Chapter 68
Evie
The water was freezing, and the tide was strong. But she’d already committed to this ridiculous plan. Now was not the time for regret. Now was the time to swim.
A splash came from behind her, and she paused, treading water. “Have you lost your senses?” Trystan growled, struggling through another stroke until he was treading water beside her. “You couldn’t have at least waited for a Cloak Float?”
She snorted at the thought of the garment often used when children learned to swim to keep them above water, resembling a cloak but made for the floating. She hadn’t seen one in years.
“I haven’t used a Cloak Float since I was a little girl.
” She rolled her eyes, beginning to swim again.
It didn’t bode well that her arms were already burning, the strength of the current not at all what she’d expected.
“The boat must go all the way around to dock, whereas we will wash up”—she lost her breath momentarily when a wave came and pulled her under, but she bobbed up quickly—“on the beach.”
His hand closed around her waist, pulling her above water. “Hopefully not as a corpse,” he grumbled like a curmudgeonly old man, tugging her along through the current.
The surface of the sea was tinged orange from the sunrise above. It felt like bathing in sunlight. The waves grew calmer the farther they moved from the boat, and warmer as the sun moved higher in the sky.
Evie began floating on her back to rest a moment. Closing her eyes, she allowed the light to sink below her skin, to all the places of her heart that should have hardened. But Evie felt herself smile.
Because she still found beautiful things in the quiet moments. Even in the terrible ones. And she was coming to trust that she always would.
“I’ll continue swimming soon,” she assured Trystan.
There was no response. Not even the sounds of him splashing gently beside her. She went vertical immediately, scanning the water, but he wasn’t there.
Don’t panic, Evie.
“If you got eaten by a shark, I’m going to be…” She breathed heavily, swimming closer to the shore, stopping to look around once more. “So pissed.”
No answer.
Time to panic, Evie.
“Trystan!” She dove under the waves, searching the water, but couldn’t see through the salt burning her eyes.
She came up for air, barely taking a breath before she was back under.
She thought she saw a blur of movement, but it was gone seconds later.
She broke the surface again, the mist coming out of her fingers, hovering above her, waiting for a command.
Find him, she willed. Find the nearest human body. The power dove below the waves, and she followed it, searching the water as the black mist crowded around someone, lighting them up in rainbow iridescence.
There. Bring him to me.
The magic surrounded the blurred body, and Evie met it halfway, wrapping her arms around his muscled chest and pulling him to the surface. “Trystan!” she urged, shaking him. His body was limp.
No.
The shore. We need the shore.
And without much effort at all, the dark mist began pushing them through the waves until they were washed ashore. Evie grabbed Trystan’s bulky shoulders, dragging with effort, her magic assisting to get him farther from the water before she dropped onto her knees.
“Wake up.” She shook him, but he didn’t respond. Not so much as a jaw twitch. His face was soft, peaceful. She pounded a fist against his chest. “WAKE UP!”
Water sprayed out of his mouth, and he gagged on it, turning over and clutching at the sand. “Deadlands,” he cursed. “Did you have to hit me so hard?”
“What happened to you!” she shrieked, ignoring the stare from an old fisherman walking past them with a bucket. “Move along, fish man!” she barked, and the man ran.
Trystan chuckled, his head flopping to the ground, eyes shut, chest moving rapidly with his ragged breaths. “That man has been selling bait on this beach since I was a child, and I’ve never seen him scared.”
Evie took a beat, trying to calm her racing heart, drinking in the image of Trystan, alive and well. She never could have saved him if not for the dark magic. She owed it…everything.
“What happened?” she finally asked him.
“I dropped something and wildly overestimated how long I could hold my breath.” He coughed more, water still making its way out of his lungs.
“What could you have dropped that was so important?”
His fist opened, and there was the key Benedict sought.
The anchor to bring about the curse sat glowing in his hand.
“I couldn’t risk Benedict finding it back on the boat.
” He sat up, and Evie helped him, baffled by his good spirits.
“Now. Shall we go to the Garden of Rennedawn? And end this once and for all?”
Evie glanced down at her scantily clad body. “Perhaps we might find me some clothes first?”
His eyes widened, and he searched around him, looking for watchful eyes.
“I insist on it,” he said gruffly.
And off they went. Knowing this was their last chance to save Rennedawn.
Whether it be from Benedict…
Or from Evie.