29. Tropical Cyc（lone）
Tropical Cyc(lone)
“No,” I said.
He shrugged casually and winked. “It made thee feel safer, so I let thee electrocute me. Day and night. Every—single—time. Diamonds dampen our power, but I am not an average Royal Mage . . . Breaking this toy takes an infinitesimal amount of my will.”
Cloying emotions clawed at my throat.
“I do not have some storm magic,” he said with pride. “I am the reigning Emperor of the Draconis Empire. I am the storm.”
“Stop talking!”
“Thou never had the upper hand, Ravenal,” he said. “The power was always mine. I told thee to leave the North because I knew thou would join the Crimson Army—and we could finally be together!”
“No.”
“I let thee stab me in the forest,” he said with terrifying calm. “I pretended to be incapacitated . . . I let thee pose for that portrait. Everything I have done was on purpose to be with thee.”
It was as I’d suspected, and yet so much worse. His machinations were beyond comprehension.
“You’re vile.”
“Close—but not exact.” He shrugged. “Same letters but a different word. Thou know exactly what I am, dearest.”
“EVIL,” I screamed with all my might.
“Only thou know me so well, Ravenal. Thou see me for who I am.” He clutched his heart like it was romantic.
I quickly sent a deluge of ocean at his half of the ship, trying to catch him unawares.
He flung his hands up. Boom. A huge bomb-like gust of wind exploded from him. Thrown with the water, I went flying off the ship, up into the storm. Oldgodsaveme, he’s now at full power.
Flailing, I raised my arms as I was flung through the air. Squire screeched, holding on to my braid. I gestured frantically down at the choppy sea.
Water rose up in a frothing mass, surrounding me in a metallic blue vortex. It held me upright, hovering in the sky.
Aleksander shouted my name. Jumping up, he deftly climbed the mast of the sinking ship, up the pole to the crow’s nest, far faster than any man should have been able to move. His every action defied gravity.
With magic thundering through my veins, I pointed my hands at him.
A jet of ocean torpedoed toward him. He batted it aside playfully. I leaned forward, and water propelled me straight toward him.
Crash.
We collided, my fists pummeling him. He held on to me with his hand cradling the back of my head, fingers tangled gently in my hair.
We spun through the air and skidded across the pier. He clutched me protectively, his back taking the brunt of the impact. A dragon hoarding his prey.
We came to a stop, half the wooden pier shattered, water lapping below us. He rolled so he was on top, his heated skin burning where he pressed flush against me.
“My Ravenal.” He held my head like I would break, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead as his heart pounded in sync with mine. His magic wrapped around us in a tender embrace.
I punched him in the jaw.
He brought his thumb to his mouth and slowly wiped away a droplet of blood. “Divine,” he said quietly. “That felt exquisite . . . Do it again, please, my valiant Knight. Hit me!”
Emotions welled up that I should not have been feeling. I scrambled out of his tempting, depraved arms.
I waved my hands. Ocean water rose up and crashed down where he lay on the half-broken pier. He sputtered, drenched to the bone.
I staggered to my feet, backing away. A migraine split my skull. Warmth dripped down my face, and I brought my hands up to my nose. My fingers came back covered in blood.
I stumbled with dizziness, barely catching myself.
Aleksander focused on my bleeding nose. The scent of his magic sharpened, shadows darkening around him.
“Thou art overexerting yourself. Cease fighting me. Thou need platinum to strengthen your magic—”
“Where is she?” I cut him off. “Where is my mother?” The tide receded as the ocean rose in a tsunami, and copper flooded my mouth as I lifted the water up higher, then slammed it down atop him.
He lazily flicked his finger, and his wind redirected the entire mass down onto the pier between us. Posts exploded, splintering away.
He stood on the intact section close to the land; I was on a detached plank, drifting out to sea. Balancing on the churning waves, I struggled to stay upright with my glowing hands in a defensive position.
Wetness poured from my ears, down onto my arms—more blood. It sputtered off my lips, dripping from my nose as I gasped for air.
Aleksander watched me with wide, panicked eyes.
I hurled more ocean, but it never touched him. It just mixed with his wind, becoming a silver blur that rose up in the air. Dark clouds spun above our heads.
Gale-force winds twisted with ocean water and spiraled above us in a growing hurricane. Chunks of detritus fell from the sky. The flying projectiles were everywhere.
The force of our magic was unfathomable. It felt cataclysmic.
“Zora, is we in a hurricane?” Squire asked as he clung desperately to my shoulder, wings flapping for purchase. My blood had splattered across his tawny face.
“No, darling. I think . . . we are the hurricane.”
“ZORA!” Aleksander bellowed over the churning tempest. He stalked down the broken pier toward me. I was floating away. “I order thee to stop hurting yourself and come back with—”
I sent more ocean at him. With a dismissive wave, he flicked it away like it was a nuisance. The water slammed into the forest, felling full-sized trees with a loud, cracking boom.
“Stop telling me what to do,” I said, spitting out blood. Oh nice, I’m also internally bleeding.
His expression darkened, and silver flames shot angrily off his shoulders.
I wobbled on my plank of wood and fell to my knees, coughing violently; scarlet splattered my splayed hands. Squire hooted with distress as I choked.
Wiping at my blurry eyes, I registered with horror that blood was also dripping from my lashes. Magical exhaustion. My chest spasmed. The plank rocked. I grabbed the edges and barely remained on top as I was nearly swept into the roaring ocean.
CREAK.
A familiar silver shield shimmered around me.
“My Zora,” Aleksander shouted with concern. We shouldn’t have been able to hear each other with the tempest raging all around, but each word was crystal clear like he was standing directly beside me.
Encased in his shield, the plank beneath me groaned unnaturally as it defied gravity, slowly rising out of and above the churning seawater. Aleksander pointed his finger.
