Chapter 10
Chapter ten
We sail until the sun kisses the horizon, the faint pink glow of morning bleeding upward to meet the night. While the wards on land are tempestuous—gaping open one moment and falling closed the next—the ones at sea appear every morning where water meets sky and night meets dawn.
Sam and I had barely survived sailing through one such ward at the edges of the violet sea in Somnya.
We’d been on a makeshift raft for two days when we were set upon by a wild storm.
The air fizzled with electricity, the wind coaxing the waves so high, we were certain we’d never see light again if dragged beneath them.
We thought ourselves doomed until we realized it wasn’t a squall at all, but a precipice of possibility. And though the ward had nearly ripped our raft in half as it sent us careening into a foreign sea, we’d laughed wildly in the face of death as the thrill of adventure raced in our veins.
The same sort of storm looms before Wendy and I now, angry and churning above the water.
Lightning sparks over the sky, and the howl of wind is deafening even from this distance.
I’m no Darling, but I feel the energy of the ward in the hum of my blood.
This time, it isn’t the draw of magic nor the effervescent freedom simmering in the air—it is the pull of home.
In all my centuries, both in Somnya and Letum—on the mainland, and in the many worlds beyond—I never felt its call. But now, it pulses through me in warm waves, both a compulsion and a salve.
I know where I belong now, and it isn’t the sea.
The ice of death spreads through my heart at the thought, ready to cut down anyone who stands in my way.
The wind is freezing as we reach the edge of the storm, the power of it stealing the air from my lungs as more lightning crackles overhead.
Wendy kills the engine and the small boat rocks, but I hardly notice as I gaze up at the wall of magic and embrace the heated adrenaline that’s begun to pump through me.
Finally.
After so many long months, I can nearly feel the warmth of the black sand of Letum on my skin; nearly taste the sweet air.
“Nik…”
Wendy’s voice is an unwelcome interruption from my thoughts, and irritation rankles against the back of my neck as I draw my gaze back toward her.
Beneath the soft light, she looks like the same woman I met all those centuries ago—streaks of dawn color her blonde hair a pretty pink that matches the shade staining her full cheeks—but I hold none of the gentleness in my heart I once did.
I’d hid my shadows from her, expecting her to break like a porcelain doll if I showed her so much as a glimmer of my true self. I’d contorted myself into the man she wanted, never pausing to examine what it was that I wanted.
I know now, and it is not gentle. It is fierce and violent and makes my heart bleed out over and over.
“What?” I bite out, not even bothering to keep the annoyance from my tone.
Wendy worries her bottom lip, like she’s gathering the courage to speak. “You—you may not love me anymore…”
My eyes stray to the blood still staining her clothes. “Clearly.”
That lip wobbles again. “But…I still care for you.”
Somehow, I refrain from scoffing, as she goes on, “And because I do, I just have to say again…you don’t have to go back. You can stay here, and live freely. Without pain.”
Her brown eyes shine, pleading with me to see reason as they’ve done so many times before. But that’s always been the difference between her and I—she lives her life between the lines of reason, and I’ve only ever lived mine to shatter them.
“Pain is my familiar, Wen,” I reply quietly. “It has made me who I am.”
She breathes out a defeated sigh. “Is that why you’re going back? Because you think that’s all you are? Death and ruin and pain?”
“I am all of those things. Look at the world around us,” I gesture vaguely to where we last saw the shore of the mainland, with its crumbling infrastructure and dreary hearts. All caused by the jealous wants of my death, by my quest for vengeance and power. “It’s proof enough of the man I am.”
“You’ve always been such a masochist, Niko.”
I merely grin. “As far as I can tell, that was one of your most treasured qualities in me.”
She ignores my rancor, and I have to clench my fists at my sides to keep from turning away from the eager pleading in her eyes.
“You don’t have to be those things,” she whispers, the roar of the storm nearly drowning out her words. “You don’t have to be king. You don’t have to bear the weight of the world’s mistakes on your shoulders. You can choose to go anywhere through this ward.”
I examine her for a long moment, wondering which truth to give her.
There are so many, layered atop one another until they are nearly indeterminable—the foremost being that I am choosing to go home, while having no choice at all.
