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I stood on the pier, watching as Tayln pulled the ferry back in, the ropes on the attached side pulled free. They only ever pulled the ferry’s free if the Qits moved to new fishing ground or in case of illness or war.
Or, I suppose, me.
I didn’t dare move as I watched him go, watched the world and the people I had worked so hard to save drift away.
I could see little more than the shape of the Qit from where I stood, one small figure still standing on the pier waiting for her father to arrive, waiting for something that would never come.
Something that she would spend her life waiting for, that would fuel her into something grander. That death, that traumatic loss that Mother had told me about.
Not only had it happened, but I had been the one to bring it about, was that how it had always been? It couldn’t be, because I wasn’t there before.
The thought drifted away as I stood there, staring at the girl, her hair whipping around her, catching the golden beams of the sun as it continued to rise, the brightness of it turning the waves to golden glass. Turning her into a bright spot. Just like Lily. As I stood there, she looked like Lily.
Like the girl that would come after. The only one I truly wished to save.
Whatever had been cracking inside of me shattered and I bellowed in pain and loss, tears pouring from me as I scrambled to the end of the pier, knowing that even if I swam to her, swam to them all, they would simply end me.
I stood there, staring at the girl that would create my mother, my sister, and me. She didn’t move, she knew what I had done, too. She knew I had failed her.
That I had failed them all.
But perhaps not yet.
After all, I still had a Queen to kill, and now it didn’t matter if I lived or died in the process. None of it mattered.
Only Lilly. Only revenge for what that woman had done to her.
That was all I had left.
Which meant one thing, we were all going to a wedding.
I shoved all that pain and agony down into the same black pit I had forced it to live in for so many years, where I had forced it to fester. With my hands on my blades, I stood, giving the girl a nod I was sure she could not see as I watched the black speck of the Qit drift away and I turned; walking away from everything.
Chapter 21
Elara
Thwack!
I barely blocked him, the hit hard enough that it vibrated through my arms. He had been getting faster and more brutal with each hour of this never ending training session. With only two days to prepare, I should be grateful that I was at least getting a taste of what a real fight should be, but I was exhausted. My entire body shook as I dropped my arms and saw exactly what that hit had done.
The wooden sword that had seen the Boy and I through so many training sessions, and was more than a little dented and battered, had been cleaved in half.
I heaved in breath, chest shaking as I wiped the sweat from my brow, well aware that it was dripping on and over every possible part of my body. Every inch from head to toe was damp and sticky, giant rings clinging to my dress and sticking the cotton to my skin. I could barely move, and I was not the one wearing head to toe leathers.
“Do you need a break?” I asked, my words coming in beats between breaths. He clicked twice and shook his head, flipping his battered wooden blade end over end.
“Good, me neither.” I was still having trouble forming complete sentences. I didn’t miss the chuckle that echoed behind his shroud. It was late, the sun had set hours ago, or I thought it had, everything was blending together between thwacks. We really should be done for the day, or night, or morning, or whatever it was; but at this point, fight training was probably more valuable than sleep.
Trying my hardest to control my breathing, I rose to my full height and glared him down. No way was I going to stop now. His chuckle ended with a sharp intake of breath as he flipped the sword again, gesturing toward me and then the chaise with his other hand.
“I’ll rest after this is over. For now,” I swung the sword forward. If he didn’t start the next round, I would. The broken stub of wood I held out, however, was anything but ominous. He chuckled again, which earned him another look.
“Well, what else am I supposed to fight with?” I heaved again. At least the words all came out in one go that time. He flipped his sword again and shook his head, again gesturing toward the chaise.
“I’m not resting. We have to keep going. The Pankreatin is tomorrow night, and I’ll face much more than wooden swords.” Saying it aloud tightened that knot in my chest.
I really didn’t know what I would be facing.
