15 Imogen
Imogen
I didn’t know how deep into the night time had taken me, but the music had stopped long ago.
I’d spent the hours on my cot, determined to keep my thoughts on my own body and breaths.
Despite Eusia’s closeness, despite how fragile and out of control our corrupted bond made me feel, I reminded myself in a desperate chant that my power belonged to me.
The waves had grown steeper, and the ship rocked with a hypnotic violence that dragged me toward the brink of sleep, then yanked me right back.
My thoughts were frantic. Spiking, ebbing, crashing against my skull.
That oily thrum in my middle had remained, and it felt like Eusia was gleefully tugging at our bond.
Poking at the tough scar that now sat there.
I rolled to my side and firmed my jaw, trying to solidify my determination. Though it felt like she had me in her clutches, I reminded myself that I was stronger than she was.
She needed me.
But I couldn’t escape the question I wanted so badly to ignore. What is it you need?
Even letting myself think the question brought a sting to my eyes.
There was a terrible pain in giving my needs a shape and a name—it meant I would have something real to mourn when I failed to claim them.
But despite my reluctance, I could see the walls of that small home.
Could smell the perfume of the flowers curling through the open window.
Could hear the distant sounds of the sea crashing across the shore, and a warm, low voice beckoning me out into the garden.
I rolled myself onto my back and pressed my palms to my eyes. There was no space for that sort of peace. There were Gods and monsters and kingdoms to see to, so I closed myself up once more and thought of Eusia.
Her plan to collect power had been intricate and long fought, and even though I’d seen glimpses of Eusia’s past in my visions, I suspected that I still did not know the whole of it. I thought of Halla’s words—
You have everything she has ever wanted. All without trying.
The surety with which Halla had looked at me when she’d said it sent a chill through me even now, as did her sudden willingness to assist me when we finally reached Anthemoessa. Her motives were an enigma.
I should expect nothing of her but duplicity, yet I found myself hoping…
The darkness was lightening. I stared at the ceiling and breathed. I wanted nepenthe. Wanted wine. Wanted anything that would carve down my ragged feelings. As I lay there, fighting for some calm, my mind floated to Theodore.
I thought of his gentleness, his belief in me, even after learning my worst. He made me want to be better, to fight, but too quickly, the soft images of him turned cruel.
I pictured his strong, bare body moving above Halla’s.
I pictured his lips pressing against her skin, his hands fisted in her pale hair.
I could almost hear his rough voice warming her ear.
Anguish blocked my throat. I stood and pulled on a new pair of uniform trousers. I’d taken off my gown the moment Lachlan had locked my cabin door. It was stuffed under the cot in a ball.
Just as I adjusted my binding and stuffed the hem of my shirt into my waistband, the ship gave a wild lurch.
It threw me to the cabin floor, knees slamming into the wood.
For a moment, I thought perhaps we’d run aground, only for the ship to lurch in the opposite direction.
It threw me backward, ramming my spine into the hard leg of the cot.
The wood groaned loudly; footsteps and shouts sounded through the planks. I crawled back onto my cot to peer through the porthole where an eerie yellow-tinged darkness greeted me. I held my breath and listened to the sea, but it had grown… quiet.
It didn’t splash and dance in my ears like I was used to. Instead, it gave off a thick gurgling slosh. I flung open the porthole to a rush of hot sticky air. “Shit.”
Worry gripped me as I realized that the reverberating power in my middle felt suddenly strange.
It tightened and turned, as if there were something inside me, like a writhing serpent trapped in a bag.
The ship gave another steep tilt, and I moved to the floor to shove my feet into my boots.
I lunged for the door; pulled on the handle. It didn’t give.
“Lachlan!” I slammed my fist into the door. Another steep pitch and tilt, a loud creak. I slid down to my knees. “Let me out!”
There came no answer. Only the cacophony of sailors’ thudding and calls on the other side of my cabin door, the drum of hurried bodies on the deck above me.
The heat was suddenly unbearable. Sweat trickled down my temples and made my shirt stick to my skin.
I crawled my way back to the door and clung to the handle. “Lachlan.”
