by Amber Argyle
“Do you realize what you’ve done?” Brine asked.
“I haven’t done anything but reveal the truth.”
Brine chuckled bitterly. “You opened the door for the world to see that we are vulnerable and corrupted.”
“Merlay opened that door.”
Brine was silent a moment. “Maybe so, but you pointed it out to everyone.” She studied Lilette from head to toe. “Since you no longer need our guidance to govern your nation, I’ll take Grove City’s leadership, but leave the rest of the witches with you.” More guardians had arrived, and Lilette recognized them as the ones who usually accompanied Brine. The Head of Water ticked off a list of witches to accompany her, and a guardian went to fetch them. Brine turned back to Jolin. “You’re coming too.”
“I’m staying,” she said.
Brine’s expression hardened. “I will need you to testify.”
Jolin turned to Lilette, her eyes haunted. “I wish I’d never created the veil.”
Lilette wasn’t sure how she felt about Jolin, who had helped the witches kill Sash and hundreds of Lilette’s people. But she hadn’t done it knowingly. “Don’t let Merlay get away with it,” Lilette told Jolin.
Jolin nodded, then pivoted and walked toward a waiting Brine.
When they were out of sight, Han came to stand beside Lilette. “Do you think they’ll try anything?” she asked.
He shook his head. “If they do, the elite will step aside and let the city have at them.”
Lilette let out a breath. “It worked.”
“Let’s hope so.”
Within an hour, the leaders of the witches were hustling through the city. The people threw things at them, rotten food, mostly. But they couldn’t do much damage unless they wanted to hit the imperial soldiers, which they seemed unwilling to do. With the witches singing, the ship snaked out of the harbor.
Long after the first ship had disappeared, a smaller ship slipped out of the harbor. Lilette noticed the way Han’s gaze followed it. “Your mother?”
He watched them depart. “Lang thought it was safer to go. I agreed.”
Chapter 36
Lilette was like a star—full of light and distant beauty. Han was like the shadows around the stars—he let her shine. ~Jolin
Lilette spent the rest of the day organizing the guardians into teams to clean up the city. The wastrels were dispatched as healers—their knowledge of herbs were far superior to any Harshen physickers. The rest of the witches went to work rebuilding the groves and fields. By nightfall, the city already looked better. Most of the main streets had been cleared, and green things grew everywhere.
Lilette watched the sun set—without mountains to hide behind, the sky plunged from pale blue to velvety navy within minutes.
Han came up from behind her and snaked his arms around her waist. “What are you doing?”
“We did it. They’re really gone.” His voice was gravely and he sounded tired but happy. He nuzzled her neck and a warmth built in her chest. With so many guardians and witches left behind, the city would be rebuilt in matter of months.
Lilette licked her lips as Han’s nuzzling went from loving to something deeper. She leaned back, giving him better access to her neck. She lazily watched a ship slip into sight, backlit by the twilight. It headed toward the harbor, its white sails almost looking peach. “What if they try something else?”
Han started untying the sash around her robe. “They won’t. Not with as many of their people as they left here.”
Lilette straightened as she watched the ship come closer. “Han?” It was moving fast—too fast to be just any ship. She pointed to where it now rested in the open waters. “What is that ship doing?”
His brow furrowed as he squinted at it. “Fishing?”
Her gaze swept over the conformation, the lay of the sails, and her breath caught. “It’s Brine’s ship.”
Han stepped up beside her just as a wavering column of blue and purple shot up from the deck. He leaned over the rail and shouted, “Sound the alarm!”
The guardians in the compound whipped around, unsure what to do. But the elite knew. One struck the gong that had been repaired earlier.
As the percussion broke out over the city, Han snatched Lilette’s arm and half dragged her toward the stairs. “You have to create a circle. Deliver a counter song!”
Her mind kept stumbling on the fact that the witches were launching an attack. It didn’t seem real.
