Tide

by Lacy Sheridan

  We fell into a tangle in the water. Marassa countered with talons and teeth. Something sliced into my wrist as my fingers tightened around a fistful of her dress. “Drown me now, my Queen,” I said.

  “The gods can deal with you, girl,” she spat.

  I leaned closer, meeting her stormy eyes. The eyes I used to see in my nightmares. “My name is Hania,” I declared. “Blood of Lenairen, victor of the Trials, and ruin of the Dragon Court.” And, hoping my words were ringing in her ears, I shoved her head beneath the water, my hands at her throat and jaw, knee in her chest.

  She thrashed, sending waves flying at me. I was already drenched through; I blinked against them. Those black needles pierced into my palms and wrists, driving themselves deep, curls of red spinning through the water. I clenched my jaw and shoved harder.

  I didn’t want to kill. I had enough blood on my hands. But it was me or her; she wouldn’t let me go alive. Not anymore. I doubted it had ever been a possibility.

  Marassa had started wars for the sake of wars. She’d destroyed three Courts to play her fantasy of Queen. Sent hundreds to death for nothing more than her own entertainment and cruel desire.

  Maybe she had a right to hate humans. Maybe she had a right to hate Tobin and me. Maybe in this world the strongest survived, and that meant she had the right to do what she wanted. But I couldn’t sit back and let my friends return to that life.

  I wasn’t the strongest, or the most cunning, or the most powerful. But I was strong enough to protect those I cared about. Strong enough to end what needed ending.

  I knew, as sure as I knew the beat of my own heart, that if I let go those needle teeth and icy talons would be digging into my flesh, ripping me apart, so I kept pushing. I pushed until there was nothing but tears and lake water blocking my vision.

  Until the thrashing and snarling slowed.

  Stopped.

  I didn’t move, gasping for breath like it might stave off the panic settling into me.

  “Hania. Hania!”

  I didn’t feel myself move, but then I was stumbling away from her, every inch of me trembling. My knees gave out on the shore. Then the world was sideways and I felt rocks digging into my freezing, numb skin. But I couldn’t move.

  Raeth slid to his knees beside me, cursing under his breath as he yanked stinging, broken spines from my skin. The pain each left behind was dull and far away. “If she dies you can go home, can’t you?” I mumbled.

  He shook his head with a whisper of strained laughter. “You’re insane.”

  “I know. Are those poisoned?” Everything in me felt heavy and tingly.

  “You’re going to be fine.”

  “Where’s Aven?”

  “I…dealt with him,” he said, voice grim. “Rest now, darling. You’re safe. We’re all safe.”

  “I don’t want to rest.” I shoved myself up with one hand, but got only halfway to sitting before the world pitched and I collapsed again. I squeezed my eyes shut to stop the dizziness.

  “Rest,” he repeated, and when I opened my mouth to protest a note of magic slipped into his voice. The rhythm of his sirensong, deep and smooth and lulling. “Sleep, Hania.”

  I didn’t have the strength to fight off the enchantment. It settled over me like a blanket, and I embraced the darkness.

  I had no sense of time. I slept. Sometimes I woke and forced down whatever food was placed in front of me. Sometimes I laid unmoving and silent while the dressings of my wounds were changed. Sometimes my eyes opened to darkness, ghosts of nightmares dancing in my vision, and I stared at the high ceiling before sleep dragged me away again.

  Sometimes I dreamt of talons and ice and teeth and knives ripping into me from every direction.

  Sometimes I dreamt I was in Marassa’s place, pinned beneath the water while I thrashed desperately, looking at my own cold, merciless face.

  Sometimes I swore I heard his voice, whispering beautiful lies into my ear. He made appearance after appearance in my nightmares, more than anybody else.

  When I woke gasping for breath, sheets tangled around my feet like snakes, I stared into the shadows as my eyes adjusted and could see the darkened chandeliers of the Eyes. A dream, a dream, a dream, I repeated, the mantra keeping me sane. Only a dream. It’s over.

