“Selfish?” Julian’s face grew cold, and a shiver ran up Noa’s back. “Believe me, I’d love to have the time to be selfish once in a while. But I don’t, and I haven’t since Mother died. All I have time for is this.” He gestured at the tower filled with grimoires and experiments. “And if I happen to enjoy giving Xavier’s followers what they deserve, why is that so wrong?” He laughed. “If I am being haunted by the ghosts of Xavier’s loyal subjects, then I say: good. I hope they enjoy watching me send their companions to join them in the Beyond.”
Noa didn’t know what to say. Julian had never looked less like the old Julian, his eyes hard and glittering, and the amusement in his face turned into something dark and ominous as distant thunder.
Mite ducked under the table with a whimper. Julian let out a long breath. “Maita, it’s all right.” He helped her out. “Noa, please pass your sister the bread. How about we practice making toast? Do you remember the spell for that?”
Noa passed the bread, trying not to let her hand shake. What she had seen in Julian’s eyes frightened her more than any ghost. What was she going to do? She was convinced more than ever that her secret mission was in shambles.
There came a pounding on the door. Julian stalked over and wrenched it open, revealing a sodden Renne.
“What happened?” Julian said sharply. For it was clear that something had—Renne was pale and wild-eyed, and seaweed clung to the hem of his cloak.
“It’s Beauty,” he said without preamble. “She’s in a frenzy, and none of us can calm her down. She’s claiming someone stole her child.”
18
Noa Goes Hunting
When they got to the low cliff overlooking the water, all they could see was a whirlpool bubbling amid the crashing waves.
“Beauty!” Julian called. He dashed his wet hair from his face. He hadn’t bothered to don his already sodden cloak, and he looked tall and sharp-angled framed against the storm. “Show yourself.”
The bubbles grew larger. Then Beauty surfaced, or rather her tail did—it struck the cliffside, causing Renne to topple into the water.
Julian lashed out his arm, calling out a spell in Salt, and a wave lifted Renne back onto the cliff, fortunately with all his limbs.
“Do that again and I’ll see that you regret it,” Julian said in a voice like a knife’s edge. He murmured something in Marrow and Salt, the two languages he had used to bind Beauty to the island. Before he could finish, though, Beauty’s head surfaced. Her eyes were so wide there was a ring of white around the black, and her body shook. She was so large that the sea itself seemed to tremble.
“Foolish, evil boy,” she spat in a voice that was nothing like her usual dulcet tones. “You’re responsible for this. You took my freedom, and now—” She let out a horrible roar and lunged forward with her jaws snapping a foot from Julian’s head. He put his hands out and forced her back down with a lash of magic that made the ground tremble, his body braced as if against a fierce wind.
“Noa, go back to the castle,” Julian barked over his shoulder. Noa glared at him. She slunk back a few feet, but no farther.
“Beauty,” he said, “control yourself, or I’ll do it for you. I’ve been generous enough not to keep you on a chain, my monster. That will change if you don’t behave.”
“Oh, yes,” Beauty hissed. “Yes, that’s next. Go ahead, black-hearted child. Chain me, torture me, I care not. Nothing compares to the loss of my daughter.”
Noa started forward. “You have a daughter?” She ignored Julian’s thunderous look and stepped to the edge of the cliff. “Why have we never seen her?”
Beauty snarled. “She was born only days ago. I planned to tell no one, certainly not any of you Marchenas. The wicked king would have her on a leash alongside her mother. No, I planned to raise her until she was old enough to escape.”
“That’s why you’ve been hiding under the island,” Noa murmured. “Then—then it’s not because you’re plotting against Julian?”
Beauty struck the cliffside, hurling her entire body against it this time. Noa stumbled and would have fallen if Julian hadn’t caught her.
“What do I care about the lives of human kings?” she snarled. “My daughter . . . They stole my daughter. . . .”
After I take it from him, we’ll watch his defenses crumble. Noa drew a sharp breath. Xavier hadn’t been planning to steal the Lost Words.
He had meant Beauty’s child.
“Who took her?” Noa shouted over the waves churned up by Beauty and the storm.
“One of his enemies.” Beauty shot Julian a look of pure hatred. “That raven-haired witch. He’s turned my child into a pawn in his wicked schemes. Oh, my daughter, my daughter . . .”
Dread settled in Noa’s stomach. She felt Julian freeze, his hand tightening painfully on her arm.
“Gabriela.” Her voice was hoarse. “How did she take your daughter?”
“I know not. I only saw her leave, heading north. She took my child and sailed beyond the edge of my tether, and I couldn’t follow.”
“Get every able-bodied sailor into a boat with a salt mage,” Julian snapped at Renne. His face was white and his gaze was as cold as it had been in the tower. “Gabriela can’t have gone far in this weather.”
“There’s a slight problem,” Renne said. “We don’t know which boat is hers. We spotted six of them, each heading in a different direction—as they retreated from the island, they turned their fog lights on. They wanted us to know they were there, and that they were using decoys.”
Julian cursed. Then he said, “It doesn’t matter. I’ll sink them all.”
“No,” Noa said. “Julian, you can’t. Those boats will be full of sailors who are just following orders. You can’t—”
“Noa, go back to