They reached the second level of the palace, where the remaining witches were saying. It was a wide room divided by dozens of silk screens. Most of the witches were still out in the city, but a few had returned for the evening. The thought of them dying jarred a protective instinct inside Lilette. “Witches! To me!” she called.
A few screens slid open, and a handful of witches rushed out of their rooms, Nassa and Doranna among them. “What’s going on?” Doranna asked.
“Brine is singing against us!”
“That’s not possible!” Nassa said.
Lilette didn’t have time to argue. “Help me or we’re all dead!” she cried. She rushed into the courtyard, the handful of witches behind her, just as the world bucked beneath her. She found herself face down on the brick-paved courtyard, her nose gushing blood into her mouth.
She could see Han’s lips move as he screamed at her, but she couldn’t hear him over the din. He started pulling her away. She looked back. Looming over them, the palace pitched violently. What if it fell on top of them?
She dragged herself forward as the ground heaved again. The skin on her elbows tore, but she couldn’t feel anything past the bone-numbing fear of being crushed.
Movement in front of her caught her gaze. The last remaining rampart shook itself to pieces and leaned toward them. With a deafening roar, it shattered against the brick courtyard. Han snatched her into his arms, shielding her with his body as broken bricks pounded them.
The shaking subsided a bit. Her ears ringing, Lilette dared to lift her head. She couldn’t see anything through the choking dust. Groaning, Han pushed himself up beside her. Pieces of brick and dust cascaded off his back. Blood coated his scarred ear.
“What are they doing?” Lilette gasped.
Sometime between when he’d been kissing her neck and now, Han had thrown on his death armor. “They’re going to destroy all the witnesses.”
His words refused to penetrate the thick layer of disbelief that held Lilette captive.
“Keepers!” his voice rang out in the unnatural stillness. “To me! If you want to save your lives, to me!”
Lilette pushed herself up. This was happening. And if she didn’t do anything to stop it, everyone was going to die. Wiping blood and dust off her face, she pivoted, searching for Doranna and Nassa. They had to start a circle. Now.
Lilette stumbled over broken bricks, coughing as dust filled her lungs. Her foot caught on something too soft to be rubble. She bent over, her hands grazing clothing. She found an arm and pulled on it. It was Doranna. “Are you alive?”
Doranna moaned. Lilette shook her. “There’s time to be hurt later. Get up.”
The wastrel blinked open her green eyes—the color a shock in a world of yellow dust.
“We have to sing,” Lilette said.
Doranna grimaced and pushed herself up. “Why would they attack us?”
Afraid of being alone—of losing her—Lilette dragged Doranna along as she searched for Nassa. “Because we know too much.” Brine must be in on it. All the Heads must be. Lilette suddenly thought of Bethel—of the history she carved into her cliffs—and wondered if the older woman would engrave this moment as well.
They stumbled upon Nassa, wandering and confused. Only a few minutes must have passed since the tremors had ceased, but Lilette felt the songs building in the elements, building until everything would burst.
“Drop!” she commanded. They hit the ground just as it started moving again. They clung to each other, their cries of fear drowned o
ut by the deafening roar of the earth in pain.
Lilette felt it subsiding. She popped her head up, silently begging to see Han again. There! He was coming through the dust, one arm bracing a witch, another witch thrown over his shoulder.
He gently set down the barely conscious woman. “Is it enough?”
Nassa leaned over her, pressing her hands against a wound in the woman’s head that gushed blood. “We need eight to even begin to fight.”
Belatedly, Lilette realized she could clear the dust. She sang and the breeze picked up, clearing the air. She could see down to the city, or what remained of it. It was gone now—nothing but a pile of rubble. Her eyes swept over the harbor. Some of the piers had collapsed, dragging the ships down unnaturally into the water.
But the worst part was that what had once been a crescent-shaped harbor was now open to the ocean—the outer rim had completely sunk underwater.