  My pulse settled and I pushed myself up on unsteady arms. Catalogued my injuries. The worst of the bites snipped at the edges of my awareness, sore and no doubt aggravated by what had happened, but the rest felt better. Little red punctures dotted my hands and arms, but the pain was dull. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood carefully. The bite to my ankle protested and I shifted my weight off it.

  Better.

  I took a step further into the room. The same place I’d been brought when Raeth had first claimed me, like a massive doctor’s keep. I walked along the row of beds, keeping my steps gentle and silent so as not to wake anybody: most beds were occupied.

  Tidespeople I vaguely recognized by face slept, some deeply, some restlessly. I saw bruises and bandages on each and every one. The man who’d prayed as Marassa had circled him was missing the lower part of an arm, a wrapped stump in its place. I looked away.

  Tobin was in the next, the moonlight catching on his golden hair and drawing my eye straight to him. I bolted to his bed, hovering over it. Every horrible possibility flashed through my mind, but he was whole, breathing. Rail-thin and sleeping the deep, tranquil sleep of absolute exhaustion and weakness. Even in the dark, I could tell he was in far worse shape than I was, and I knew morning light would reveal more. But he was alive.

  I’d won.

  I sat on the edge of the bed, watching him. He never stirred. “It’s over,” I whispered, though I knew he couldn’t hear me. Maybe somewhere, deep in whatever dreams he might be having, he’d know. “I killed her. She was going to hurt so many people, Tobin, and I couldn’t—” I broke off as tears rolled down my cheeks, and swallowed a lump in my throat. “So I killed her. It’s over.”

  He didn’t respond. Of course he didn’t. I eased onto the bed and lay down beside him and stared at the ceiling. It was over. The Queen was dead and the human had won the game.

  So why wasn’t I happy?

  I lay there and wondered as I fell asleep again. This time I didn’t dream.

  “Hania.”

  Someone shook my arm, a gentle nudge. “Hania.”

  I pried my eyes open, blinking against the light, and rubbed one. Raeth was standing beside the bed. He was dressed in black, no sleek, gray accents today. Like he was mourning. With the blood and dirt washed away, I could see a set of stitched gashes across his cheek and jaw.

  I pushed myself up on one elbow. “Raeth.”

  Some ghost of a smirk passed across his face for an instant. “I’m glad to see you’re recovered enough to wander across the room in the middle of the night.”

  I glanced to Tobin, sleeping beside me, and got to my feet. “I didn’t know he was here.”

  “You have been unconscious for most of the last four days, darling,” he said, and offered his arm. I took it. We started toward the far doors. “Your brother will be fine, or so I’ve been assured. It will just take some time for him to recover. He’s been through…” He trailed off and shook his head. “I don’t want to know what he’s been through. But he’ll be alright.” I nodded. I wasn’t sure I had the energy for more.

  “How many people were killed?”

  He winced. “A lot.”

  I took that to mean I didn’t want to know a number, and I looked away. But I couldn’t keep from asking, “Aven?”

  There was a pause before Raeth answered, voice grim and tired. “I would have loved to rip the bastard’s throat out, believe me, but there were other things to be considered. He’s the only living heir of the selkies’ highest noble line. There would be riots across the Realm if he died, and no doubt retaliation.”

  “He survived the windsbane?” A single nod. “So…” I risked a glance, but he stared straight a
head.

  “It’s a tricky situation, Hania. Without Marassa, the Court is falling apart. Law doesn’t mean much right now, as much as we’re trying to hold it together. But he did help lead the war against my people, even if was from a distance. I took his skin. For now,” he added. “Until things get better sorted, he’s a criminal, and will be treated as such.”

  He was alive, but skinned. Powerless. Bound. What a surreal feeling, for the thought to be a relief when days ago it would have sent me into a flurry of shock and rage.

  “So it’s over?” I asked. It was. It had to be. But I needed to hear it. Raeth nodded again, and I let my head fall onto his shoulder, my eyelids heavy and the backs of my eyes burning. “I killed her, Raeth. I know what she did and what she was going to do but…I killed her.”

  He paused, and then said softly, “You didn’t kill Marassa.”

