The one in the shadows looked affronted and swatted the side of my captor’s arm with her fingers. Fingers that were tipped by long, onyx nails filed into blades. “Qui fait ce qu’elle pense qu’elle est?”
“C’est Clémentine. C’est une fille de Moira.”
The other being’s eyes went wide before she squinted at me, wrinkled her nose, and pushed off from the rock at her back. Faint light from an unseen source glinted off the weapons lining the outsides of her arms and legs. What I thought were large gill covers and pectoral fins turned out to be the silhouettes of straight and curved blades.
“I am Gosia,” said the being at my side. “That is Jadzia.”
Found Gosia on 30 April.
Every instinct I had cautioned me to keep my mouth shut.
Jadzia positioned herself next to Gosia. Her fingertips played along the outside of her legs where weapon handles poked out of streamlined holsters. Everything about Jadzia said she was fast, deadly, and would protect Gosia first and maybe ask questions later.
I swallowed hard. “May I ask what kind of Magicals you are?”
“No, you may not.”
Jadzia kept her gaze on me as she patted her weapon pockets closed before turning her back. “We have to go,” she said. “Now.”
“I am ready,” Gosia answered. “Let me rid us of this witchling.”
“If you’ll point me to the tunnel I can swim back,” I said. I really, really wanted to live.
“Remove the threads. They’ll weigh you down.”
The chest, leg, and arm pieces melted off my body in chunks. I stripped off the last bits, down to my underwear and bra, and covered my chest with ice-cold arms.
“There is a current. You will have to swim against it.” Gosia pulled her hair back and motioned for Jadzia to braid it. As her companion set to working the strands under and across, Gosia drew her fingers across her chest and came away with a clump of nacreous threads. She held them to her lips, whispered a spell, and tossed the shimmery filaments into the water.
A snake formed from the threads, swam to Gosia, and circled one of her ankles. She bent to stroke its head. “Guide Clementine back to the tunnel. Stay with her until I call you back. Do not let her speak of us.”
The snake returned to the water, churning oxygen into the bioluminescent organisms living in the underground cavern. A broken stream of light followed in the wake left by its impatient circling. I didn’t like how quickly the tiny beacons disappeared.
“Swim fast, little witch. There are creatures in these waters who have not fed for a long, long time.” The hiss in Jadzia’s voice sent a spasm of fear up my back.
“Es-tu prêt?” she asked. At Gosia’s nod, Jadzia dove into the water, her arms alongside her body, her spine as fluid as any aquatic creature’s.
Gosia waited, all the while staring at me.
“I can’t read your mind,” I whispered. She blinked once and followed Jadzia’s dive with one that was quieter and even more elegant.
I had to get going. The snake was moving away and taking my resolve with it. I felt for the rock wall and slid my feet along the ground until my toes curled over the edge of the landing.
I lowered to the ground, slipped into the chilling water, and told myself I could do this. Breathing in and out fast and hard, I kept the reptile’s trail in sight. What little light had been illuminating the spit of land faded into black. I swam forward, ignoring my brain’s insistence on calculating how deep the water was or imagining the hungry creatures that might inhabit this place.
The cut on my neck went from stinging to numb. Ahead of me, one pale light, then two, appeared. I homed in on the glowing dots. The snake kept swimming. I paused to tread water and tried to force my voice to carry. “Bas, is that you?”
“Clementine! Do you need help?”
“Keep the light on. Please.” Hope was a powerful propellant. I switched to a crawl and even let my face go below the surface of the water for greater efficiency. One hand smacked rock and the other fumbled for something to grab. I pushed my hair away from my eyes and looked up. Alabastair was crouched on the narrow bit of ledge, poised to dive in.
“Let me catch my breath,” I said.
“Clementine?”
I rested my forehead against the wet rock. “Yes?”
“I—I don’t know how to swim.”
I let his admission sink in. “Then it’s a good thing you stayed here. Any chance you have a blanket for me?”
The snake wound itself around my arm and settled on the left side of my neck, in the hollow of my collar bone. It was becoming a popular spot.
“You may have my cape. I left it in the tunnel. I will save my questions for when we are reunited with Maritza and Beryl.”
I crawled to the top of the steps. Alabastair boosted me into the tunnel. My joints and limbs were so cold he had to wrap the cape around me. He didn’t push to get a move on until my teeth had stopped chattering. Numb, I followed the necromancer through the tunnel until he exited into the abandoned portal station to the sound of Beryl’s and Maritza’s overlapping questions.
I rested on my forearms and knees within the tunnel’s entrance, hugging the velveteen closer and pulling the hood over my head. Post-trauma shakes had set in with a vengeance. I was on the verge of tears and I didn’t want anyone to know.
I’d pushed too far.
I’d put Alabastair at risk, because his sense of responsibility meant he might have attempted to swim after me anyway. I’d put myself at risk, because I dropped into a potentially dangerous situation without a weapon. Though I wouldn’t have known how to use anything Alderose might have slapped into my palm or strapped to my thigh.
But my risk taking—and my mother’s threads—had led me to Gosia. And Gosia’s mood had switched the moment she saw
