Untethered

by KayLynn Flanders

  She frowned in concentration. “I will.”

  I swallowed and eased my hands between us, reaching for her hand.

  She jerked away. “No! Don’t waste your magic.”

  I almost teased her about sounding like Jenna. But the words stuck. I cleared my throat. “It wouldn’t be a waste, but no magic. I promise. I just…I just want to hold your hand.” Because the panic is threatening to choke me and last time your touch helped calm me. But I couldn’t say those words. “If that’s okay?”

  “Oh,” she said on a sigh. She slipped her hand into my bound ones, and though her fingers were ice, heat flared in my chest. I’d find a way, somehow, to keep them all safe.

  * * *

  The storm caught up to us in the night. Huge waves crashed into the boat, tipping and tilting us one way, then the other. Rain and waves soaked us in icy water, and it was all we could do to hold on to the rope around the mast to keep from being washed away.

  The tempest finally eased as morning neared, and the crew found bits of canvas to wrap themselves in, content to sleep in their corners. I’d expected a crew like this to be loud, boisterous. But these men stayed quiet—because of the uncharted waters, or the mages?

  Mari slept on Chiara’s lap, her hand resting on mine. I still held Chiara’s hand when we woke as the sun burst over the horizon. Mari’s touch slowly regenerated my magic, somehow, despite my exhaustion. But my magic was still dangerously low.

  When the sun rose behind us, there was little relief—the wind pulled its rays away. The cliffs loomed over us, a constant presence to our right.

  We awoke before the sailors.

  “We need to figure out a plan,” I whispered. Brownlok steered the boat but wouldn’t hear us from this distance. The others leaned closer. “We cannot let the mages find the Black Library.” If they did, they’d be unbeatable, even against all the armies of the Plateau combined.

  Enzo kept his arms folded, a permanent scowl etched on his face. “There are too many of them to fight off, even if we had weapons.”

  Chiara held Mari’s hand. “Ren has the Turian key still. Could that be used to trade?”

  I sighed and tilted my head from side to side. “All anyone has to do is threaten Jenna, and it’s over. But once they stop giving her poison—”

  Enzo looked at me sharply.

  “Cris told me when he was threatening to kill us.” I shrugged. “You needed sleep more than you needed to hear him spouting his garbage. But Jenna can’t climb sedated. She can access my magic through her tethers. She lent me her magic so I could heal you back when Leland…” I could barely say the old man’s name. I cursed my weakness and cleared my throat. “Maybe it goes both ways. Maybe I can lend her my magic, and she can use it to fight.”

  “She can’t climb sedated,” Enzo echoed.

  “Could we take away Koranth’s shade blade?” Chiara asked. “Then he’d be just a man, right?”

  I nodded slowly. “That could take care of him. But Redalia still has her dagger. And we’d have Brownlok, as well.”

  Mari tucked her hands under her arms and leaned over for warmth. “I’m telling you, he’s not mean like the others.”

  I sighed. “He may not be mean, but he has his own motives, Mari. He wants what he wants, and I don’t know what he’d do to achieve his goals.” Especially since it meant life or death for him. Survival or extinction.

  Wait. Redalia was more or less fine without Graymere because she had her artifact. What if Brownlok wanted to create an artifact? What had Jenna said about the mages’ artifacts? That they had to perform some sort of sacrifice involving a lot of blood…

  He hadn’t hurt Mari. Kept her whole and happy. She amplified magic.

  Oh no. No no no no.

  Brownlok wanted to sacrifice Mari and use something in the Black Library to create his artifact. Trade her life for his artifact.

  Glaciers.

  “We take them out one at a time, then,” Chiara was saying. “We worry about Koranth first. Then Redalia. Then Brownlok. Then the crew.”

  Mari bobbed her head, unaware. Excited to be included. I bit the inside of my cheek. Hard. I’d have to warn the others. But I didn’t want to scare Mari. Not if we didn’t have to.

  I nodded at Enzo. “One at a time. We see a chance, we take it.” He nodded back, remembering our pact. I’d let Jenna take every last drop of my magic if it meant she could save the rest of them. Because I couldn’t live with anything less.

