Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
We should use bones.
—Correspondence from Enya to Lelyth. Date preceding Sultiran Calendrical System.
Aquila’s talons thumped as they hit the rail of the ship. My neck ached as I stretched against Tiberius’s broad, velvety side. I blinked my eyes open against the darkness. A thick layer of clouds spread across the sky, shielding us from our moons’ light.
We lay at the stern, Tiberius with his legs tucked beneath him and a large black wing draped over me. He lifted his head at Aquila’s landing. The two of them stared at each other for several moments before movement from the quarterdeck caught my eye.
Can you speak to Aquila? Like you and I do?
Kind of. It’s somewhere between words and casting. It’s difficult to explain, but yes, I can communicate with him now.
I groaned as I gingerly sat up and rubbed my face. A dull, throbbing had begun behind my eyes. What happened?
You’ll find out, Tiberius’s large head bobbed as Nerissa prowled across the deck.
“Can I talk to her now?” she snapped at Tiberius. “Or are you still being an overprotective asshole?”
Tiberius snapped his front teeth at her as he pinned his ears. Tell Nerissa to go fuck herself.
What? For gods’ sakes…
I shook off Ti’s thick wing and stood. Nausea rushed upward as blood drained from my face, my vision swimming as I swayed. Nerissa’s hands caught my arms, and she swung me to the edge of the ship, where I emptied the contents of my stomach.
After several minutes of retching, I wiped my mouth on my shirt and turned toward Nerissa and waited, leaning against the rail. She handed me a waterskin. Black circles lined her green eyes.
“You,” she began, pausing as she scanned my face, “had a bit of an incident.”
I raised my eyebrows. “An incident?”
Nerissa swallowed before frowning, “I’m not sure how to explain it, other than your powers sort of… exploded out of you. Tiberius got you above Vienah’s cloud cover, which would have been fine except it wasn’t just the Obscura that you released.”
Vienah… I sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the water witch and her influence on the weather.
It was dark last night, but not so dark that a huge display of power would have been missed by ships within hawk sight.
The dark clouds would have camouflaged the darkness perfectly in the night sky, but that glowing Transcindiel power… and what they were doing together…
I threw a wary glance at Nerissa, who watched me piece it together.
“Your powers seem to be getting along now. It looked like a lightning storm from here. More gold than the true white of lightning, but with the clouds, it was disguised enough.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
Nerissa shook her head. “None on deck.”
“How long were we up there?”
“Four hours,” she said, glancing at my forearms.
I followed her gaze. The darkness had subsided, but the two powers coiled together deep in their chasm.
My stomach pitched. I hadn’t had a lapse of control like this since Odessa. The cause of it all slapped me in the face, and the emptiness of betrayal and devastation hollowed out my chest. My lip quivered, and I looked away from Nerissa. She pulled her gaze away and leaned against the rail.
“I cannot talk about it,” she breathed. “As I know you can’t. So, for right now, we don’t.”
A single tear formed in the corner of my eye. It hung there for a moment, creating a pool of warm liquid.
Bayne was soulbound to a monster. He was a hawk, tethered and unable to fly. But he’d chosen this. Could I free him? What would the cost be?
Nerissa’s steely gaze was hard against the deep blue horizon, and I thought perhaps I began to understand her. It was far easier to keep your feelings, your most vulnerable self, locked up tight and safe within your heart than it was to be this exposed, this broken and betrayed, this devastated.
Anger. Wrath. Fury. It was easier to let these out. The protectors, the defenders of what lay so deeply hidden. They were shields, guardians of the soft, raw, and delicate parts inside us. But I needed them all. My powers needed them, needed access to all of me to work.
I blinked, allowing that single tear to slide down my cheek, cooling as it went, and I slowly closed the gap in my heart, shutting it tightly, allowing those shields to stand guard until my powers demanded a taste.
“Astraeus asked us to reconvene at dawn. There’s still much to discuss,” she said quietly.
“I’m getting really fucking tired of being on his ship,” I murmured before pushing off the ledge.
“Where were we?” Astraeus drawled around the rolled enderleaf between his lips.
My blood pressure surged as he threw me a wink..
Drystan leaned over the map, pointing to Lotrennia.
“The Rising fighters have agreed to help push Daimos’s forces out of northern Lotrennia before they return to Sultira.
They left soon before we departed. And then there are the deaths.
” He turned toward me and paused, raising his dark eyebrows in question.
My chin dipped in confirmation to continue.
“I’ve sworn the oath,” Astraeus growled from across the table. “We may as well speak freely.” His dark eyes scanned the group, a note of deadly authority riding his tone. His eyes met mine and softened with the slightest bit of humor.
I threw every bit of irritation into my returning glare. Don’t you fucking dare.
His lip twitched, and I yanked my gaze away before he was further tempted into tugging on that small bit of air connecting us.
“If we are speaking freely,” Nerissa snapped, straightening as she looked the pirate lord in the eyes, “then tell us about those red cuffs and the cannonballs you used in the gulf.”
Raek, who’d been standing in the corner and leaning against the wall, straightened, shifting his position as he eyed the pirate lord. Astraeus merely scratched his short beard as he eyed Nerissa with indifference.
“What is there to say? The rubellines negate magic, cut it off at the source. It’s a simple spell. A larger rubelline has a larger effect, nullifying the magic within a space, depending on size.”
“How did you come about it?” Ronan asked.
