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As I draw closer to Magda, I spot The Siren cutting through the water. They’re still a day out from shore, but close enough to stir unease in my chest. What’s Bleu doing returning now? What rumors has he heard? Maybe there’s news of the royals. Maybe he knows what I now rule. If he’s aware of any traces of Archer’s schemes, I’ll find out.
I know they’re rivals on the sea, but rivalries are easy to dismiss in the face of treasure and greed. I worry for Mira, wondering if Bleu ever intends to tell her the truth about her destiny, or if he’s going to continue letting fate circle her in silence.
The journey feels longer than it did before, my magic waning. I ease at the sight of the first light of dawn spilling gold across the island of Magda. The sky blooms in soft pinks and burning oranges, clouds catching fire as the sun rises behind them. I love my island. Scenes like this are a reminder of how beautiful it is, even with its darkness.
The Slayers Academy, tucked deep behind the trees and hidden from the world, comes into view like a sigh of relief. I scan the area, noting that no one is around. Making my way to the top of the building, my talons scrape stone as they find purchase. I steady myself before shifting back into human form, lungs burning as bone and flesh realign. The relief is almost unbearable, and I stumble on my weary legs.
I reach into my pocket and pull free a key. Gripping the edge of the roof, I swing myself down, hanging just enough to reach the window. My arm stretches as far as it will go to guide the key into the lock. The soft click that follows is the sweetest sound I’ve heard in two days of flight.
I swing inside, my boots hitting the stone floor with a quiet thud.
Everything is exactly as I left it, the door still secured. I shrug off my cloak and toss it onto the chair behind my desk before crossing the room to the table beside my bed. I pour myself a glass of saltwater and drink deeply.
The salt lights up my insides, heat and energy blooming through my veins. I feel alive again, as if I’d been slowly dying until the water touched my body. My gods… the way I would feel if I could exist in the form I was born to inhabit. To swim through the ocean, the one thing I can never touch, and to feel her presence wrap around me like a warm embrace. I sigh. The sky will have to suffice.
My eyes drift to my bed, soft and waiting for me. I strip down until I’m left in nothing but my undergarments and slide beneath the covers, the silk sheets whispering against my skin. I rest my head on the pillow and stare up at the ceiling. There’s too much waiting for me, too much I still need to see to. The four royals in the prison cell below still need to be put under my blade, and I need to catch up with Thalos about what’s happened in my absence. I need to see Zorren, Nyra too. I need to tell her the truth about Maddoc.
But for now, what I need more than anything else is rest.
I leave the window open, letting the sound of the waves lull me to sleep.
The hallway echoes as my boots tap lightly with each step down to the chamber. The lower level of the Academy was designed so that not even the most skilled slayer could go unnoticed here.
Korrin did some digging—and by digging, I mean torture—but even he only managed to gain surface-level information from the four royals. Elias Blacktide is the highest ranked out of all of them. He’s the one I’ll interrogate myself. Poor man. He’s going to regret not talking to Korrin when he meets me.
I unlock the steel door, the heavy bolt echoing down the hallway. Stepping into the dark room, I’m instantly hit with the smell of blood. I strike a match against the wall and guide the warm flame up to the lantern hanging from the ceiling. It sparks to life.
Elias sits in the corner of the room, bloodied, beaten, and swollen. A sharp flash of Maddoc’s broken body hits me, and I’m glad for the dim lighting that hides the expression that crosses my face.
“Come to finish me off?” he asks, his voice raspy, starving for water. Dehydration is one of the quickest ways to die, but unfortunately for his sake, he didn’t succumb to it in time to save himself further suffering. I stay where I am, keeping my distance.
“If you answer my questions, I’ll make it quick.” I unsheathe Maddoc’s dagger that’s strapped to my arm, the sharp blade catching the lantern’s flame. “I’d take that bargain if I were you.” I step closer, still keeping a few feet between us. He’s young, early twenties maybe.
“I told the other all he asked. What do you want?” His tone reveals that he’s a man with nothing left to live for. Korrin may have extracted some basic information, but the answers I need are ones I don’t even want him to know.
“I need to hear everything you know of the king.” I crouch to his level, the dagger resting lazily in my hand.
He recoils. “Uncomfortable?” I ask calmly. “We’re only talking.”
“I can’t speak of the king. I’m under oath.” He chokes the words out of his dry throat.
“What good is an oath if you’re dead?” My brow arches as I tilt my head. “I just want to know some things. Who is he in league with?” I’ve known for some time, felt it in my bones, that the king is working with a darker magic. No one man could as many islands as the kingdom of Vespera has, could control this many people and creatures, especially as a mortal human.
His eyes drift to the flame. “I didn’t know there was a lantern in here,” he murmurs, his gaze falling back to me. “It’s been so dark.” His short, dark-brown hair is matted with blood and sweat.
I stand and slowly make my way toward him. I crouch, scanning his body and taking note that Korrin has broken most of his fingers, his go-to method. “Ten tries to get what I need,” he used to say.
“I believe I asked a question,” I bite sharply. No more wasting time.
“I don’t know who he’s in league with. It’s not public knowledge,” he rasps, his swollen blue eyes drifting around the room as if he’s seeing it for the first time. So he’s in league with someone, then. He didn’t outright deny the accusation. I believe him.
“And what about the magical creatures he tortures?” The most important question. Elias goes still at the mention of the king’s little side project, and I know I’m onto something.
“I can’t speak on it. Under oath,” he says, repeating the same stiff sentiment. I don’t want to cause him more pain than he’s already in. Any more and he’ll start blabbing nonsense and lies just to get it to stop. Korrin was thorough. Too thorough. This man is on the brink of death. I ought to put him out of his misery now. Even if he were released, he wouldn’t last. Rotting in here as long as he has, broken, open wounds festering, he’d die of infection before he found freedom.
However, I have a reputation to uphold and an entire academy watching me. They expect cruelty. So I swallow hard and shut off the last part of myself fighting to show my humanity, whatever’s left of it. And like I’m blowing out a flame, I brace for the cold that follows.
Something dark rises in my chest. His swollen eyes try to open as wide as they can when they meet mine.