  Chiara

  The thick canvas sail snapped in the wind, and silver-tipped seabirds darted overhead, splashing into the water in terrifying dives. We were given dry crusts of bread and a ladle of water midmorning, but nothing else.

  No matter how I wished it, the wind never ceased, blowing us toward the mages’ destination.

  Take them out one by one. That was the plan. A plan that didn’t involve me—I had no fighting skills. No magic.

  As the sun rose in the sky, not quite at its apex, the cliffs loomed closer. We’d shifted directions until we skimmed alongside the solid face of rock jutting into the sky. The closer we came to the cliffs, the more the energy began to change on the ship. The captain called out more directions, and if the men didn’t respond quick enough, he swore up a storm that made even Ren blush.

  The fourth time Mari asked what a word meant, I covered her ears.

  And then a massive inlet appeared. The sea flowed into what looked like a crack in the Plateau. The sun beat down, illuminating the jagged walls, the stripes in the different kinds of rock.

  Two men lifted a huge anchor and dumped it overboard, and two others pulled at the ropes attached to the sail until it was neatly stowed away. Slowly, we came to a halt, the waves lapping against the ship, last night’s storm a distant memory.

  The captain’s door creaked open, and Koranth emerged, then Brownlok and Redalia, followed by Cris, who carried Jenna. Her hair had mostly come out of her braid and draped over Cris’s shoulder. She was pale. So pale. But her hand, fallen to her side, revealed a small ring on her middle finger—her artifact, which protected her from magic. My brows furrowed. Did they not know? Why had they let her keep it? The chain of the Medallion was still around Cris’s neck. Did any of them realize what he held?

  Next to me, Enzo tensed, and I prayed that Mari by his side would keep him from lashing out. We couldn’t. Not yet.

  They forced us all into a dinghy, and two crewmen who would stay with the boat lowered the dinghy into the sea.

  Brownlok stayed by Mari’s side. Redalia watched Ren with a smirk that gave me chills. Koranth kept caressing the bag at his side and muttering to himself.

  It took the rest of the day to row to the inlet. The walls loomed on either side of us, and led us through a twisting canyon that darkened as the sun set, like we’d entered the heart of the Plateau. Koranth kept his nose pressed against the map, then squinted at the cliff walls around us, the brush on the shore on either side. Eventually, he called for us to land, even though the inlet continued.

  When we lurched onto sand, Cris took Jenna off the dinghy first, then the others followed, each of the crewmen pulling a pack from under his bench. Ren and I were last, and the ground tilted under me until I got used to being on solid earth again.

  The crewmen started making camp—one set the fire, another laid out bedrolls. Not enough for us, but enough for the captain and his men. Though from the way Redalia was eyeing the bedrolls, I figured she’d end up with one by the end of the night.

  “You four, over there,” Koranth said, pointing to a patch of dirt away from the fire. It’d be another long, cold night, but at least we’d be together.

  Except Jenna. Cris had laid her near the mages.

  We watched the crewmen prepare their dinner, our stomachs growling. One of the men brought us fish and raisins.

  “Ea
t what you can,” Koranth said from his spot by the fire. “Tomorrow, we climb.”

  I glanced at Enzo, and he and Ren had the same look. We might climb tomorrow, or tomorrow might be the day we escape. I wished there was some way I could help in the fight, but the most I could do was keep Mari out of the way. I only hoped it would be enough.

  * * *

  A hand came around my mouth after I’d been asleep for what felt like seconds, and I startled awake. The hand was big and rough, but gentle. I sat up groggily with help. Stood. Then I saw Enzo and Ren asleep on the ground.

  If it wasn’t Ren…I scraped at the hand, but it clamped down tight on my face and another hand wrapped around my waist. I slammed my boots into his feet, kicked back against his shins, but he lifted me and staggered toward the base of the cliffs. I screamed against his hand, thrashed against his hold with everything I had.

  “Quiet,” he hissed. Cris. We were trapped between the Plateau and the water—what was his goal?

