Chapter 43 Grey, Black, Blue
GREY, BLACK, BLUE
LUELLA
Something moved beneath her.
Luella came to slowly, but when full consciousness hit her, she wished it had not.
Her cheek pressed against something rough, scraping her skin. Her arms were bound before her, something cutting into the flesh of her wrists. As she shifted, a sharp trail of fire lanced from her upper arm, down to her fingers, which were stiff and swollen. Aching.
Luella cracked open her eyelids. She squinted above her, seeing nothing but thick white clouds, interspersed with dark blots of incoming storm clouds, swiftly moving across the sky. The sun flashed by rarely. Was it daylight?
She grew dizzy the longer she stared, but she couldn’t seem to move her head.
Her lips parted as she drew in a ragged breath. It scraped against her chapped lips and knocked against her swollen tongue and parched throat. Another breath. And another.
Her lids drifted shut as she collected herself, and her lungs were nearly bursting with air; her body was one, incessant throb of aches and pain. A wetness tickled against her side, where she was pressed against that hard, unforgiving surface.
It was an effort not to fall back into blissful unawareness.
Maybe she could just…
Luella jerked, her neck twinging as her head lifted from the rough surface.
Her face was damp, water clinging to her lashes from how her cheek had been pressed against the… wood? Was it wood? Her fingers moved, fumbling to feel. She scratched her nail against the surface and felt the hard prick of a grain, pieces of splinters against the pads of her fingers.
It was wood.
The rocking motion of the wooden thing, the floating coffin, hit her all at once.
Her whole body locked up, sending pain down her spine and out through the crushed wings at her back.
She was on a boat.
A whimper escaped her. "No," she breathed, the sound like the dull blade of a knife scraping against stone. "No, no, no."
It all came rushing back to her.
Speaking with Tharen, getting through to him, the close of the curtain. Walking into the trees, the two Fallen, her struggle.
Her sluggish mind worked to sift through the memories. What had been the very last thing she saw?
It hit her, then.
The pommel of a dagger, crashing right for her head.
Then, nothing.
They had knocked her unconscious and dumped her in a boat?
Luella shifted, trying to sit up. Eventually, she was able to, but it was awkward. Each movement sent pain radiating out through her limbs. Her head pounded, her arm hurt, her fingers throbbed, and her back burned.
She leaned heavily against the side of the boat. She could barely lift her head. Though, when she did, she felt bile rise to the back of her throat at what she saw.
Nothing but water.
It wrapped around the tiny boat, which bobbed over the calm surface. Seagulls swooped low, cawing. She shook with fear. The wind increased, the white clouds were fast-moving, and harbingers of her storm approached.
The coarse rope wrapped around her wrists was tight, cutting off her circulation. Her gown stuck to her skin with sweat and… blood. Her breaths were ragged as she stared down at the dark blood crusted on her gown; the movement made her arm flare with pain. The lance of a blade, against her flesh.
One of the Fallen had cut her.
Luella twisted her head to see. No fresh blood, just dark red crusted around the inflamed skin of her upper arm.
It all fell into place.
Fury, the likes of which she had never felt before, gripped her with ferocious intensity.
The Fallen had hurt her, tied her up, and cast her out to sea because they’d been too cowardly to deal her death with their own hands.
"They’re going to regret this," she prayed. "And my Vincire will come for me," she sobbed. "They will."
Luella’s empty stomach grumbled as the hours went on. Her mouth was so dry. Why could it not rain? She would wish for nothing ever again.
The water around her was so, so tempting. Sparkling and blue. Her bound hands rested against the side of the boat, her cheek pressed against them as she stared dazedly at the surface, watching her reflection cast back to her.
Maybe just one sip?
Her fingers grazed the surface, and the salt immediately burned a scrape on her palm. She grimaced and yanked her hand away, droplets scattering across the ocean’s surface, sending ripples outward.
She stared up at the sky. The rain clouds chased away the pure, white puffs.
Her bound hands pressed against her breastbone. There, she felt the stirring of her power.
"Please. Please. Let it rain."
Rain did not come.
She had fallen back asleep.
Her dreams were a blessing and an escape from the sea-soaked horrors that surrounded her. The cut on her arm buzzed; the crusted blood was itchy against her flesh.
She licked her dry lips, unable to open her eyes as she awoke from her dream, hoping that this was the true nightmare she could escape from.
Tharen’s dream amulet was heavy around her neck, as was Vale’s charm bracelet around her wrist. She wished she could touch them both for comfort, but could not reach the bracelet with her bound hands, so she settled for rubbing her wrists over her thighs, feeling the roll of the chain against her forearm.
Everything in her called for rain. How desperate must she be for her magic to save her? It had come to her aid once. Why not once more, when now, she needed it more desperately than ever?
A distant rumble broke through the sky.
The sound was an answered prayer.
She didn’t open her eyes, scared to be let down.
Hope was a distant thing. A fraying thread.
When Luella felt sleep try to reclaim her, that was when she felt it.
A droplet against her cheek, sliding down to her jaw. She gasped, eyelids shooting open. The sky was dark with towers of clouds, grey and black, while the blue sky tucked behind them was a distant memory.
Luella smiled. "Rain."
The magic inside her answered, swelling and pressing against every part of her being, reaching outward and upward. And the sky broke free with her saving grace—rain.
A soft drizzle wet her cracked lips and clung to her lashes. The dried blood on her arm and gown turned deep scarlet, falling in rivulets to the wooden floor of the ship.
Luella all but fell back against the wood, mouth open as she drank each drop. A pleased, surreal laugh escaped her, and there, she lay, among the rain, among the sea, as the wind had calmed enough to not rock the boat or cause fierce waves—to keep her safe in her wooden cradle.