“The Lords of Marisarma are treasure hunters,” Astraeus murmured. “My crew discovered the stone used to create the rubelline long ago. We didn’t learn of its use until an unfortunate accident.”
“How many rubellines do you have?” Nerissa cut in. “This isn’t just a defense. This is a weapon.”
“A weapon vital in the wars to come, yes,” Astraeus murmured, his dark eyes brightening. “I have two fewer cuffs and two fewer cannonballs than I did a month ago.”
He lowered his dark eyes pointedly to my jacket pocket, where I kept the cuffs I’d taken from him. “Alas, we aren’t here to discuss rubellines,” he said, jerking his chin toward Drystan and raising his eyebrows.
Drystan rubbed the space between his eyes before continuing. “The fire pox isn’t the only illness. Resurgences of a myriad of maladies have swept across Lotrennia. All accompanied by strange injuries.”
Vulcan shifted next to me. “All over Lotrennia? Survivors?”
“No.” Drystan’s usual bright eyes dipped. “It’s quick. The only connection we’ve identified is that the first group, the ones that died at the Awakening, were all covered in the same nebulis powder. But the others seem widespread enough that the powder seems to have had nothing to do with it.”
Powder… A memory pricked my mind.
“This, on top of the ashen released on the northern shores,” Drystan continued, his hand movements slowing with fatigue. “Lotrennia is vulnerable.”
Silence hung in the room like a veil in a windless night. I fingered the amber pendant on my neck, tracing the intricate designs on the amplifier with my thumb as I replayed his words.
There was too much happening in the world. Too many places to be at once, too many powers to use, levers to flip, favors to call in.
Choices, Xenelpha had stressed. It was all about choices.
“We’re too far from Lotrennia to lend aid right now,” I said slowly, my eyes locked on the map in front of us. “We aren’t prepared to intercept Daimos’s forces north of Sultira and continue to Lotrennia. We’d need more time for that.”
I stood and leaned over the map of Vael.
“But we have new weapons at our disposal,” I murmured, thinking of the alliance with Astraeus and the rubellines.
“If we could reconvene with the Rising forces in Sultira while Saros has eyes in the north…” I paused, glancing at Ronan, whose sapphire eyes brightened.
“We take Aedrialis while Saros is distracted,” he finished for me.
“And then send aid north before determining when to return to Lotrennia.” The words caught in my throat. The guilt of leaving Bayne, Isla, and Vander in Lotrennia.
We’d return. And when we did, we’d do it with a force. I paused, looking expectantly at Carina as I wiped the sweat from my neck. Her spectacles had slid down her nose as she shrugged her shoulders. The room was notably warmer than it was when we began the discussion.
“Nothing to add from the Heir of Lotrennia?” Astraeus asked, cocking his head to the side as he examined the young elf.
A small laugh escaped her lips. “Heir of Lotrennia? I’m no more an heir to the throne than you are king of Votruvia.”
The knot in my gut tightened at her words, at their implication. Nerissa’s knee pressed into mine. I sensed several sets of eyes on me, but kept mine pinned on Carina’s face, now bearing the look of indifference.
“He is king. They are soulbound. She’ll bear a new heir.”
I swallowed, a surge of emotion clogging my throat.
We are not the same.
Bayne’s words from all those months ago now echoed in my mind like a stinging warning. It had always been out of the question for us.
“When we were in Odessa, you said there were other Rising camps,” Lord Astraeus cut in, finally sitting up, his boots landing on the wooden floor with a loud thump as he leaned his elbows upon his knees. “Do you have any idea where they’d be now?”
I released a sigh, grateful for the change in subject, and threw the pirate a cautious glance, but he kept his eyes averted.
Ronan gave a rough shake of his head. “Queen Antares suggested south, but who knows if that holds true.”
Astraeus stood and leaned over the map, tapping the table with the various rings on his fingers. “We’ll have to scout then. Good thing we have two fliers now.”
The color leached from Nerissa’s face as Astraeus turned his gaze toward us, raising his eyebrows.
A thin hand gripped my own as I made my way above deck. I whirled, coming face-to-face with Marian for the first time since Lotrennia.
“You’ve avoided me,” she signed, her tired eyes fierce. Her hair seemed to have gotten grayer, little bits fraying from the bun she wore at the nape of her neck, still windblown from their journey.
“You’re one to talk.” I frowned, not realizing my blunder until the words had escaped my lips. My stomach pitched, and I opened my mouth to apologize, but her lips tilted upward.
“I know what you meant,” she signed back. “Can we talk?”
Talk. About Oslo? I wasn’t sure I could. The pit in my stomach grew as I added names, known and unknown, to the list of people whose deaths were on my hands.
“I don’t blame you,” she continued, without my answer.
I eyed her doubtfully.
She nodded, signing, “I did blame you. I hated you. But it was unfair. I know it killed you.” She tapped her chest. “In here. I know it destroyed you inside.”
My chest cracked. Warm tears threatened to form, and I snapped the little sliver in my heart shut.
“I am so sorry,” I said without emotion, keeping my voice level. I’d said it a thousand times.
Streaks of silver lined Marian’s eyes as she stared at me through her tears. She swallowed.
“I loved him,” she signed slowly. “He saved me when my husband died, years ago. He tried to save him, too. He gave up everything to get me to safety.”
“Tell me everything,” I said, gripping her hand.