  I twisted hard in his arms and was finally able to get away from his hand covering my mouth. But I didn’t yell. “Cris, wait,” I said quietly. I stopped thrashing, stopped struggling. It surprised him enough to loosen his hold. “If we join together, we can defeat the mages—”

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Ren’s voice growled behind us.

  Cris’s arm wrapped around my throat and the sharp ring of metal cut through the night as he drew his sword. “I’m maintaining my value,” he hissed. The others hadn’t woken. It was just Ren, matching Cris’s steps, hands bound in front of him.

  I raised my chin, trying to get enough air to speak. “Cris, no one’s awake. Let’s get out of here. We get Jenna, take the boat, go home.”

  “I have no home,” he snarled, and his arm squeezed my neck. Sennor and Cynthia had needed another chance, had taken it when offered. Why wouldn’t he take this chance?

  “Cris—” Ren started.

  “I’m not stupid. I know the mages will kill me when they’re done with me. I have to do this. I have to take her.”

  Ren took a step closer. Bound hands, no weapon. What was he doing?

  “Why her?” Ren asked, fury edging his words.

  Cris scoffed. “She can read the map. She can interpret it. I have her, I have the knowledge.”

  Ren didn’t say anything to that—only stalked closer.

  “Cris.” I stood on my tiptoes trying to find air. My voice was nothing more than a sandy whisper. “We’re your friends—”

  “I have no friends!” His voice boomed in my ear, followed by pressure on my neck and a pop that reverberated so loud every other sound, every other sensation faded. Then the pain came as its echo. Blinding, raging pain.

  My lungs heaved, but there was no air to take in, like my…like my throat had collapsed.

  A crunch came from the side, a dark figure nothing more than a blur. It slammed into us, and I hit the ground in a heap. The muffled sounds of a fistfight, the glint of a sword in the grass out of my reach. I didn’t care. I writhed on the ground, scratching at my neck as my vision faded.

  Cold hands rested featherlight on my neck, warming more and more until their heat consumed me. The pop repeated, but no pain followed. Just air. Beautiful, crisp air that tasted like dirt and the sea and the night. I pushed Ren’s hands away, breaking his contact with my skin.

  Someone stepped in the grass near my arm. The glint of metal caught the edge of my vision. Cris bent, dragged the sword out of the grass. A dark stain spread from his nose.

  “Look out!” I gasped. Ren crouched on one knee over me, as if to shield me from the sword.

  Cris’s blade came down at Ren.

  “No!” I wanted to scream, to rage and leap to his aid. But all that came out was a whisper.

  Then Ren’s bound hands came up, a big rock within his grasp. He used it to deflect Cris’s blade just enough to miss his shoulder. Ren grabbed Cris’s arm, forcing the blade of the sword deep into the ground, then wrenched a dagger from its sheath at Cris’s waist. Ren spun fast and tripped Cris, sending him sprawling into the grass. He held the dagger between his knees and cut the rope binding his wrists.

  By that time, Cris was up again, several steps away, watching Ren warily.

  “We’re not friends,” Ren said.

  Laughter rang through the camp. Both men froze, though Ren never took his eyes off Cris. Everyone was awake now, watching the two Hálendians fight. Enzo held Mari tight, keeping her from running to help and getting in the way of their blades.

  Redalia stood on the shore, robes draped around her. “Oh no, by all means continue,” she said with a melodious chuckle. “I’d love to see who wins in this little battle of wills.”

  Koranth stood next to her, arms folded over his chest like he was watching a bit of sport.

  No. Each breath stung. My knee throbbed. I dragged myself backward as fast as I could, out of their path, but they stood between me and camp.

  “Isn’t this what you wanted?” Ren taunted Cris, spinning his blade as he stalked closer, a dark tone in his voice I’d never heard before. “Or did you only want to fight if I was weaponless?”

  Cris spit blood from his mouth to the side. “Always so arrogant. Pretending to know what’s best for others, what everyone else wants.”

  “Yet you can never figure out what you want. So don’t—”

  Cris interrupted with a lunge. I don’t know how Ren did it—the move was too fast for me to see—but his dagger slid along Cris’s sword, tangling with the hilt, and suddenly the sword was flying through the air. Cris punched Ren’s arm, and he dropped the dagger but snagged the sword.