  “I did, Raeth. I held her under the water and—” I broke off as his serious tone registered and lifted my head to meet his eyes.

  “You didn’t kill Marassa,” he repeated, every word gentle. “You came close, which is more than I can say for any human who’s tried to kill someone like her aside from Lenairen, but you didn’t. I did.”

  I swallowed. “After you put me to sleep?”

  He tore his gaze away. “You needed it. And I…didn’t want you to see me like that.”

  That was that. I knew that tone: it meant no more discussion. It was over, and neither of us wanted to relive it. I nodded. After a moment, Raeth gave me another of his dazzling smiles, forced but enough to chase away a little of the darkness, and pushed the door open for me. “Now let’s find you something to eat, and a proper bedroom.”

  It was no secret that the sirens would return to their home Court, but it was a long journey there. Small groups had set out already, led by trusted guards to ensure they remained safe, a few of Raeth’s former girls among them. Raeth himself remained, and though Kieras was to be taken there to be buried, he had ordered she not leave the Eyes before I was awake to see her. The afternoon after I woke, I steeled myself as I went to meet them. She laid in the coffin they would transport her in, eyes closed like she was sleeping. Her snow-white hair was braided around her head like a crown, and she’d been dressed not in black and gold but in white and black and gray. A cuff encircled her left wrist, halfway to her elbow, silver engraved with a winding design and set with jade stars. I smoothed a loose strand of hair off her brow. Her skin was cool and stiff, unsettling to touch.

  “We didn’t know she’d been taken with the others until news came of what had happened,” Azali said as she stepped beside me. She’d cast aside the slave costume in favor of a simple shirt, pants, and boots for traveling, and wore the same cuff around her wrist. “We’re gifted them when we finish our training. We couldn’t risk wearing them here before,” she said when she caught my gaze lingering on it.

  The more I’d thought about the fact that they were Raeth’s guards the more it made sense. “How did nobody figure out what you were all this time?”

  She lifted one shoulder. “We were told to pretend. They saw a group of pretty, scantily-clad young girls parading around a Lord and didn’t think beyond that. We knew what would happen if they did, and we knew we had to stay close to him. He knew.”

  “Did he just choose the most beautiful young female guards there were to play the part?”

  “Some Courts prefer men to guard. Some prefer women. Though there are male guards among sirens, we’re something else. Similar, but a different…type, you could say. At home we’re called huntresses.”

  “I’m glad he had you. I’m glad I had you.”

  We stared at Kieras before Azali nodded. “I’m glad he has you, too.” She started away.

  She was halfway to her asketi before I spoke. “Azali. Can I ask you something?”

  “What?”

  “He has a box in a locked drawer.” Her brows pulled together. “It has hair combs and perfume in it, and letters signed with an A. From the war, I think. I know what you told me about you two before…” I trailed off, not even sure what I was meaning to say or ask. I just wanted to understand.

  One corner of her lips twitched, but her eyes were far from happy. “They aren’t mine. He had a sister, Alia. But that’s not my story to tell you.”

  I nodded and watched her climb onto the asketi’s back. “Travel safe, Azali.”

  “You, too.” She hesitated, let out a breath, and glanced at me. “And take it in the best possible way when I say I hope I never see you again.” She tugged the reins and headed off.

  I watched until they were specks on the horizon, and then turned and went to my room.

  In the days after, there were meetings upon meetings among the nobles, but I turned down all Raeth’s offers to sit in on them. I didn’t want to pretend to be alright, or listen to what I was sure were tense, unpleasant discussions of how to move forward. A good portion of the selkies had vanished, though whether to regroup or out of fear of being reprimanded nobody knew. Those who remained were in chaos, leaderless.

  Namak was among those killed in the battle, and his brother had taken over speaking for the merrows, leaving Raeth the only officially appointed Lord before he left, too.

  When I wasn’t visiting with Tobin—recovering, but still weak and battered—I shut myself in the room I’d been given, pacing circles or staring out at the mountains. Moray sometimes kept me company, silently sharing my grief, but the sprite didn’t speak. There were no words.