Since the moment I woke up in this starforsaken world, I’ve been driven both by my own ruthless determination and the incessant compulsion that lives in the darkest depths of my soul.
It’s never been a simple matter of choice, but a matter of where my heart lives. It certainly isn’t inside my chest.
Magic no longer courses through my veins, but the covetous spirit of death still does. So, while returning to Letum is both a punishment and a penance, neither is the sole reason I’m going back.
I am going to take back what’s mine.
I don’t say any of this to Wendy. I only ask, “Where is this coming from? A few hours ago, you were ready to have me killed by your thugs, and now, you’re worried for my safety?
You’ll have to forgive my suspicion, but I did just slit your throat and stain your couch.
I would assume you’d want to be rid of me as soon as possible. ”
She shoots me a dirty look, before rolling her eyes back to the ward raging above us.
It is a beautiful sort of violence, the remnant of millions of worlds radiating through the smallest pinprick.
The storm surrounding it has grown larger, angrier, in the short time since we stopped the boat.
Sunlight has begun to melt over the horizon like streaks of butter, and it won’t be long before the ward is fully open.
“I thought about what you said. About burning the world rather than letting someone you care about be hurt.” She tears her eyes away from the storm to level me with a pitying look. “You’re going to do it again, Niko.”
I cross my arms over my chest, leaning back into my seat with cruel amusement. “And you’re going to play the little savior you always do and try to talk me out of it?”
To my surprise, Wendy shakes her head. “No,” she replies firmly. “It’s just a reminder that you don’t always have to tear yourself apart. You are worth keeping whole. You are worth more than your magic, more than your kingdom…and more than your past.”
Wendy means it as a kindness, but it feels more like an injustice as her words land squarely over my chest. Because my past, my kingdom, my death…
all of them are carved into the marrow of my bones, laced into the beat of my heart and the rhythm of my lungs.
I can no more extract myself from them than I can drain the blood from my veins. There’d be nothing left.
She’s seen the imprints they leave on the surface—my loyalty, my determination, my love—but she’s always remained willfully blind to what exists at the root of those things.
My chest suddenly aches so fiercely, I almost clutch at my shirt to relieve the pain. The expanding hollow of something that once existed—something that understood every part of me and did not balk.
Instead, I fist my fingers at my side, and tell Wen softly, “I will do my best to leave you out of it.”
Her brows lift. “You will?”
“Before I was king, before I was captain…I was Strayed. I know what it feels like to be torn apart day after day by the Everlasting’s love, and no matter the bitterness that lies between us, I am not so far gone that I would willingly wish that on anyone.
On my kingdom, I promise not to tell him you still live. ”
Wendy shoulders sag in a soft sigh of relief like the armor she’s held up since I arrived has uncoiled, and knowing what I do now, I understand it. My love had been her shield against the Aeternalis. Without it, she is vulnerable to his twisted affection if he were ever to find her again.
“I will keep your secret, Wen. For as long as I’m able.”
She meets my gaze, acceptance shining in her eyes. It does not change what we’ve done to each other, nor the things we will do in the future, but for the moment, it’s a tenuous truce.
Her gaze flickers to the ward. “It’s time.”
She restarts the engine, its hum lost in the howl of the storm.
I hold my breath as the boat begins to move slowly into the towering wall of magic.
Power, ancient and untethered, sparks against my skin like embers of flame, burning every bit of oxygen from the air.
Across from me, Wendy closes her eyes, her hair dancing wildly around her head as the wind whips in violent circles.
Thunder rumbles, so loud, my teeth vibrate.
A wave crashes against us and the boat lists, sending us both nearly tumbling over the sea-slick bulwark.
Though it’s been centuries since I’ve sailed, my balance at sea is innate. I steady myself, before hauling Wendy upward to shove her back into the seat unceremoniously.
My heart leaps in time with the magic pulsing in electric jolts, like each spark stops and restarts its beat.
I have no ribbons in this world, but I swear an echo of my death pulses around me, answering the call of the ward.
Another flash sizzles over the sky, and for brief a moment, there is nothing but light.
Blinding, otherworldly, and entirely consuming.
It sears my skin, presses against my sternum and crushes my lungs.