It’s a never-ending cycle of pain, and my poor Westerly shield starts to unravel. I could command it to re-form, but I know it’s not going to save me.
My attacker is too strong—too full of tricks and traps and schemes. I’ll never get out of this free, and I won’t let them take me. I’ve seen the horrors Raiden’s subjected the other Westerlies to, and I can’t let that happen to me. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to resist, and I won’t be the one to let the fourth language fall into Raiden’s hands.
Ending things now is the only way to protect the Westerly language, and what better chance will I have than in the cold, churning ocean?
Lost to the sea.
It’s one of the worst deaths a sylph can face.
Away from the sky.
Away from the air.
But the Westerly tongue will stay safe.
And at least I have a chance to say goodbye.
I rally my strength, and when the next wave slams me into the shore, I use the last of my energy to crawl forward a few extra feet. It won’t spare me for long, but it gives me the seconds I need to send one final message to Vane.
I uncoil my Westerly shield, wishing the draft felt faster and stronger. The sluggish wind won’t reach him for days, and in its weakened state it will only be able to hold two short words.
The last two words I’ll ever say.
“Love you” is on the tip of my tongue, but at the last second I change my mind.
Vane knows that.
I think he knew it before I did.
Besides, there’s only one thing I really want him to know.
One thing that might help him to hold it together when my echo—the part of me that will float on the breeze, telling him the story of what happened—reaching him.
Telling him I’m gone forever.
I add my words to the wind’s song and send the gust to the sky.
Then I close my eyes and wait for the water to wash me away.
CHAPTER 9
VANE
I
should be angry.
The woman who murdered my family and ruined Audra’s life is standing ten feet away, separated by only a thin wall of chains.
But when I look closer at her, all I feel is pity.
Arella used to be this gifted, powerful beauty.
Now she looks pale and greasy, her pants and tank top filthy and ripped, like the crazy homeless lady who hangs outside the grocery store muttering about people stealing her socks.
Still, I don’t like the way she’s pressed up against the chains, like she’s trying to get as close to me as she can. Whatever she thinks, she’s not going to be able to manipulate me. I won’t even give her the chance to try.
“I changed my mind,” I say, spinning around to find Os blocking the exit. “I can’t stay here.”
Os shakes his head. “You need to rest.”
“Then move Arella—”
“I can’t, Vane. I built the Maelstrom for her. It was the only way I could keep her contained.”
“They’re afraid of me,” Arella chimes in, laughing when I turn to glare at her. “But don’t worry, down here I’m completely useless.” She rattles the chains, her skinny arms flexing and straining. The metal barely wiggles. “See?”
Os marches toward her, stepping right in her face. “If you do anything to bother Vane, I will have the guard silence you. I’m sure you remember how unpleasant that was.”
“I do.” She says it with a slight smile, but her voice cracks and what little color she had seems to drain from her skin.
“Good.” Os gives me what I’m assuming is meant to be a reassuring smile as he says, “Rest well, Your Highness.”
Oh yeah, because nothing says “rest” like being locked up with a psychopath in a place too creepy to let normal people know about.
I try to look confident as he leaves, but everything inside me shudders when the weird mesh curtain latches closed, leaving me trapped underground with the devil woman.
I turn my back on her and study my tiny cell.
Stubby candles are set into the spinning walls to provide faint light, though their glow seems strange. It takes me a second to realize it’s because they don’t flicker. Their flames are solid and steady, and even when I blow on them nothing happens, like the air is swallowed as soon as it leaves my lips.
“Feels wrong, doesn’t it?” Arella whispers.
I ignore her, making my way to the pile of fluffy things and collapsing on my back.
I close my eyes, and they burn behind my eyelids, like they’re screaming at me for keeping them open too long.
I let out a slow breath, trying to relax.
“So it’s Your Highness now,” Arella says, refusing to be ignored. “Does that mean I should congratulate my daughter on being queen?”
Faster that I thought possible, I’m on my feet and across the room, slamming my fist against the chains. “There is nothing between me and Au—”
“Relax, Vane,” she whispers, leaning closer instead of backing away. Her breath smells like a rat crawled into her mouth and died as she tells me, “I haven’t told them about you two and I don’t intend to.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Of course there isn’t.”