Chapter 11
Flint
If this is what dying feels like, then I wish death would stop being such a tease.
Come and get me already. Come and take me somewhere safe and quiet.
A lush green meadow. A comfortable room.
Perhaps my mother will be there, waiting with Aunt Yvainne.
Maybe Blaze is there too, sitting cross-legged in an armchair, her nose buried in a book.
Strange. It’s almost as if I can hear voices speaking softly. If my mouth weren’t all dried up, I’d call out to them.
More time passes and I wait patiently, letting my life drift away slowly, like smoke.
A light breeze flutters gently across my face. There’s a strange scraping sound, followed by a grunt. This must be it – the end.
‘Mother?’ I whisper.
‘Hmm,’ says a familiar voice. ‘You know I like it when you call me baby, but I think Mother might be a step too far.’
I open my eye. ‘Spinner?’
‘Hello, lover.’
I stare at her, stunned. I blink once, twice, three times, and yet she’s still there, grinning down at me, her pretty, pointed face illuminated by the nightlight.
‘I’ve always liked how you look when you’re sleepy. Wouldn’t you agree, Sheen?’
My chaperone steps out from behind her. His white-blonde hair looks even paler against his smooth russet skin. His violet eyes are fixed on me, unblinking. My stomach tumbles at the sight of him. Both of them wear modest travel clothes and thick boots. There’s not a scrap of gold in sight.
‘What’re you doing here?’ My voice is a rough croak.
Spinner laughs. ‘We’ve come to rescue you, silly.’
‘But –’
‘But what?’
‘Blaze,’ I say. ‘Blaze. She’s on the other side. You – you have to get her out.’
‘No need,’ Spinner tells me.
‘What d’you mean, no need?’ I demand. ‘I pushed her out of the way. She could be under the rubble …’ I trail off, my body wracked with coughs that sound a bit like sobs.
Spinner shakes her head. ‘I said no need, Flint, because she’s already gone.’
‘That’s impossible.’
‘Tell that to the trail of footsteps we found leading out of the tunnel.’
I let her words sink in. ‘She got out?’
‘Yup.’
‘And I’m not dying?’
‘Nope.’
‘And you … you’re not just in my head?’
Spinner leans down and presses a soft kiss to my mouth. Her lips are sugar-sweet, comforting and familiar. ‘Feel that?’
I nod slowly.
‘Don’t worry,’ Spinner says gently, looping my satchel over her shoulder and straightening up. ‘We’re going to get you out of here.’
My head pounds. ‘How? And how did you even get in?’
Spinner glances at Sheen, who hesitates briefly before stepping forward. Before I can let out so much as a squeak of protest, he gathers me into his arms.
‘Like this.’ Spinner winks at me.
The next moment she’s gone, vanished into thin air.
My jaw drops. I look up at Sheen, his face so closed off, so close to mine.
I open my mouth to say something – I’m not entirely sure what – but I don’t get the chance.
There’s a sudden rush of wind, an unpleasant squeezing feeling, a sense of weightlessness.
When I open my eye seconds later, I’m no longer trapped inside a rubble-filled, bone-strewn chamber in the Ridge tunnels but on a grassy bank, breathing cool, sweet air.
I twist my head from side to side, taking in my surroundings. Rolling hills, blue sky, midday sun beating down hot – and a whole lot of green.
The Wildlands.
Spinner beckons us over into the shade, where a few branches have been bent and bound to form a haphazard little shelter. Beside it sit three waterskins and a steaming cooking pot. One whiff of the contents sets my stomach growling.
I become aware of two things in quick succession. First, I’m not wearing a shirt. Second, I’m still cradled in Sheen’s arms, which are surprisingly muscular despite his lean frame. And what’s more, I’m clinging to him so tightly I’ve lost some of the feeling in my fingers.
Heat blooms in my face and neck. In an attempt to preserve a shred of dignity, I stick out my chin and fold my distinctly less brawny arms across my chest.
‘Put me down.’
Sheen raises an eyebrow.
‘Now,’ I command, with considerably more authority.
‘My pleasure,’ he says dryly, and lets go of me.
I hit the ground with a thud, letting out a traitorously high-pitched yelp. I glare at Sheen. The ghost of a smirk quirks the corners of his sullen mouth. I’m too weak to stand, so I swallow my pride and start crawling over to where Spinner is holding out a waterskin.
‘Slow down,’ she says mildly as I drain it in a few gulps.
I lean back against a boulder. ‘How did you even find me?’
‘We may have been … observing you these past few days.’
‘You were spying on us?’ I exclaim, outraged.
‘We were simply checking in on you, that’s all,’ Spinner says, raising her hands defensively. ‘We just dropped by occasionally to make sure you were both all right. You and Blaze – well, you’re important. And you’re important to me.’
I soften, just a fraction. Then a thought hits me. ‘My grandmother didn’t hire you to keep tabs on us, did she?’
Spinner giggles. ‘Gods, no. Your grandmother terrifies me.’
I snort. ‘Join the club. You should’ve seen the way she looked at me at Fire Mountain, as though I were encouraging my sister to put herself in harm’s way.’ I pause, rolling a vial of painkiller between my fingers. ‘I promised her I’d take care of Blaze …’
‘Blaze is alive,’ Spinner says gently. ‘We’ll find her, I promise.’
