The first to fall.
“No!” Niya grabbed his arm, steadying him. “Stand up and fight back! Why will you not fight back?”
“Because,” said Alōs, displaying crimson-covered teeth with his wicked grin, “you were hardly ever a proper opponent to begin with. How many times have I bested you now?” He gripped her wrist hard, raising her binding bet between them. “I’m starting to lose count.”
Niya growled her frustration, shoving him away.
“Tell me, Chief.” Alōs turned to the old giant. “What seasoning will you use on the female when you cook her?”
The chief’s grin was ear to ear. “Oh, she looks like she’d be good spicy.”
“Right you are,” agreed Alōs. “But you see, I’ve tasted her and can also attest to her sweetness.”
All thought drained from Niya, her gaze tingeing red as she charged him, spin kicking Alōs across the face.
Alōs’s head snapped back, but his returning smile was maddening as he wiped the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, only to lick it from his finger. “And I suggest you save her most ample bits for last,” he went on, staring straight at her. “I could have savored her breasts for sand falls.”
“You bastard!” Niya’s vision warped, pulling in all her magic to converge into her booted foot as it connected with his chest.
Alōs soared, landed on his back, and stayed there.
The room exploded in cheers as the faint sound of the chief’s voice declaring her the victor filled her whirring head.
Niya blinked, her rapid anger knocked away as the reality of the situation slammed down upon her like boulders from a mountaintop.
“Alōs!” She ran to him.
His face was cut and bleeding, one eye already swelling shut as she cradled his head in her lap. Niya had done this to him. Claws of guilt gripped her throat, threatening to strangle it closed.
“Why?” demanded Niya, her voice breaking. “Why did you not fight back?”
Alōs’s one good eye locked on hers, the center of a flame still burning. “Because, fire dancer, how do you fight someone who is no longer your enemy?”
It was as if someone had squeezed her heart so it could no longer beat.
“But we were meant to.” Niya shook him in frustration. “You forced us to.”
Alōs’s pained features softened. “Yes, and it was far more important that you win.”
Win.
The word felt gross and heavy. This was no win. Everything about this screamed loss.
“You are more valuable on this plane than I, fire dancer.” Alōs touched her cheek, and she leaned into the soft caress, so different than her pounding fists. “Your sisters need you. The Thief King needs you. I could not allow the Mousai to end this night.”
“You fool,” she cried. It was as if the very air around Niya were drowning her. “This is not the time for you to become a martyr. What of the Crying Queen? Esrom? We can run. Fight. Now, we can—”
“No.” Alōs trapped her shaking hands, which had begun to glow. His gaze darted to the giants, who were moving in around them. “You must find control. If you show you have gifts, they certainly will not let you leave. Deal or no.”
“I don’t care!”
“Listen to me, Niya,” Alōs said, speaking past her. “If there’s one thing I ask of you, it’s that you finish this. Take the pieces back to Esrom and finish it.”
Everything inside her was cracking and shattering. “Alōs, stop—”
“Kintra knows what to do once there. She will be captain now. Do you understand? I know you still do not forgive me for what I have done to you, and I will take that to the Fade, but please say you will do this for me.”
Niya’s vision blurred, but she refused to let a single tear fall. “I do forgive you, Alōs. I do. But we will both take it back to Esrom.”
“Stubborn until the very end.” He smiled before wincing in pain.
Niya’s heart clenched as she wiped strands of hair from his face. “I refuse to have this end this way.”
“Then let us remember it differently.”
Alōs pulled Niya down to him and kissed her, his other hand gripping her hip. He tasted like iron, but Niya didn’t care about the blood, because she also knew he tasted like the first cool glimpse of stars at night, the piercing white dusting of infinite possibilities.
Niya realized in a horrible desperation that a world without Alōs Ezra would be a terrible one. A boring one. And if there was one thing Niya despised most, it was boring.
Large, rough hands pulled them apart. Niya was pushed into a cage.
“Thank you for visiting us here on Hallowed Island,” said the chief as she was lifted. “It was most entertaining.”
Niya pressed against the glass, staring down at Alōs bleeding on the stone floor far below.
“Finish it!” he called to her. “Finish it and be free.”
And then all Niya could see were the backs of giants as she was carried away, and her surroundings ceased to have meaning.
Niya was deposited at the edge of the jungle.
She didn’t even know if it was the right part of the island.
Nor did she care.
Her entire body was overtaken with rage. Desperation. Anguish. Her magic swam dark. Go back, her powers coerced. Let us see how tasty their meat is. I bet it burns easy. I bet it burns bright.
Enough! she silently commanded.
The only thing keeping her from obeying was the lump in her pocket. She had felt Alōs place it there when they’d kissed, his last graze of fingers against her hips.
Stumbling through brush, she stepped onto the beach and collapsed in the cool sand, pulling the stone free.
The last piece of the Prism Stone felt small and insignificant in her palm. The dark red matched the dried blood staining her shirtsleeve. Alōs’s blood.
She looked into the creeping dawn on the horizon, a barely discernible speck of a ship in the distance.
Finish this.
Alōs’s last words seemed to echo in the crashing waves hitting shoreline and the boat that had been left there.
Finish this.
And be free.
Niya would.
But not yet.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Niya’s hands ached as she climbed the ladder on the side of the Crying Queen, leaving her rowboat tied and fighting the waves that smacked against the side below.
“They’re back!” called Bree to the rest of the crew as Niya landed on the foredeck.
“Where’s the cap’n?” asked Boman.
“Did you see any giants?” questioned Therza.
“Did you get back what the cap’n needed?” wondered Green Pea.
Niya answered none of the pirates as her gaze momentarily met Kintra’s above her on the quarterdeck, before she strode past the group toward the captain’s quarters.
“Keep back, rats,” instructed Kintra behind Niya. “I’ll get all the gossip to satisfy your appetite.”
Niya pushed through the door at the end of the dark hall, only to stop as the lingering sensation of Alōs’s magic enveloped her. The cool threads danced over her body. Covered everything in the room. A chilled whisper of power. Mine.
Niya hated how comforting that whisper now felt. How it brought welcome goose bumps to her skin, followed by sharp dread.
Niya forced herself forward, rounding Alōs’s desk. The early sunrise streamed through the paned glass at her back, painting the wood in a honey finish.
“Where is he?” Kintra stood in the doorway, watching as Niya fumbled to open his locked drawers. “What’s happened?”
“We were caught. He’s to be eaten.”
“What?” Kintra shut the door behind her.
“I know you have the keys to this.” Niya kicked the sturdy desk in frustration. Her magic couldn’t do so much as loosen a hinge.
“Niya, stop,” said Kintra, approaching.
“You don’t understand!” Her gaze swung to the quartermaster. “We don’t have much time. I must get help.”
“Get help?” Kintra frowned. “Look around. We are help.”
“Pirates will not help here. We need magic. A lot of magic.” Niya strode to the bookshelf, pulling out spines, searching behind them.
“By the stars and sea, will you stop?”
Only because she had never heard Kintra raise her voice before did Niya obey.