Han looked at her, realizing what was happening a beat before she did. “They’re sinking the island.”
His words finally broke through the fog that had descended on Lilette. “Five will have to do. Get her up,” he said, motioning to the dazed woman.
Nassa shook her head. “She’s hurt too badly.”
“There isn’t time to be hurt.” Lilette grabbed the injured witch’s arms and hauled her to her feet. She swayed, one hand on her head, but managed to stay standing. Her eyes were wrong, one pupil much larger than the other.
Power hummed through Lilette. “Find more of us, Han.” She commanded the others, “Sing me up.”
Shuffling, already broken, they did. Her voice joined theirs, and she wobbled into the air. She could feel Merlay’s song building, feel it aching to be released. Lilette didn’t attempt to stop the building tremor. There wasn’t time for that.
Instead, she called the wind, making it cocoon around her words. She shot them to the city, instructing the people to flee for the ships. She directed another song toward the harbor, telling them to cut the ships free before the island dragged them down with it.
The Harshens obeyed. Some of the ships jerked back up to float free as their mooring were cut. Others sailed away. Lilette told them to wait. To take the people.
And then another tremor hit. Lilette’s fragile circle broke apart as the women inside it were thrust to their knees.
Lilette fell from the sky. She sang for all she was worth to slow her descent. She hit the ground so hard everything went black.
When she came around, Han was bent over her, shaking her so hard her head was flopping. She shoved him away. The panic in his eyes faded. She glanced around. He’d found five more witches.
Lilette staggered to her feet. Something was wrong with her lower leg. She turned her focus inward. It was broken, but it held her weight. Though the pain was biting, it was bearable. Not waiting for her command, the witches simply linked arms and started singing again.
She tried to go on the offensive, tried to call in a lightning storm, but the next tremor was so bad that half of what remained of the island fell away. And Lilette knew thousands of Harshens had died in that one moment.
She couldn’t stop this. But she could slow it down—give some of her people time to get to the ships. Her mouth set in a grim line, Lilette steeled herself, making Merlay battle hard for every inch of the island that fell, every wave that swallowed a bit of Lilette’s empire.
A few people made it to the ocean. Some dove straight in and swam for the ships waiting in open water. Others grabbed broken bits of wood and settled children on top before paddling out to sea.
Merlay would hunt them mercilessly, but Lilette had to believe some of them would make it. Her circle was weakening. The witch with the different-sized pupils had collapsed long ago. If she wasn’t dead, she would be soon.
The ocean beat against the upper city now. The harbor, the slums, the market—all of it was gone. The only buildings left were a few of the fine, walled-in homes and the palatial compound.
Directly below her, Han was watching his homeland slowly sink under the waves. His hair was caked with blood.
Lilette reached out with her witch sense and felt the power building around her. So much power. And then the tremor hit with such force it broke her circle apart. Lilette fell from the sky.
Han was waiting, his arms open. He collapsed when she hit him. Her hand smacked into the ground, and the blast of power rising up hit her with such force as to make her gasp. The island tipped sideways and started to sink so fast she could feel the ocean spray on her face. “It’s over,” she said.
Caked in dust, Han pushed himself halfway up and let out a cry. Lilette could see it too. The water was so full of debris it was black as it hurtled toward them. Pinching her eyes shut, she turned away.
Chapter 37
Watching Harshen sink, knowing Lilette was there, I saw myself clearly for the first time—my selfishness and my conceit. I ripped away that part of myself. I was done being used. Done being naive and malleable. I swore I would make them pay. ~Jolin
The crashing wave didn’t touch her, didn’t swallow her whole. Lilette let out a gasp and opened her eyes to see churning black waters surrounding them on all sides. They were sinking into the deep, the barrier a solid line of demarcation between them and water choked with the remainder of the dead city.
The remaining witches had managed to grab one another and sing. Han eased his death grip on her. Together, they watched the sky grow farther and farther away. After what seemed like forever, the island stopped sinking. Lilette could see nothing except a shaft of blue sky above them.
