“Yes.” There are so many variables in our plan, but of that I am sure. “Invading the Etherian lands is madness. She will not let her father do it. She will not lose her crown that way.”
“But will she keep you by her side? Or will she use you and discard you? As everyone else has done.”
A taste like bile slides over my tongue and down my throat. Thunder rumbles in the distance, raising the hair on my arms.
“You are making a mistake,” Kal continues. “I do not wish to lose you.”
“Stay with me, then.” I reach for him as white flashes through the gaping hole in the stones. “I will plead your case to Aurora. You’ve more than paid for your crimes, especially if you agree to help us. She’s reasonable. She won’t do what her ancestors did.”
“You are determined, then.” His jet eyes harden, shadows curling away from me like they’ve been burned. “I will not dissuade you.”
It isn’t a question. And I don’t answer. My chest aches, but I don’t try to explain myself anymore, beg his forgiveness, or win his favor back. I have made my choice.
“I will free you first,” I vow. “I won’t let you rot here if things go badly. But I hope you’ll change your mind. I don’t want to choose between you.”
His next words, laced with misery, hurt worse than any torture the king could have devised. “Oh, Alyce. You already have.”
—
In the upper floors of the tower, there is a small chamber where the ceiling is mostly intact. Its narrow window looks out over the black, restless sea, the moon like a silver coin hidden behind the clouds. I do what I can to make it habitable. The bed is in decent shape, although the bedclothes are moldy and reek of brine and dampness. But it’s better than the disease-riddled straw of the prison cells. Rubble and broken furniture litter the floor, including the remains of an ancient spinning wheel.
Though I know I need rest for my magic to regenerate, sleep refuses to come. Each new fear crashes against my skull like the breaking waves below. My ears stay tuned for the tinny clang of the alarm bells. For the rumble of hooves on the ground, searching for the king’s escaped prisoner. But Briar is quiet.
Once dawn begins to gild the whitecaps, the promised storm of the last night having done little more than grumble as it passed over Briar, I give up the bed and focus my energy on fixing the spinning wheel. It’s a lost cause. A large chunk of the flywheel is missing. There’s no belt. The footman is warped. And the maidens are crooked. But the impossible task gives my hands an outlet. By midmorning, I have the pieces mostly in the right places. I give the wheel a good spin, finding a strange sort of comfort in the way the spokes blur together. In the creaky, clacking sound it makes. Almost hypnotizing.
“Have you given any more thought to what I said?”
Kal’s voice from the shadows pulls me back into the present.
I still the wheel. “Have you?”
His silence is answer enough. There will be no convincing him to stay—no more than I can be convinced to leave.
Letting out a sigh, I knead the shooting tension at the crook of my shoulder. I have no idea when Laurel will arrive with the king’s item. When she does, things will move very quickly. Kal needs to get away while he can.
“It’s time to free you, then.”
One of his shadows slithers away from me, as if it knows what I’m going to do. “You do not have to try now. You are tired.”
I push past him and down the stairs, inhaling deep breaths of the salty air and trying to center my focus. There’s another storm coming. I can see the charcoal line on the horizon, heavy-bellied clouds trudging their way inland. A twinge starts behind my eyes, the pressure building.
“I’m well enough for this.” Even I hear the fatigue in my voice. But I made Kal a promise. And my Vila magic has only grown in the past months. “We don’t have time to wait.”
Kal watches me with his arms crossed, the shadows wending and billowing around him like the beating wings of one of Leythana’s dragons. As if they remember what happened last time and are daring me to try again. I cling to what little confidence I can gather and send my magic out, feeling for the protections of Kal’s prison. The cord of my power connects in half a heartbeat, bumping against the stone buttress that encases the enchantment.
This time, I do not start swinging blindly as I did before. Brute force only alerts the binding magic to an attack. Instead, I skim the edges of the protections, feeling for weaknesses.
There.
A chink. A thin spot. It’s all I need. I pull my power back before the shadows realize what I’m doing. Build my magic until it is a thick rope of darkness. And then, with every fiber of my soul, I let it loose.
Like a whip, my power cracks against the protections of the enchantment. The floor of the tower rattles. Kal groans and doubles over. The shadows hiss and scatter, leaving his body for the first time since I’ve known him. But his prison is not broken. It’s angry.
The walls of magic build themselves back up, healing the wounds caused by my attack. But I am faster. My own power zips around the protections, puncturing their surface. The shadows howl, shriveling up like scorched parchment. The magic of the enchantment pushes against mine, iron meeting iron. I grit my teeth, sweat beading along my collarbone and drenching my back.
“Keep going,” Kal gasps. He’s on all fours, sides heaving.
My muscles stretch and tremble.