  Just under two weeks after the final Trial, a knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I didn’t look from the window; summer shone down on the mountains, but the sky felt empty and dull. My voice matched. “Who is it?”

  “Not more servants to bother you, I promise.”

  Raeth. I leaned my temple against the glass and closed my eyes. “Come in.” I listened to the door open and close, his steps as silent as ever. “Is everything alright?”

  “As alright as can be expected.” I looked over to see him pale, dark circles beneath his eyes. Nothing like the cool and composed Lord I’d met.

  “You look tired.”

  “I am,” he admitted, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. I uncurled my legs and turned on the window seat to face him. “There’s a century of damage to handle and as the only remaining member of the High Court the responsibility falls on me.”

  “Isn’t Namak’s brother helping? And the other nobles?”

  He scoffed and muttered, “Iskim is about as helpful as a dagger to the spine.”

  “What about the selkies?” I dared to ask. The word stung my throat.

  Raeth flinched. “They’re entirely unorganized, of course. Half want to leave, half want to stay. Some are glad to have this over and others are loyal to…” He trailed off before he said his name. I was grateful. “Whatever happens is for them to decide. Whether they split to different Courts or sort themselves out, I don’t know. My concern now is getting my people home. And you.”

  I let out a long sigh, closing my eyes. I didn’t want to think about that part. I didn’t want to think at all. I didn’t want to make a decision. Because home called, tugging at me faintly and desperately, but that part of me that felt right in this world, among the whisper of the tide and the magic, trembled at the thought of leaving. I never wanted to see any part of this Court again, but I didn’t want to leave the painted sky behind. And yet, right then nothing sounded better than our farm.

  Raeth watched me, waiting for an answer. “Tobin wants to go back, of course,” I murmured. “He says if there’s a passing he’ll take it even if he’s not recovered. He never wants to see the Realm again.” I couldn’t blame him.

  Raeth quirked an eyebrow. “But?”

  This world had broken and rebuilt me, time and time again. Changed me in ways I wasn’t sure I understood yet. A piece of me would always be here, with Raeth and Moray. The thought of never seeing them again felt like something stabbing into my heart. But I press
ed my lips together to keep from letting it show and nodded. “I need to go, too.”

  “I figured as much.” He stood and held out a hand to me. I took it. “After everything happened I sent out word to the closest Courts that we’re in need of a passing. One’s opened at the edge of the Court of the Sun’s land. They’ve given us permission to take a small party to use it.”

  A passing had opened. We could go.

  Finally. Two months in the Realm of Tides. Two months since I’d seen my home, Papa, Edrick. It felt like years and years. “We should go before it closes,” I said, even though part of me wanted to stall.

  He nodded. “I’ll gather guards and arrange for someone to handle any emergencies while I’m gone. We’ll leave in the morning, if you’re ready and Tobin is adequately recovered for the ride.”

  “He is.”

  A heavy pause, and then he pressed a light kiss to my knuckles before he dropped them. “Get some rest, Hania.” He started for the door, but I stopped him before he reached it.

  “Raeth.” He turned. “I need to see him before I go.”

  Apprehension crossed his face, but he hid it in a second. “Are you sure?”

  I wasn’t sure I’d be okay if I did. I wasn’t sure it would do anything. But I was sure I needed to try. “I’m sure.”

  He almost smiled. “In that case, I suggest you take a bath and find something fresh to wear. I want him to look at you and regret ever crossing you.” He left, and I turned away feeling both steadier and thinner than I’d felt in days.

  We weren’t in the dark, but this place below the Eyes was just as cold and terrible. I trembled as I followed Raeth down the steps, the lantern he carried lighting our way. It made shadows bounce around us like leering monsters, ready to strike. But there were worse monsters than shadows, and I couldn’t be afraid of them anymore.

  “Are you sure about this?” Raeth asked yet again as he paused at the foot of the steep staircase. I nodded and touched the gem hanging at my throat. Only green now; I’d ripped the blue out and thrown it as far across the quiet mountains as I could.