Page 22 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

Kora relaxed as the guards retreated. Erick directed Agatha’s wavering, aged hands to a glass and helped her guide it to her lips. Despite their bickering, Erick had miraculously cared for Agatha for over a month and kept her alive in the dungeons.

It was almost enough for Kora to forgive him . . . but not quite. Ivar had helped a bit, too.

“Now, eat something. Before their blood ruins all this divine food.”

Kora’s mind tore between eating or using the cutlery knife as a weapon. Her finger stroked down the polished metal as she imagined embedding it in Barron’s eyes. On one hand, she could regain her strength and use her power against Barron, but once he revealed the talisman, it would drain her dry again. She had a better chance of using the skills Erick had taught her, fighting her way out.

Either way, her freedom was her primary goal. Getting off this gods-damned island the next, and putting a stop to all this madness a third.

Her fingers curled around the knife and she steadied her breath. She was sure Blake tracked every movement she made like a hawk as he lurked behind her . . . yet he wasn’t stopping her. His presence was so close to Ivar’s, Kora worried he may be spotted. But that male belonged to the shadows more than Blake did.

“Has it been done yet?” a shrill voice appeared, followed by a familiar figure.

Oh, gods no.

Bree glided into the room. Newly shortened braids swished around her shoulders with golden hoops. A tight blue dress graced her curves before billowing out below her knees, embroidered with lace and jewels. Her matching eyes narrowed on Kora as she came to a stop at the opposite end of the table.

“You look ghastly,” Bree quipped as she sneered at Kora’s gown. How lovely.

“Nice to see you too,” Kora replied flatly.

“Lady Hydrafort,” Barron’s smile frosted. “You have impeccable timing as always.” Was that irritation in his voice?

“Well, has it been done? She looks drained to me. I want my velesma back.” Bree opened her palm and her golden bangles clinked together on her wrist.

Barron stood, his dark power continuously leaking around him as if he possessed tendrils like a kraken. He prowled around the table, his coldness increasing. Bree wavered, her steely gaze faltering as her arm dropped to her side.

“May I remind you,” Barron’s tone caused Kora’s flesh to prickle. “That we are only in this situation because you wasted the gift that I gave you. The velesma is not a toy.”

Bree lifted her chin, staring down her nose at Barron. “The people needed to see my gifts. They needed to know that I am the image of the new world.”

“Parlour tricks and magic shows do not have a place in my new world!” Barron’s lips curled in disgust.

“Who’s the spoilt brat?” Agatha chimed, as she gazed the opposite way.

Kora suppressed a laugh as Bree scoffed at Agatha.

“I am the heiress of the House of Hydrafort, betrothed to the Barron heir, Blake Marwood. I am the future of the new world, the wielder of the water element.” Bree’s jewelled hand grasped Blake’s arm, her fingers curling until he winced. Blake leaned away, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stared at a singular point on the floor.

“Absolute hogwash,” Agatha snapped. “Kora is the true descendent of Calypso. Only she has that gift.”

Bree spluttered like a spoilt princess who hadn’t gotten her way. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, hag.”

Almighty Thanos. Kora recoiled in shock. What had happened to Bree? When had someone so beautiful become something so . . . ugly. “She’s blind!”

“If you couldn’t tell.” Agatha’s head snapped, staring directly at Bree with her eerie white eyes. The thickened air condensed, a subtle vibration curling across Kora’s body and into her chest.

Bree’s attention returned to Kora. Oh, good gods. She couldn’t wait for the next round of vitriol to spew from her pouted perfect lips.

“She has no gift. She has wasted it, and it no longer answers to her. In fact, you have no one left, do you?”

Kora shrugged. “At least I’m not some pompous heiress that expects magical handouts.”

Bree’s eyes flashed and she stormed over to Kora. “Power the velesma, now.”

“Ah, I would. But my power’s gone. You drained every drop . . . and wasted it.” Kora smiled lazily as she swirled her hands to prove her point.

“Dearest, she needs time to recover,” Blake spoke. Kora nearly vomited. Dearest?