‘Then what are we waiting for?’ I ask, hauling myself up.
‘Don’t be a fool,’ says Sheen, sounding bored.
‘There’s no time to waste,’ I snap over my shoulder.
‘Look at you. You can barely walk.’
As soon as I turn back, Sheen is there, standing right in front of me. I let out a hiss of irritation before side-stepping him and carrying on. But he just does it again, and again, until I’m overcome with the urge to punch him in his stupid, surly face.
‘Listen,’ he says curtly. ‘Your sister could’ve emerged from any of the Ridge tunnels. Rather than wandering around like an idiot, you have to think logically. You don’t know where she is, so head to where you think she’d go.’
I frown, puzzled.
Sheen pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. ‘Are you really as dim as you are vain? You and Blaze – where were you going?’
I consider not telling him, then tell him anyway. ‘The Court of Waves.’
‘Well, then,’ he says. ‘There’s your answer.’
I hesitate, mulling over his words.
‘He’s right, Flint,’ says Spinner.
‘I’m always right,’ Sheen tells her matter-of-factly.
I scowl, drawing myself up to full height, though Sheen still towers over me by several irritating inches. ‘Fine. I’ll go to the Lagoon.’
‘Excellent.’ Spinner beams. ‘I’ve always wanted to see it.’
I glance round at her. ‘You’re coming with me?’
‘Of course we are,’ she says. ‘You think we’d leave you to fend for yourself? Besides, I’ve missed you, Flint Flameborn. I don’t intend to let you out of my sight.’
I return her smile. I’ve missed her too. Being with Spinner makes me feel like my old self again. Or at least, it’s easier to pretend to be.
Then I turn back to Sheen. ‘And you?’
His eyes shutter, tightening at the corners. ‘I’m your chaperone,’ is all he says.
I arch a brow and reach up reflexively to strum the string of my bow before remembering that it’s now just a pile of matchsticks in the Ridge tunnels.
My arm falls loosely to my side, and I experience a begrudging spark of gratitude for my companions, sullen or otherwise.
If it weren’t for them, I’d have met the same fate as my weapon, my remains buried forever inside a rocky tomb. I try not to shudder.
Spinner ladles some soup into a bowl. ‘You should eat.’
I return to the camp and descend on the food.
Sheen watches me with only mild disgust, picking at a loose thread on his ill-fitting shirt.
Like Blaze and me, he and Spinner have chosen to pose as Fidra too.
It’s strange seeing them like this. Toned down.
Disguised. Only, they’ve really just traded one disguise for another, because as members of the emperor’s court, they’re always in disguise.
Unlike the rest of the Etheri, Eyes never wear their gift colour, only Imperial gold.
That’s what makes them dangerous – their unpredictability.
Their power lies in the fact that we don’t know which element they wield.
Except, I do know which element Spinner and Sheen wield, because they showed me. Vanishing in one place, reappearing somewhere else entirely. Travelling through the air. Flitting, just like King Balen.
‘So,’ I venture, scraping my bowl clean and holding it out for more, ‘when were the two of you planning on telling me that you’re Ventalla?’
A long pause.
‘Er … soon?’ Spinner suggests.
‘Never,’ says Sheen.
‘Well, that’s too bad,’ I tell him smugly. ‘But the good news is, now I know your secret, we should make it to the Waterlands in record time.’
Spinner shakes her head. ‘No.’
‘What d’you mean, no?’
‘We’re not flitting,’ she says firmly. ‘We have to go on foot.’
‘What? Why?’
‘Because it’s too risky,’ she says simply. ‘The wind still belongs to King Balen. It spies for him, listens for him. Flitting can only be a last resort. Besides, it’s awfully draining.’
I let out a long-suffering sigh and get to my feet. ‘I’m going to wash.’
‘Thank the Gods,’ mutters Sheen.
I shoot him a dark look before ducking through a leafy canopy of trees, emerging next to the Creek. The water is bracing and blissfully cool. It eases the heat in my burns.
I emerge sometime later, cold but clean.
A neatly folded pile of clothes waits for me on the bank.
I pull them on, step into my boots, tug my eyepatch back over my head and return to the camp, where Spinner leads me by the hand into the makeshift shelter.
Sheen sits at the entrance, playing absent-mindedly with a small current of air.
‘Aren’t you going to ask what we were doing?’ I say. ‘Blaze and me?’
Spinner shrugs. ‘We already know.’
I stare at her. ‘You know? About the three sisters? About the talismans?’
‘Mm-hm.’
‘How?’
Spinner smiles, her dark-green eyes sparkling. ‘I have friends in high places.’
I let out an exasperated huff. ‘Anything else you’d like to share?’
She tuts. ‘Someone’s a little grumpy.’
‘That’s because someone’s had a long day.’
‘Then why doesn’t someone get some rest?’
I do feel tired, come to mention it. I’m still weak, and my head aches. It’s exhausting, almost dying. Really wears you out.
‘Maybe … maybe just a couple of hours,’ I concede. ‘And then –’
‘I know, I know, and then we head to the Lagoon.’
‘And find Blaze.’
‘And find Blaze,’ Spinner echoes, patting my arm.
Settling myself down on a pile of thick furs, I drift off slowly with my head in Spinner’s lap. For someone who started his day on the brink of death, this is certainly not the worst outcome in the world.