by Kaylin Lee
It had been weeks since my nerves had felt this degree of peace. Weeks of paralysis and Elektra’s torture, then the exhausting journey back to Asylia, followed by the terrifying arrival of the storm.
And now, as I strained my muscles and thought of nothing but perfecting my form on each repetition, peace was finally mine.
For the next hour, I lost myself in the pressure and perfection of training. I didn’t speak. I was barely aware of Tavar training beside me and occasionally guiding my weights back into the rack.
When my muscles were finally too exhausted to continue, Tavar was already gone, sparring with another Sentinel on the far side of the room.
I put my weights away and made my way toward the door, relaxed and hungry.
“You’re leaving?” Corbin stepped between me and the door.
“I’m done training.” I raised an eyebrow. “Going to go find some victus before bed.”
“Aren’t you going to wait for …” He stalled, then glanced over my shoulder. “You know, aren’t you going to wait?”
I shook my head. I was too tired to make sense of him. “I’m hungry. I’m leaving.”
“So you don’t know.” Corbin wiped his sweat-drenched face with his shirt, then frowned at me, looking bemused. “He hasn’t told you.”
I rubbed my hands on my loose, black training pants. My stomach felt funny now—more than just hungry. “Told me what?”
Again, he glanced over his shoulder toward the Sentinels sparring on the mat, and when he turned back and met my eyes, he released a dry, exasperated laugh. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m an idiot, helping him.”
“Helping—”
“Tavar’s the one who kissed you.” Corbin’s good-natured tone dimmed to one of quiet resignation. “He broke your curse.”
Chapter 29
Tavar’s the one who kissed you. He broke your curse. Corbin’s words circled and collided in my head, overwhelming me with meaning I couldn’t even begin to grasp.
Everything felt funny now—my skin, my hands, the cold, wobbly floor beneath my bare feet. I peered at Corbin’s familiar face, the only anchor in a sudden storm of confusion. “How?” The word was a bare puff of a whisper. And why? And what did that even—
“True love’s kiss. Some ancient Kireth thing.” Corbin shrugged and looked up at the ceiling, sounding exasperated again. “Trust me, I thought Tavar was an emotionless, Sentinel-shaped rock, too. But I was there, I saw it, and there’s no denying the truth. You were stuck to the bed in that creepy silver dress, and the dress was coming out of your skin. It was horrifying. Nothing would cut through it, and we shattered three crystals trying to break the curse with no luck. He said your sister’s the one who figured it out and told him to kiss you. He did it, and now … here you are.”
He leaned closer. “And as much as I don’t want to say this, I will. He’s a good man. You should give him a chance.” He ran his hand through his sweaty hair and grinned, showing off a dimple on one side. “But if you don’t want to, I’m always—”
“Your next match is waiting.” Tavar shoved Corbin none-too-gently back to the Sentinels behind them, cutting off his words.
Corbin went without protest—which was strange, for him—leaving me to face Tavar alone as the rest of the training room seemed to fade into muted, distant noise.
Tavar’s posture was easy and relaxed until he met my eyes. He stiffened almost imperceptibly at whatever he saw there. “What’d Corbin say?”
For the first time in years, I felt heat rush to my cheeks. I’d been terrified, hurt, lonely, and miserable for the past five years, never embarrassed. “That you broke my curse. That you—” I fumbled, my lips and tongue unwilling to cooperate as I searched for the words. “That— I mean—”
“That I’m in love with you.” The still, alertness in his stance set me on edge. There was a slight color to his cheeks as his blue eyes bore steadily into mine. “He’s right. I am.”
I tore my gaze away and dove for my boots, putting my socks and shoes on with shaky, clammy fingers. The curse. Focus on the curse. “So you kissed me, and it just broke, just like that?”
He put his boots on with calm, measured movements, then finished tying them both before my fumbling attempts had even managed one lace.
Tavar knelt by my feet and grasped my trembling hands, pulling them off my boots and holding my hands in his own.
