35. Aftermath | Lyra
The rocking was what woke her. It wasn’t the steady tugging of the current, but something more, something harsh.
Lyra blinked her eyes open and stared up at the face mere inches from hers.
“You were down longer this time,” Nerida said, concern shadowing her eyes.
Lyra rolled away from her sister and pressed her face into her pillow with a groan.
“I told you not to use it,” Nerida sighed.
“I didn’t have a choice,” Lyra’s reply was muffled as she spoke into the pillow.
Her memory sailed back in, and she shuddered.
There was so much blood. So much iron.
She sat up quickly, and the room spun.
“Is Drystan alright?”
Nerida’s face pinched. “Estria tended to him. He’s fine.”
Lyra exhaled and then stilled.
“That’s a new twist,” Nerida chuckled, patting the side of her sleek bun. “Can’t say I’m surprised, though.”
Lyra swung her tail over the side of the shell. “It’s not like that.”
Nerida’s lips thinned as her brows rose. “Anyway—how did it feel to use your magic?”
At the mere mention of her magic, Lyra felt in her chest for the thread.
It was still there and not as dull as it should have been after her clumsy strum.
“It was easier, but I knew I shouldn’t have pushed too hard,” Lyra rubbed her temples. “I was just angry, so all-consumingly furious. I didn’t think.”
“Why?” Nerida tilted her head to the side.
“They were coming for us, and Drystan wanted to fend them off on his own. We were outnumbered and weaponless. He ordered me back to the palace to be protected, and I just—snapped.”
Her hands slipped from the side of her head. She should have felt something for the lives she had just taken, but she felt nothing.
The shadow of nothing that dwelled at the back of her mind had grown.
“You felt threatened,” Nerida patted the top of Lyra’s hand. “That’s normal.”
“I feel nothing now,” Lyra sighed. “Is that normal, too?”
Nerida shrugged. “We can ask Estria before she leaves if you’d like.”
Lyra wasn’t partial to asking the sea witch for any help at all. But if Nerida felt inclined to, she could.
“I spoke with her before I came to check on you today.”
Lyra frowned. “Why?”
Nerida’s lips twitched as she tried to staunch the smile that was rapidly blossoming on her face.
“I figured out the words to undo the bargain!”
Lyra’s mouth dropped, and she covered it with her hand. “You lie?”
“No,” Nerida practically squealed the word.
The weight on Lyra’s chest evaporated, and she took a deep breath. They were one huge step closer.
“Bargains are like braids,” Nerida said. “You’ll have to start at the crown and unweave it to the bottom. So I think you’ll have to go back to the land.”
Lyra grimaced. “I knew that much already.”
Nerida clasped Lyra’s hand in hers. “It’s more dangerous on land. The humans don’t want you to break the Tithe.”
Lyra rolled her eyes. She wasn’t afraid of the humans. Not anymore.
“I can handle myself.”
Nerida squeezed her hand. “I still worry.”
“How sisterly of you.” Lyra’s lips kicked up in a crooked grin.
“Don’t be annoying.” Nerida pushed her hand away, rising from the bed. “Estria mentioned needing to draw power from the land.”
“A ley line,” Lyra muttered under her breath.
“I didn’t even think of that, of course!” Nerida tipped her head back to the ceiling. “I’ll get you a map.”
Lyra shook her head and swam over to her vanity. Her room seemed to vibrate, but it must have been her mind still recovering from wielding.
She plopped onto the stool and held her head in her hands.
“There’s one that runs through the reef.”
Her door sprang open, and Drystan appeared. His face was twisted with fury, and then he blinked, and it melted away. His eyes met hers through the sea glass.
“You are well?”
She turned in her seat to face him. “I am.”
Nerida’s head swiveled from Lyra to Drystan, and she bit her lip. “I’ll just …” She sped through the door and gave Lyra one last, impish grin.
Drystan shut the door behind her and crossed his arms over his massive chest.
“That was a foolish, reckless?—”
“Are you yelling at me?” Lyra reeled back. “I saved our lives!”
“You killed them all!” A blush bloomed on his cheeks, and he roughly raked his hands through his hair. “Not a single one survived!”
“Good,” Lyra snapped. “You’re just upset you weren’t strong enough to do it yourself.”
Drystan balled his hands into fists.
“You think so little of me—” he shook his head. “I’m angry because we have no way to prove this was Aegir.”
Lyra slammed her palm onto her vanity, and the glass vials shook. “Of course it was him! They were acolytes.”
Drystan shook his head and inhaled sharply through his nose. “Just because they were acolytes doesn’t prove he sent them there. We needed to get the information out of them.”
Her head throbbed, and her stomach rioted.
But he was right. Deep down, she knew he was right.
“I saved you from wasting your time,” she seethed. “They would never have turned on him.”
Drystan scowled. “We don’t know that. You didn’t give us a chance.”
“Good!” Her shoulders rose and fell with her heaved breaths. “I’m glad they’re dead. I’m only sorry that I didn’t take my fucking time.”
Drystan didn’t so much as blink as he stared at her.
The tension made the water feel crisp.
Finally, he sighed. His massive shoulders fell with the movement. “This is who I knew you were all along,” he said at last.
Something had shifted between them.
Lyra remembered his words before the attack and looked quickly away.
“We need to get married,” Drystan said.
Lyra reeled back in shock. “You see me murder a dozen acolytes and your first thought is our wedding?”
“It’s the only way around this. Once married, the throne is mine, and I can put an end to any future threats to our lives.”
A lump built in her throat, tightening and burning, and making speech nearly impossible.
“I know,” he said softly. “I know you don’t want this. But it’s the only way to protect you. To restore the kingdom. You—you were right. Aegir has too much power. And if you keep having to wield every time there’s a threat, you will die before you can unbind the tithe.”
A line cleaved between her brows at his words.
She was right.
But so was he.
“I know how to undo the tithe,” she whispered.
It was only speech she could manage, a small, broken whisper.
“We’ll break it after,” Drystan said. “I can’t protect you from anything until we have the throne.”
She felt as if the world were ending, but she nodded.
There wasn’t a way around this.