I take a sip. Sweet, fruity. And then I hand it back.
The music has died in the courtyard below. It seems a lone harpist struck a few chords, and everyone turns toward him. The dancing stills. The loud singing vanishes.
It’s merely the harp.
And a song so bittersweet that my heart squeezes, even though I don’t know why.
“The Lament of the Golden Dawn,” Thalis says, closing her eyes and leaning into the music. “The last dance of Araya of Evantine.”
Thiago’s mother.
It’s so beautiful. So heartfelt. Faelights flicker to life as the fae in the streets below lift their hands and conjure them. A sea of flickering lights fills the night. These people loved her.
I reach for him, just a psychic brush against his mind, full of warmth and love.
His touch is a mental squeeze—a silent thanks.
A soft hum echoes in Thalia’s throat, and the sound…. Sweet Maia, it almost seems as though she’s hitting two different pitches at the one time. There’s something slightly mournful about the music, and the next wave that strikes the sea wall crashes up the beach, further than it’s ever been, foam chasing toward us as if it can hear her call.
She breaks off with a sigh and smiles a little sadly at me. “Once I could have sung the waves into the city itself if I wished.”
I know she bartered the magic of her voice to a sea witch, but beyond that, my memories of Thalia are still vague. “Why did you give it away?”
Turning her gaze towards the sea, she unconsciously pets the stone wall. “Because it was both my gift and my curse. The saltkissed are creatures of the sea, formed of foam and water and cold, marble flesh. And the fae are bound to the land. Every year I aged, I could feel the choice splitting me in two. The sea called to me, but I was frightened to answer it.” She tilts her face into the spray of mist as another wave hits the sea wall. “My grandmother spent too many years beating that fear into me.”
I squeeze her hand.
“The was a fae prince from the Far Isles who wished to make an alliance with Thiago over a century ago.” She hesitates. “The second he heard me sing, he insisted upon marriage. I was young, and it was the first time a male had looked at me and seen something of worth.” She falls quiet. “I wanted to believe him when he said he loved me. Thiago warned me against it—he said I barely knew the prince—but I accepted the marriage proposal.”
I wait for her to continue.
“Prince Riu invited me to his palace in the Far Isles for our courtship.” Thalia sighs. “There were little things that began to make me uncomfortable. He used to talk of his ‘collection’ all the time. He had the finest collection of musical instruments I’ve ever seen. The finest paintings. An entire menagerie of nightingales. ‘Sing for me,’ he would say, and at first I obliged willingly, for I loved to sing. But over time, my throat grew sore and tired. I begged to take the night off, but he would grow angry. He struck me once, and that was when I knew I had made a foolish mistake.
“But he wasn’t the only one listening. There was a sea witch who lived in the nearby waters, and she warned me that I wasn’t the first bride Riu had taken—and nor would I be the last. His gift was the ability to absorb another’s magic, but it was a hungry gift. If he did not utilize it, then his flesh would begin to age. Every time I sang, he would feed off the power in my voice, and it didn’t matter if my vocal cords were bleeding, he would demand more. He’d captured the witch’s sister a hundred years before and stolen her life before he dumped her withered body in the seas.
“Give me your voice, she told me, and I will go to Riu in your guise and break his hold over you.” Thalia falls silent. “And I was desperate and thought myself alone—and so I gave her my voice.”
“And did she free you?”
“She went to him,” Thalia says coldly. “And she tore the heart from his chest and ate it, for she too had a hungry power. And now she sits on his throne and rules his lands and sings with my voice. And she keeps the offspring of his nightingales in golden cages to remind herself of where she came from.”
I don’t ask whether she tried to get her voice back. Of course she did. It’s a part of her, and I know that yearning for your magic. It’s like an amputated limb.
“I’m so sorry. Maybe once my mother is defeated, we can sail to her lands and get it back for you—”
“Thank you.” Thalia looks down at where our hands are linked. “Thiago has already tried, Vi. The sea witch could not take my magic from me—it had to be given freely. And thus, if I were to hope for its return, then the terms must be the same. She must give it of her own volition.”
“Everyone wants something,” I point out. “We just have to find out what she wants in return for it.”
Thalia gives me a tremulous smile—but there’s none of her usual light in it. “Thank you. For the thought.”
It’s more than a thought, but I don’t say that. If I can break my mother’s hold over me, then I can do anything.
And if there’s any means to return Thalia’s gift, then I will find it.
Hours later, I finally stumble into Thiago’s arms, begging for mercy.
“No more!” I tell Thalia when she tries to lure me back into the streets again. “No more!”
She pouts, but then turns and throws her arms around Finn.
“Here’s trouble,” Finn says, but he grins and swings Thalia into the air. She’s insatiable. And though