I didn’t want to look at him, so I focused on the sight of our hands together, his large, mine small by comparison, both equally callused. How many times had we touched in five years of training together? And yet now the soft, warm feel of his skin made me want to escape these narrow walls, to run straight into the storm if I had to—
“Yes. Just like that.” He searched my face, then dropped my hands and tied my boots for me. I watched his gentle, efficient movements from behind a hazy curtain of panic. When he finished, he stood, towering over me. “Let’s take a walk.”
My stomach lurched, but I managed to nod. He held out a hand to help me to my feet. I ignored it and stood on my own.
The hallway seemed even darker and narrower than usual. We left the training corridor and soon left its noise behind, circling through the dead-quiet of late evening deep inside the palace.
We walked side by side, never touching, though Tavar’s near presence seemed as bright and dangerous as a flame. I edged away as we walked, desperate for safety.
I’ve already won. Elektra’s nightmare voice hissed through my memory, as clear as if she’d spoken in my ear. You are nothing without me, nothing without me, nothing without—
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Bri.” Tavar stopped abruptly and faced me, ran a hand over his face. The skin beneath his eyes was shadowy, I noticed for the first time. “I need to know what’s going through your head.”
My back met something hard and smooth—the hallway wall. Had I retreated so far without realizing it? I sank on weak legs and sat, leaning my head back against the wall, somehow already too tired to lift it on my own. Tavar joined me, sinking to sit an arm’s length away.
I fingered my shoelaces, grateful my hands had finally stopped shaking. Then I stretched my legs out and stared at the chipped, old stones in the opposite wall. “What am I thinking?” I shook my head again, hating the thoughts in my head but unable to quiet them. “The curse controlled me for five straight years, Tav. When we met as recruits, I was already cursed. It was the curse that drove me to become a Sentinel, the curse that allowed me to train with you—the curse controlled everything. I’m grateful you broke the curse. I am.” I stared at the wall without blinking, afraid to look at Tavar as I spoke. “But whatever you felt when you did it, it wasn’t real love. How could it have been? You didn’t know the real me. If you’d known who I truly was, you’d never have been able to break the curse.” I pulled my knees up to my chin and wrapped my arms around them, suddenly cold. “That’s what I’m thinking.” I wasn’t looking at his face, so why did it feel like I’d just shot him square in the chest with a freshly sharpened bolt?
He was silent. When I dared a glance to the side, his eyes were on me, steady and piercingly clear, his features fine in the low light of the hallway. There was no trace of the flinch I could have sworn I’d felt a moment earlier.
After a long moment, Tavar nodded slowly. “I guess it was the curse that helped me clean up the mess those recruits left for me in the main compound all those years ago, was it? And the curse forced you to be nice to my grandfather, and made you defend me when the other recruits made fun of my accent?”
His tone was clipped, but there was just a touch of humor glinting in his eyes.
“Not—”
“Well, this is the real Bri now, right? Helping Raven plan a mission to save the continent? Training with so much grace and passion, I just fell in love all over again?”
“Fell in— What—” Blood rushed to my face. “I don’t know what you’re—”
“I understand, Bri. Do
n’t worry about it. Don’t worry about us.” His clipped tone softened. “I’m the one who should be worried.”
“Why?”
“I’ve only known one thing for certain for the past few years—that I’d do anything for you. And now, you’re …”
“What? I’m what?”
He shook his head, the odd flash in his eyes as he glanced sideways at me sending a shiver through me. “You’re awake. I don't stand a chance.”
My mouth fell open. “I— You—”
“You just show me who you truly are, and I’ll keep falling in love with you. And we’ll see what happens, got it?”
“You can’t keep talking like that!” I sputtered. “It’s the end of the world. The Masters are literally draining our lives away next week.” I was right, obviously. So why did it feel like I was the crazy one, grasping at straws to keep him from smiling so confidently like that?