The barrier flickered, and water started to seep in. It was weak because the witches were weak, but it was holding. Feeling crumpled and damp, Lilette struggled to her feet, careful not to put weight on her aching leg.
The witches were humming to keep the barrier up, their faces pale and resigned. “Now what?” Lilette asked.
Han looked up at the distant sky and then back at the choked, black water. Lilette caught sight of a dead water buffalo hitting the barrier before bouncing back into the debris. She looked away before she saw something worse.
“How long can you hold it?” Han asked.
Nassa struggled to sit up, careful not to let go of the witch next to her. “Until we give out.” She craned her neck back to get a good look at the sky. “But eventually we’ll have to let go, and then the sea will come rushing at us.”
Han stared up, as if gauging the distance. “I think we could reach the surface before our air runs out.”
“I can’t swim,” Doranna said, her eyes wide. She seemed to be barely keeping it together.
Han gestured to the fragments littering the ground around them. “We’ll tie you to a board. It will carry you up. Matter of fact, we’ll tie you all to a board.”
Lilette motioned to the wreckage still slamming into the barrier. “I don’t think anyone could survive a swim in that.”
He rubbed his chin. “So we wait—hold the circle until the debris settles. Then we swim for it.”
“Harberd?” Lilette said.
Doranna gave a slight shake of her head. “He was in the city.”
So he was probably dead. Lilette’s body was threatening to collapse. She sank to the ground, her hand wrapping around her leg just above her ankle, the pain hitting her hard now that she wasn’t fighting anymore. “Merlay will see the barrier. She’ll be waiting for us.”
Han knelt before Lilette and pulled up her trousers to inspect her swollen leg. “She won’t dare come close, not with all the wreckage.”
Lilette lay back, resting her palms on her eyes. Her mother had shown her the island sinking. Lilette had thought she’d stopped it when she’d rescued the captive witches from Chen. She had been wrong. And now all those people were dead.
Han went about finding bits of broken wood inside their circle and tying them to the witches with ripped bits of their clothes.
Lilette stared at the blue sky as the debris slowly settled, en
ough that she caught sight of the palace. Miraculously it still stood.
The stone dragons stood guard at the entrance, their lips pulled back in an eternal snarl. Beyond them, the leaves of trees waving gently in the water. Lilette couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that she was lying on the yellow-brick courtyard—which was now and forever underwater.
Han knelt before her. Using her sash, he tied a board to the front of her robes. “Lilette, look at me.”
She kept staring at the palace, wondering how many were dead now because of her.
He lay both his palms on her shoulders and shook her. “Lilette!” She finally turned to face him.
His face was tight. “The others—they’re not going to be able to hold on much longer. Better to let go now, while they have the strength to swim, than to wait until everyone is too exhausted. And the water is clearing.”
She pushed her head back into the rubble beneath her, the physical pain a relief from the emotional one. “Han, I don’t think—”
“Don’t you give up!” he growled. “I’ve seen battles where men give up. And they die. You have to fight to survive. You have to live!”
She slowly shook her head. “Why? I already failed my purpose.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “Did you? Your mother said you were to save those you could. Maybe that’s just the witches here. Maybe the others who managed to escape. Lilette, if your purpose was over, you wouldn’t have survived this.”
She looked at the devastated city. That they were still alive was a miracle. “You’re right,” she breathed. She forced herself to stand, her bad leg bent to take less weight. “Han’s right. We need to swim for it now, before we’re too exhausted to reach the surface.”
The other witches exchanged wary glances, but no one argued. Staying wasn’t an option.
Lilette stared at the sky, as Han had done. She was raised by a fisherman—she knew the sea. “You’re going to be tempted to breathe. Fight the urge. When the water comes in, everything will be blurry, and the debris will probably be stirred up. Follow the bubbles. And don’t stop kicking.”