Finally, I heard him yell from the other side. “Bleeding Gods—it’s not easy… getting the key in the lock… when the ship—”
The door finally swung open. Lachlan’s hazel eyes were wide. I was crouched on the floor, holding on to the cot as it threatened to slide into me. “What in the hell is going on?”
He shook his head, his legs and arms braced between the door jamb. “I was just trying to get onto the upper deck to find out.”
We went together then, fighting against the sliding, grasping hammocks for balance, and all the while that uncomfortable twisting filled my stomach. When we finally reached the hatch and climbed up onto the main deck, my every sense was assailed by the waywardness of the world.
Strange, dirty yellow light lit the whole sky as it churned with quick-moving clouds. The air blew completely sideways, then shifted unnaturally fast. One moment it blew against my chest, the next my back. The sails above rattled and snapped, and sailors around me were frantic trying to right them.
I fought my way toward the ship’s rail and peered down.
There was no white foam on the water’s sloshing peaks; instead it looked black and viscous, glistening in the sallow light, dreamlike.
It was as if we’d been dragged into a mirrored realm, preternatural and surreal, but it was my body that felt the most anomalous.
The thrum of my power had faded behind that unsettling writhing, and now, out here in the choking hot air, it felt precisely like there was something inside me.
“Lachlan…” In the very near distance, I could make out a wall of towering rocks, cutting through the water like monstrous black fangs. “Is that…”
Lachlan gripped the rail as the ship tilted sharply. “That’s Anthemoessa’s outer reef.”
We’d arrived. The most westerly island of the Leucosian archipelago, and the lost seat of my mother’s—now my—queendom.
The island Eusia had blighted and was said to be impossible to access.
That fragile determination that I’d tried to strengthen earlier, that I’d held like eggshells in my palm, turned to something solid now.
Agatha was stuck in this terrifying place, perhaps alone, or injured, or worse. Getting to her was all that mattered.
The dark mist and strange light blocked the main island from sight, and I could not help but marvel at the fact that magic had done all this. It was terrible and frightening and was clearly capable of accomplishing feats that Gods’ power could not.
Sailors scrambled and secured themselves to the ship with ropes around their waists.
I took my loose hair and began braiding it down my back. “Make sure that Theodore is safe.” Lachlan still clung to the rail, a questioning look on his face. “I’m going to find Agatha. Stay with him. Don’t let him out of your sight.”
“I’m not letting you look for her without me.”
“I’m not going to let you die when we’re this close,” I fired back, eyes riveted on the ominous outline of the outer reef.
I focused on my power, on the wind and the sea, but I couldn’t sense my hold over them in the least. The elements around us were not tied to me—they felt tied to Eusia and her magic.
Before Lachlan could protest again, the captain’s voice rang out. “Your Majesty, no. Back in your cabin now! It’s too dangerous.”
I whirled to see Theodore striding across the deck in the same black suit he’d worn the night before, though now it was rumpled, its collar undone. His face was etched with purpose, his strides long and sure, as he made for the hatch that led to the lower deck.
Just before he reached it, the ship took another violent tilt, sweeping him off his feet.
One moment, I beheld him; the next, he was gone. “Theo—”
Sailors shouted. The wind screamed. Lachlan had secured his own tether to the ship’s rail and tried to slide across the slanted deck toward where Theodore had disappeared. But I was already halfway there.
Grabbing hold of a snapped length of rigging, I half slid, half crawled past the girth of the large center mast, past the opening of the hatch, when I saw him.
Clinging to a length of rope that circled the next mast. I gripped the lattice of the scuttle hatch and slowly inched my way down to him.
If he fumbled his grip, he would slide into the angry black water.
“Don’t you dare let go,” I yelled down to him.
He looked up sharply, jaw clamped with strain. “Wasn’t planning to.”
Another strong gust sent the ship slanting even steeper.
I tightened my hold on the lattice and did my best to knot the rigging I held around the large cleat that was anchored nearby.
“Catch this rope, Theo, or I swear to the Gods, I’ll use a spell to bring you back from the dead so I can kill you myself. ”
He smirked up at me, just as the rope he clung to began to slip. He grunted, the toes of his boots scraping over the deck as he scrambled for purchase.
“Theo.” The rigging was secured. I readied it in my hand and threw it toward him.