“That’s right. The end of the world.” His tone grew sober. “Guess I better not take five years to put you first this time.” He stood. “Good night, Bri. I’ll see you in the morning.” The intensity in his blue eyes before he turned away sent my stomach lurching all over again.
He left me alone in the hallway, and when I finally found my way back to my room, everyone was already asleep.
The bedsheets were suffocatingly soft. I hated knowing the walls in this tiny room were so close to me, hated the windowless darkness, thick enough to feel like a blanket of its own.
Worst of all, I hated knowing I had butterflies in my stomach from Tavar’s flirting while thirty people lay in that horrible crater, cursed in my place.
I’ve already won. Elektra’s voice followed me back into my nightmares as I drifted off to sleep. You’re nothing without me. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
Chapter 30
“You say you can turn the storm on the Masters. Set its power on them—and confine it to the crater?” The only aid in Prince Estevan’s government who was still conscious sat across the room from Chloe. Damon was red-faced, with blistered cheeks, and he kept rubbing his temples, but the stubborn man refused to leave the meeting.
It was morning, and I had been summoned to meet with the prince, his wife, and the researchers, including Ella, in Prince Estevan’s dusty, old Sentinels office under the palace. It probably hadn’t seen so many visitors since the Sentinels headquarters moved to their own building.
“They’ve built their own trap.” Chloe crossed her legs. “The crater is lined with rock that is impervious to magic. Placed outside the crater, the storm coming from that statue will absorb all the life in the continent except the life in the crater.”
“But move the storm inside the crater,” Prince Estevan said, his brow furrowed, “and it will wipe out the life within and leave the rest of the continent alone, ending this once and for all.”
Damon laughed humorlessly—the sound was incongruous coming from his blistered, drained face. “How long would that take? Is there an estimate for that?”
“If it takes twelve days to obliterate the continent, it should take mere minutes to absorb all the magic in the crater. Six, we calculated last night. But that’s just an estimate.” She pursed her lips. “As everyone keeps reminding me.”
“Six minutes?” Belle scowled. “What if they escape before the storm kills them?”
“It will take six minutes to finish absorbing the crater, but we’ll accelerate it so it gets very strong, very fast,” Professor Kristoff said, shuffling a pile of notes. “They won’t have time to run.”
“What about the hostages?” Damon rubbed his brow. “If Briar Rose here was cursed for five years and needed … What was it? True love’s kiss?”
Ella beamed. “Mmm-hmm.”
“Briar Rose needed true love’s kiss to break her curse,” Damon continued, winking at me before the humor faded from his expression, “so how are we going to break the curse they put on the hostages?”
“According to Kireth legend, there are several levels of curses.” Professor Kristoff plucked a sheet of note paper from the table in front of him and held it in front of his nose. “They grow in power based on their source. The weakest curses are those made from will that was forcibly taken. The stronger ones come from things like aurae, in which the giver of will was tricked into cooperation but not actively fighting it. And the most powerful curses are fueled by the will of the mage making them.
“It sounds as if Briar Rose’s curse was fueled by the will of one of the most powerful Masters, the same mage who created her curse. From what Bri has told us, this is rare for the Masters. When the cursed trap was laid for her rescuers, the Masters used curses they’d already made, most likely distilled from the will of aurists or other unwilling donors in the Badland.”
Damon nodded. “If you’re right, obcillo crystals will do the trick, huh? Good.” He paused. “I hate to say this, but how do you even know they’re alive?”
Raven nodded toward me. “Tell them what you told me.”
“The Master named Elektra likes to use torture curses.” I twisted my fingers in the fabric of my pants pockets. “She made my sleeping curse and designed it so that my body would sleep while my mind would be awake, so she could still torture me. That’s how I overheard so much while I was with them. And before I was rescued, I heard her order the other mages to do the same thing with the Sentinels who came. To curse them but keep them alive for entertainment.”
The room was silent. I stared at the floor and busied myself by counting the number of diamond shapes on the room’s faded, burgundy carpet.
“I see.” Prince Estevan’s voice sounded hollow. “Thank you, Briar Rose.”