  They circled each other once again. Cris tilted his head. “Just like old times. Except Jenna won’t save you now. No one will.”

  He sidestepped Ren. I didn’t realize he was coming for me until he was too close. I tried to scramble up, to run. He grabbed me. “I am valuable. She isn’t!” he screamed, the words ringing in my ears.

  How could I be so useless that he could use me against Ren twice?

  Ren went still. Everyone did. The air around Ren changed. Darkened. His hand raised slowly, palm forward. He stalked closer, picking his way through the brush.

  “Let her go,” he said, his voice flat and hard. “You want to fight? Fine, let’s fight.” He closed his hand into a fist, and I gasped as Cris released me. Not because the pressure was gone, but because I’d felt it—whatever Ren had done. Like a thick rope had slithered by me and wrapped around Cris.

  Cris fell to his knees, mouth open in a silent scream, arms at his sides. In the background somewhere, Redalia clapped.

  “No!” I yelled, and ran at Ren. I hit him full force, but he didn’t break focus, didn’t release Cris from the torture. Ren’s eyes grew darker until they were almost black. “No, Ren,” I said softly, brushing my hand against his arm. “Not like this. This isn’t who you are.”

  His face twitched, and his hand wavered. “It’s who I could be.”

  “No. Nothing is worth the cost of becoming like them.” He still didn’t move, and Cris was turning an alarming shade of gray. “Ren,” I whispered right in his ear. “Please. Don’t make this choice.”

  Ren’s eyes met mine, and for one brief moment, I thought I’d lost him. But then Cris slumped to the ground. Ren’s face crumpled, and his hand dropped to his side.

  “I didn’t mean…I almost…” He trailed off, shaking, staring over my shoulder where Cris lay. He fell to one knee, and I steadied him.

  “Excellently done,” Redalia purred from her spot by the coals. “I’m not sure even I could have picked out his life force when he was so close to—”

  “Look out!” Enzo called.

  I turned in time to see Cris lurch up, knife in hand. He pulled back and released it, and I watched, horrified, as it came at me, flying end over
end.

  Ren was there, sword in hand, and batted the knife out of the air as though it were a leaf. His sword shook in his hand and he left the point in the dirt. His chest heaved. My heart tripped and sped against my ribs, painful and too fast.

  “Stand down, Cris,” Ren said hoarsely. “It’s done. I don’t want to fight you. This isn’t who you are.”

  Cris picked up a rock and threw it at us. Ren put his hand out, and the rock smacked into his palm. What was Cris doing?

  Cris picked up another rock. “It’s done when I say it’s done,” he snarled. He threw the rock, but it went wide. He took another lurching step toward us. “You don’t get to command me in this. You don’t get to tell me how I feel or what I deserve or who I am.”

  I stayed behind Ren as Cris advanced, backing us toward the river.

  “What are you talking about?” Ren growled. He held his sword in front of him.

  “You can’t save me. I could have stopped my father, and saved yours. But I didn’t. Nothing can change that.” His voice wavered. “It’s my fault you’re all here—”

  One of my feet landed in icy water. I gasped, sharp pinpricks shooting up my leg.

  Ren’s focus turned to me, to see what had happened. Just for a moment. A breath. A heartbeat.

  So he didn’t see what I saw. How Cris lunged forward, impaling himself on Ren’s blade.

  Ren’s eyes widened and his lips parted. His head snapped forward and he released the hilt like it was on fire. But it was too late.

  Cris fell to his knees, the sword deep in his chest, blood spreading over his shirt. He looked up at Ren, and in a gurgling whisper, said, “I’m sorry.”

  He’d…he’d…I’d offered him another chance. Why didn’t he take it? Why…

  He fell to one side, eyes open. Unseeing. Ren stood frozen, staring at his now-lifeless friend. I reached my hand out to him as if moving through molasses. As soon as it touched his arm, he flinched away from it, from me. He fell to his knees, hands outstretched to his friend, his face almost as gray as Cris’s.