Dorian’s eye snapped to the shore just in time to see Jasper’s multicolored feathers disappear beneath the surface of the water as pale, webbed fingers pulled him under.
Dorian was in the water before he’d even given it thought. As he broke the surface, his heart sang with the feel of water against his skin. He had always been more at home in rivers and seas than on dry land, and this time, when the moat’s water called to him, he answered. He could hear Echo shouting after him. Dorian hoped good sense prevented her from doing something stupid, like jumping in after him. He could only save so many drowning fools at the same time.
The water was deeper than it looked from shore, and dark. The darkness muted Jasper’s amethyst and gold feathers as he churned the water around him in his struggle. Pale bodies, propelled by muscular, fishlike tails, pulled Jasper farther into the moat’s depths. Dorian swam toward him, cutting through the water as if he’d been born to swim rather than walk.
The nix had Jasper by the arms and legs, their sallow hands so bright in the inky blackness that they seemed to glow. Jasper’s movements slowed, and the bubbles that rose as he tried to hold his breath petered out into a pathetic trickle. Dorian pushed himself even harder. He was nearly there; if Jasper could hold on for a few seconds more, they might both get out of this moat alive.
A single nix surged up to block his way, but it kept its hands—and, more important, the wicked spear it held—to itself. Dorian attempted to go around it, but it moved in front of him, keeping itself between Dorian and Jasper. The nix pointed toward Jasper with its spear before gesturing at Dorian with its free hand. When the nix spoke, it was not with words, but as a whisper in Dorian’s mind.
We chose him. He is ours now.
Dorian may have been at home in the water, but speaking while submerged in it was a challenge, even for him. His garbled “What?” was more bubble than sound.
He—the nix jabbed its spear toward Jasper again—belongs—it punctuated the next words with two thuds of the blunt side of the spear against Dorian’s chest—to us.
I don’t understand, Dorian thought, hoping the nix’s telepathic speech was a two-way street.
We demand a gift in exchange for safe passage, the nix said. We have chosen him.
Dorian had forgotten about that part of nix behavior. There was always a godsdamn sacrifice. His chest tightened in a way that had nothing to do with his rapidly depleting supply of oxygen.
The nix’s voice boomed in Dorian’s head. Unless there is something else you would like to offer us?
Jasper had gone limp in the nix’s hands, feathers swaying as he drifted deeper into the moat. Dorian couldn’t leave Jasper to them. He had been kind when Dorian had been cruel. He had reminded Dorian what it was like to be loved. To love.
Take me, Dorian thought. Spare him.
The nix’s lips stretched over rows of viciously sharp teeth, sloppy with bits of meat and bone, in a gleeful snarl.
No, the nix said. It spun away from Dorian, swimming back toward Jasper.
Wait. Dorian pushed the thought toward the retreating nix.
The nix paused, slowly turning back toward Dorian. His chest burned. He had to surface soon, but he would not leave this moat without Jasper. There was no alternative. If the nix wouldn’t take him, then they both died here and Echo would go on without them. She could save Caius; she had magic that Dorian did not.
I’ll give you whatever you want, Dorian thought desperately. Just tell me what you want.
The nix unleashed its gruesome grin again. Something that costs you dearly. Something you aren’t eager to give up. Something precious. Give me a truth. One you don’t want to admit, even to yourself. The truth is far more precious than gold and jewels.
Dorian’s lungs screamed for air. I don’t want to lose him.
The nix angled its head to one side. Is that all?
Jasper was going to die if Dorian didn’t reach him soon, but the nix was right. The truth came at a steep price. Dorian had held on to his hate for so long that admitting that Jasper—an Avicen—mattered to him had felt like losing a part of himself. But he remembered the kiss, their first one, that they’d shared at Avalon. He remembered how it felt to pull away from Jasper after Caius was taken. It had felt like an amputation, a severing of something that had been critical to his existence.
I care about him, he thought. I didn’t want to, but he’s…different. Special.
The nix seemed to measure Dorian’s response for a moment. Dorian’s lungs burned. Not good enough, said the creature. Without another word, it gave a powerful heave of its tail and turned, following its brethren deeper into the water.
Dorian opened his mouth to shout, but all that escaped him were bubbles. Panic rose, heady and hot, in his chest, supplanting even the desperate need for air. Stop. He propelled himself after the nix, oxygen-deprived muscles aching.
Stop! Dorian cried as loud as he could with his mind’s voice. His vision blackened at the edges. His body was losing the fight for consciousness. But he couldn’t leave without Jasper. He wouldn’t.
The nix didn’t stop.
Dorian sagged, limbs heavy, body leaden.
I love him.
The nix with whom he’d spoken flicked its tail and slowed.
But that wasn’t all. Love wasn’t what frightened Dorian. It was everything that came with it, the vulnerability, the helplessness. But love wasn’t love without those things. I need him.
Tail churning water, the nix turned with the leisure of a creature that didn’t need air to survive.
Dorian felt as though he was slipping to a place beyond pain. His lungs still burned, but it was a distant ache, like it was happening to someone else. He makes me better. Before him, I wasn’t…good. I was governed by hate and fear and pain, but he saw me. He saw me even when I couldn’t see myself. I was a fool and I blinded myself to it, but I know now. He is mine and I am his and you cannot have him.
The nix’s lips pulled into a grotesque grin. That cost you much to say. It waved the spear at its brethren. As one, they released their hold on Jasper. Dorian swam around the nix to catch Jasper before he sank any deeper. He linked his arms around Jasper’s chest and kicked with all his might, straining to swim as his oxygen-starved muscles resisted movement.
When they broke the moat’s surface, Dorian’s chest heaved with deep, greedy breaths that burned all the way down. Jasper was limp in his arms, and Dorian tried not to consider the possibility that he might be dead.
Echo ran down the shore to meet them. She hauled Dorian out of the water with a strength he hadn’t known she possessed.
“Help him,” Dorian said, pushing Jasper’s unmoving body toward her. Jasper needed air; Dorian had none to give.