The wood beneath me creaked loudly as I ascended, propelled by his magic. Higher he sent me, up into the roiling clouds. Wind and water bounced off his metallic barrier.
Quiet descended. Soaked to the bone, teeth chattering, shivering, bleeding out of my orifices, I curled into the fetal position.
This is too much. Vision narrowing, I gagged with nausea.
I can’t do it. Sounds diminished further.
Everything hurt. I was nothing but a sack of brittle bones and throbbing flesh.
“Let spider help?” Squire hooted as he tugged desperately on my braid. “Me get him?”
Yes.
He’ll take care of me.
“No,” I croaked out, shaking the treacherous thoughts away.
“Why not?” Squire asked with confusion. “Zora sick.”
Because I’m not a coward.
Groaning, I coughed up seawater, choking on snot that tasted like iron. As I shifted to sit up, my arms gave out beneath me.
I will not betray myself.
A dozen agonizing tries later, I finally staggered up to my feet.
“We need spider!” Squire flapped in front of my face, his eyes wide and nervous.
I shook my aching head at him sadly. “No, darling, I can help myself.”
Knees aching, I balanced precariously on the floating platform, swallowing down bile. It felt like my organs were unraveling as I barely held my ground.
Rule of survival: Make your own luck, lucky woman.
Aleksander stood on the edge of the pier, frowning up at me. Lines of silver glowed across his skin. “It does not have to be this way between us.” His voice strummed with gentle sincerity, sharp canines flashing as he spoke. “Please, let me help thee . . . Thou art mine to care for—”
“I belong to no man.”
And I will complete my quest.
Roughly I dragged trembling hands down my face, wiping away blood, sweat, mucus, and the lingering cowardice.
“Princess,” he said tenderly, pity in his eyes. “I am not a man.”
Silver lines glowed brighter on his skin.
The intricate circular tattoo on his back spun and rolled around to his front. The cobalt spider crawled across his jaw, up his face, around his eyes, alive. It disappeared down onto his back. His bare face was devastatingly handsome.
The silver butterfly flapped delicately on his lower stomach, and tiny butterflies flew up and around it.
Something was happening to the platinum on his body. His cuffs, his earrings—it all melted. Turning to a metallic liquid, it fanned out behind him, forming a nearly translucent shape.
Gossamer platinum wings flapped as he lifted off the ground, flying up into the air until he hovered a short distance in front of me. A hurricane swirled above our heads, and the ocean raged beneath us, but the world was eerily quiet. Apocalyptic.
“Your ancestors worshipped my ancestor as a god while we mined the platinum together, but he—we—never died. We simply retreated back to Azote after their betrayal. They ruined Antichthon with their misguided technologies.”
Air whistled from my open mouth as the old tales mixed together. There was a lost, ancient god with platinum wings and stories of immortal species who wielded magic.
“Zora, the man scary,” Squire hooted as he held on to my wet braid, trying to hide. “He large spider-bird.”
I nodded absently in agreement as Aleksander raised his hand toward me, his magical wings flapping elegantly behind him.
“I am the Sovereign Divine Emperor of the Storm Fae,” he said with royal gravitas. “There is no rightful Commonwealth in the Antichthon realm. There are only the Storm Fae and the lesser species. Please, stop hurting yourself and let me explain everything to thee over a warm meal.”
Storm Fae?
Lesser species?
“My full High Fae name is unspeakable to humans—so Aleksander is what thou call me.”
He said humans like he was referring to something disgusting.
It hit me like a punch to the face. Mom called them fairy’s tales . . . It never made sense, because she must have meant Faerie’s Tales. She knew and was trying to tell me. Mom’s journal. The strange language was High Fae. The symbols were their magic.
In a trance, I extended my hand out toward his.
Aleksander’s lethal expression softened further. “Thou art not my enemy, syxzal. Thou art mine to worship.” He pulled his arm back, and I started to float toward him as if his magic was connected to mine by an invisible string.
This wasn’t about politics like I’d always been taught.
The mortifying ordeal of knowing the truth.
The war wasn’t Draconis Empire versus Democratic Commonwealth.
It was Storm Fae versus humans, and it was clear from the way he spoke that he viewed humans as lesser.
It didn’t matter if I shared fae blood. I was raised by a kind human woman who would never hurt a fly.
The exact kind of person he didn’t respect.
“Hold on tight, darling,” I whispered to Squire. “Look away.”
My scalp stung as he swiveled his beak, scratching my neck.
Gathering the last of my courage, I nodded. Aleksander’s otherworldly expression twisted with shadows, glittering platinum wings beating faster as he read the intention on my face.
“You’re wrong. Your ancestor is not my god.
” I brought my hand up above my head. “Never surrender to tyrants.” I raised a single finger, then brought my hands together, clasped atop my wildly beating heart, and bowed my head.
Mom had taught me hope was proof of the divine.
“Never make a second of peace with evil,” I said the most sacred prayer, feeling naked in my previous foolishness as blood gushed down my chin. The war was always in the spirit.
“Don’t thou dare hurt your—”
I jumped back off the floating plank, out of his shield, flipping through the air. “I will defeat you, Aleksander,” I whispered, held together by a solid anchor, my soul, the indomitable human spirit, the only real thing in this illusory world full of monsters.
“ZORA,” he screamed as he tried to fly forward, but water threw him backward. “MY SYXZAL!”
I plummeted face-first, hurtling downward through the hurricane. Willing the ocean to meet me, I reached for it with both hands.
Magic pulled me with impossible speed straight into the churning darkness of sudden cognitive awareness. Everything I’d ever imagined was real, in the worst way possible.
Splash.
Bubbles exploded as I sank into the inky depths, one thought repeating on a tormented, grateful, cursed loop:
I want to complete my quest.