I nodded, hoping I didn’t look as flustered as I felt.
“Chloe,” Princess Belle said, her voice sharp. “Can you confirm that this Elektra hasn’t changed her mind yet?”
Chloe lifted a large mirror from a bag at her feet and propped it up carefully on the table. “Weslan and I were experimenting last week and poured enough magic into it to take us to the crater, I imagine. But those seconds are all we’ll have. I should conserve the rest of my magic for … later.”
I frowned at her, but no explanation came.
Princess Belle shivered. “Then this is the only chance we’ll have.”
Chloe nudged the mirror to the center of the table, directly in front of her face. “Just say when.”
We gathered around the mirror, huddling together over Chloe’s shoulders. “Everyone look closely,” she instructed. “Remember whatever details you can, and we’ll put them together afterward.” She met my eyes in the mirror. “Bri, can you think of anything reflective in the crater that might give us a close view of the hostages?”
“There are crystal chandeliers.” I cleared my throat. “There was one right over my bed. Should give us a view of the whole ballroom, if you can somehow use a surface like that.”
“I’ll try.”
Chloe twisted the stopper out of a small vial that sat on the table. The tingle of ancient Kireth alchemy made my skin itch with familiarity and dread.
“Can you actually use this thing?” Damon eyed the mirror with a visible dread.
“We tested it a few times. Never outside the city,” Chloe said, her lips tight. “But it’s all we have. It will work. I’ll make it work.”
Belle rested a hand on Chloe’s arm. “Save your own magic for what’s coming,” she said softly, bending toward Chloe, a rare, sympathetic crease to her brows. “Just do your best.”
Chloe’s fingers trembled as she poured the silvery liquid from the vial at the top of the small mirror, letting it drip down the surface like a tiny, slow-moving wave. She pressed her index finger into the silver goo and leaned close to the mirror.
The silver liquid dribbled down, then began to vibrate, the droplets separating unnaturally and drawing near the edges of the mirror, leaving the center clear.
For a moment, it simply reflected Chloe’s face, her dark gaze worried, and the crowd of us
over her shoulder. Then the image flashed—a tree, another tree, the rocky overhang of what might have been a cave, the silvery-white sky whipping with stormy wind. The changes sped up, flashing too fast for me to track, and suddenly slowed and cleared to reveal the ballroom.
I pressed a hand to my mouth. Black-clad bodies lay prone throughout the ballroom, wrapped in enormous rose vines that writhed over and under them like a den of hungry snakes.
Elektra moved among them, a drizzle of silver liquid dripping onto first one Sentinel, then another. She stopped beside a blonde woman.
I made a sound. Someone’s hand squeezed mine—Ella’s. Mom’s face in the mirror was emotionless and frozen even as red marks from the torture curse appeared on her hands, neck, and cheeks.
There was a muffled noise from the mirror, an amused laugh. Elektra shook the last of the curse out of the bottle over her. “Feel nice, traitor?” she murmured. “Isn’t it satisfying when the weak are—”
There was a quiet sizzle, and the silver droplets disappeared, taking the scene with them. In its place was Chloe’s tortured expression, the rest of us a collection of wide, horrified eyes behind her shoulder. She met my eyes in the mirror. “Bri.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
I released Ella’s hand and paced to the other side of the room, blinking to clear my vision from the silver light, wishing I could clear the sight of my mother covered in burns the same way. I pressed my hands to my eyes, then dropped them. “Did anyone else see what that wind was doing?”
Damon rubbed his neck. “The wind? When did you see the storm?”
“In the first few reflections.” Ella studied me, her brow furrowed. “It was moving in a new way, wasn’t it?”
“Straight across the sky.” I motioned with my hand. “Straight toward the crater.”
“You think they’re … what, drawing the storm back toward themselves?” Chloe scowled. “They wouldn’t—”
“‘We’ll be swimming in magic.’” I was going to be sick. “That’s what they said, when I was there. They said they’ll be swimming in it.”
