Behind me, there’s a small, dull thwack. The magic lets me go, abruptly, and I crumple.
I look over my shoulder just in time to see that the watercrea is crumpling, too. Ale is in the doorway to his bedroom, an enormous book poised in midair, staring at the woman in the red gown like he’s still trying to process what, exactly, he just did.
Occhians don’t just charge at the watercrea and whack her with a book. Even I haven’t done that.
Ale meets my eyes.
“Run,” he says.
“You’re the one who should run,” I gasp out.
The watercrea is already on her feet again. Her magic grabs me and yanks me back toward the bedroom. I slam into Ale, and we both collapse onto his bedroom floor. She advances on us, and we scramble farther into the room on our hands and knees.
“Get out,” the watercrea says over our heads.
She’s talking to Ale’s mamma, whose forehead is pressed reverently to the carpet.
I wait for Ale’s mamma to start wailing and pleading for the life of her precious son. But she crawls into the hall, whimpering with terror, and the watercrea slams the door and whirls back around.
Everyone in this city is a coward. There are thousands of us, and only one watercrea. We shouldn’t let her do this to us.
“So,” the watercrea says, her breathing ragged and her hair mussed, “you’ve got your husband in on it, too. That’s fine. I’ll take you both to the tower.”
“Why do you get to decide if we live or die?” My voice is too loud, because I have to prove that I’m not afraid. “Just because you have magic—”
She turns her gaze on Ale, and he gasps and clutches at his face. Blood is dripping between his fingers. It’s pouring out of his nose.
I’m on my feet. I charge at the watercrea on pure instinct, and she stops me with her magic.
But Ale is free. He’s coughing and sputtering, but he’s stopped bleeding.
She can only use her magic on one person at a time. I wonder if she’s ever had two Occhians disobey her at once.
“You have no idea what it takes to keep this city alive.” She spits the words. “How dare you question me. What do you think you know that I don’t? What makes you think you deserve anything other than the time I’ve allowed you? Your blood is worth more to this city than your life.”
She’s wrong. My life is worth something, and I control it. Not her. Not my omen.
Ale stumbles to his feet and reaches for me, which distracts her. The moment I’m free from the magic, I lunge at the watercrea. I don’t even know what I’m going to do. I just know that if she’s going to hurt us, I’m going to hurt her.
She turns back to me, and I’m stuck in place, my hands outstretched.
Then it’s a blur of confusion. Ale is trying to grab me. She’s trying to stop Ale. She’s trying to stop me. She’s going back and forth, back and forth—
“Enough!” she screams.
Ale flies backward. He crashes right through the glass panel of his balcony door, and I bite back a scream.
I fight other noble girls all the time. My weapons are sharp words and little jabs in the back and cruel pranks, and I always win, because I’m always willing to go the furthest. But this is nothing like a tiff with a noble girl.
The watercrea has been killing our people for a thousand years. She’ll kill us without a second thought.
She stalks across the carpet and flings open the ruined balcony door. The balcony creaks as she steps out to join Ale. He tries to crawl away, but she advances, backing him into a corner.
She’s turned her attention away from me.
And I know exactly what I have to do.
I run across the room and through the balcony door. I dive at the watercrea. I push her with everything I have, and she tumbles into the railing, and she goes over.
Then, from below, there’s a muffled crunch.
I’ve never heard anything like it before, and yet, somehow, I instantly recognize the sound of breaking bones.
And the watercrea hasn’t reappeared.
And she still hasn’t reappeared.
And I’m just standing here, staring at the spot where she was standing a moment ago. I have the sudden urge to turn and run—to slip through the depths of the Morandi manor and disappear into the night, and then I’ll never have to look over the railing and see what made that noise.
But I’m already stepping forward. I’m already peering down at the street below.
The watercrea is sprawled on the cobblestone. Her pale arms are splayed. Her neck is bent at an unnatural angle. She’s not moving. She looks like a doll that somebody stepped on.
For a moment, everything is still. Then a dark stain seeps out from behind the watercrea’s head and starts to grow. It creeps into the cracks of the cobblestone.
A single red smudge appears on the watercrea’s cheek. Then another. And another.
The omens spread. Quickly. Silently. They cover her skin like they’re eating her up, and she disappears.
Her red silk gown crumples, and the only thing left of her is a small puddle of blood.
FOUR
NEXT TO ME, ALE GRABS THE RAILING AND PULLS HIMSELF to his feet. There’s blood on his mouth and splattered on the front of his shirt. He looks down at the street. He looks back up at me. His face is blank and uncomprehending.
“Well,” I say. “That’s what she gets.”
That’s the only thought in my head.
“Is…” Ale’s voice is a thin whisper. “Is… is she… she’s not…?”
He looks at me like he’s waiting for me to say something else.
“Oh, and you’re welcome,” I add. “For saving your life.”
I get the sense those weren’t the words he expected, but they make perfect sense to me. His eyes dart around the balcony, then back to the street. The watercrea’s gown is still lying there, abandoned.
She’s really gone.
