed me pulling away. Or if she’d done the same after our last conversation.
Never speak of this to me again.
I’d been alone in the glass box for several hours. Light began to streak through the window, the call of my bed across the sky bridge and up a distant tower whispering in my ear. I’d avoided sleep as much as I could these past few weeks. If I didn’t wear myself out by water calling, I’d end up staring at the ceiling, my mind adrift in my own thoughts. Or worse—a certain fire would trickle in from the corners of my bed, licking my skin with a scent sweet and familiar, building and consuming until I rolled under my blankets in delicious agony, my breath hard and fast, my hand between my legs, a pair of golden eyes branded into my memory.
I wouldn’t have to deal with it tonight. I’d stayed extra late, and exhaustion hovered as I relaxed in the water, determined to call to it one last time before I turned in.
Tail tucked underneath me, my eyes gently closed, I willed the water from the glass box around me, feeling it follow my lead in liquid ribbons through the air. I wove it in strands, this way and that, testing its weight against my force, its obedience against my command. I lifted more and more and more, until I realized there was nothing left to lift. The entirety of the glass box floated under the ceiling.
I opened my eyes, and realized I was floating along with it.
A yelp of surprise caught in my throat, and I lost my hold, dropping through the air. Water cushioned my fall, though it sloshed against the walls of my glass box, spilling over the sides and across the floor. My hair lank and in my eyes, I wiped my face with my palm, scrambling to call the water back in.
Footsteps came from the other side of Thaan’s door, slowly heading toward me, and suddenly I didn’t care about the mess I’d made. I clambered over the glass, darting toward my clothes, but I’d only managed to pull my white chemise over myself before his door opened.
His icy eyes flickered over the walls and the floor before settling coldly on mine.
Aware that the simple dress I wore was transparent against my wet skin, I crossed my arms and waited. “What?”
“There’s been an attack in Winterlight.”
Whatever I’d expected, it hadn’t been that.
My heart stopped.
My mouth fell open, my hand wrapped the base of my neck, and I gaped at Thaan. He met my eyes with a look of suffering patience. “I’ve been tasked with the duty of informing you, though we have other matters to discuss. You’ve been ignoring the rules of our contract—”
“What happened?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” he droned, his voice laced with rare irritation. “You and Selena seemed to be getting along fine, then you married and—”
“What happened in Winterlight?” I cut in. “What did you do?”
Thaan paused, angling his body so he could study me before he stepped in close. Though he was the picture of collection, a thin scent dragged from him to my senses. Heated metal.
“That will be the last time you interrupt me,” he said, barely louder than a whisper. “Fourteen days ago, a band of Rivean men discovered where the sentries in Winterlight were hidden. They killed off the watchmen and sent fifty riders into camp, where they attacked the men who were still sleeping in their tents. Seventy dead was the first estimate. Now the count is around two hundred. When the Calder army discovered what had happened and mounted to fight, Rivea pulled out, leading Calder into the mountains. They released boulders down the ravine after their own horses had passed through to safety, trapping Calder, and then flanked them from behind.”
I took a step away from him, my breath too shallow for my lungs. Eyes narrow, he continued, his gaze fixed on the growing horror written across my face.
“Archers rained down on Calder’s army as they fought their way out. Early reports are that we lost a quarter of our men. The lead bowmen, and seven of twelve commanders.”
Silence filled the corridor as he studied me. My pulse thundered in my head. The world threatened to tilt sideways, to throw me from my feet. The whoosh of my blood echoed.
“Is he alive?”
Thaan stared.
I straightened, lifting my chin as the severity of his words settled in my stomach. Suddenly desperate to escape, I reached for my folded dress. He clutched at my hand, fingers curling hard over mine.
My foot stretched ahead, already inclined to evade him. But he pressed me into the wall. His eyes drank me in, stretching slowly up the flare of my hip, following the arc of my ribcage. Thin fingers grazed the tip of my shoulder, smoothing the damp fabric, and glided down my arm.
I stilled at his sudden proximity. Unsure what he wanted, I flexed my hands and looked away, gathering a deep breath.
Thaan didn’t neglect the opportunity to make me uneasy. He trailed cold fingers in the opposite direction, across the depression of my chest and up my throat, lifting my chin to face him. He leered at me, and I could smell him—a choking scent, damp and cloying. Familiar from my old life in Leihani, though I struggled to place it among my memories.
He brought his nose inches above mine, so close I could see the small chips lining the ridges of in his teeth, the finite cracks in his dry lips, flakes and patches of red along the membrane’s edge.
He waited, though I had no idea what for. I tried pulling gently away from his grasp, but his fingers clamped down on the sides of my jaw.
“You’ve been invited to join the royal family at Cynthus Castle,” he said. “Two weeks from now. You, and one friend. A lady in waiting. You will take Selena.”
I bared my teeth at him, though when I spoke, my words came out smooth as velvet. “I’ve done some reading. Did you realize that even with your lordship, as a princess, I outrank you?”
Thaan didn’t move.
I stretched onto my toes, my words dripping with anger. “I’ll take who I please.”
His fingers bit into my skin, holding me in place. “Before you leave for Cynthus, I must be sure you understand the risks. Do you know what happens to Naiads who abandon their blood vows?”
Red veins lined his irises like gossamer webbing, translucent and deep, slowly carving out the icy blue surrounding his pupil, leaving only white chambers behind.
“Naiads do desert their masters, little creature. I need not lie. If such a venture interests you, you may try it for yourself. You may forsake your own blood to escape your debts. But…” He leaned closer, and I couldn’t help but stare into his eyes, his pupils like deep and endless tunnels collapsing into themselves.
Whatever it was that stared back was inhuman. It didn”t feel alive. His eyes were twin crypts, dark and wasted. Cold tremors surged down my neck, spilling into my blood, congealing and hardening. I tried to pull away, but my arms wouldn’t respond. I was frozen, eyes wide as his gaze bore into mine.
“When I am near, near enough to rouse your spiculae, I need only call to your blood. The blood you have pledged to me, which runs hot in your veins. I’ll call to you, and you will come, on feet that won’t still until you stand before me, for weeks or months or years, however long I choose. I need only say the words, and you will be rendered incapable of anything other than obedience. I can delve into your mind. I can overtake your senses. Your eyes will be my eyes, your ears will be my ears. Your body will be mine to control. Perhaps Selena has not reached that part in your training? Such a Naiad would be called an Oculos. A spy for a Videre.”
The scent of him filled me, constricting my throat. I held my breath.
Rotting trees. That”s the smell I recognized.
Decaying wood. A natural scent in the palm jungles. Comforting to find in the wild, proof that everything living eventually returns to the soil, giving birth to the next generation.
His odor held none of the promises of connection to the world. It was only the decadent scent of decomposition, putrid and spoiled. An old log left to molder and shrivel, infested by rot, crumbling from the outside in.
“And know this. When I am far, and out of sight, I still own your blood. It belongs to me, as does the rest of you. It will turn on you, should you try to escape me. It will betray you if you betray your own vows. Blood will be all you see. It will boil in your veins, burning into your organs, melting you alive. Your skin will slough and separate, your hair will detach from your scalp. Your ears and eyes will fall away. Muscles and tendons liquify. The oceans, the trees, the sky will turn red, and your last breath will choke on your own traitorous blood.
“You will be nothing more than the foam the ocean leaves in its wake, sinking into sand and shell. You will not die, you will cease, and the pain will not leave you even as you walk the land of Perpetuum.”
My hands curled, nails piercing my palms. Thaan released me with a shove and turned to go—but I struck, grasping his arm and whirling him around. Surprise fractured his icy gaze as he took me in.
Teeth clenched, shoulders back, I glared up at him through my lashes. “When I become queen,” I said, peeling my lips back in a feral sneer, “You will be the first person I order to die.”
His eyes crinkled, crow’s feet suddenly deep as his face curved into his smile, though he’d never looked at me more coldly.
“We’ll see.”