“Right. Like if someone next to me on the bus chewed a banana with their mouth open.”
“You’d be well within your rights to send the earth into a black hole for that. Anyone would agree.”
Still, sharp thoughts clawed at the back of my mind.
Something wasn’t right, and I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.
“Any chance we can move faster?” he asked.
“I’d love to. Except then I’d find it hard to follow the sound of the athame. It actually works better if we don’t talk.”
Lyr fell into silence again, but after a few minutes, I was the one to break it.
“I need to clarify something. What exactly do we do when we find the athame? Do you think it’s bad if I touch it?”
“I’ll take it. I’ll conduct the spell to destroy the fuath.”
He seemed a little too eager.
A dark part of me chafed at the idea of giving over the athame—the Meriadoc power—to him. It was my athame. It would direct my family’s sea magic. What if he drew power from it, and he sucked it all away?
“Lyr,” I said again. “Athames are used to conduct power, but they can store it, too. I mean, do you think I could get some of it back? For myself?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I don’t know. But that’s not our primary objective.”
I gritted my teeth. Not his primary objective. Nor was it mine, I supposed, but gods, I wanted that power.
The city seemed to grow older around us as we walked, the buildings of golden stone.
“Once I find this athame, and give it over to you—I’ll be handing over something clearly very important, with the power to defeat spirits, and it belongs to my family. To me. Are you hiding anything else important from me? Because I mostly trust you now.”
Thorns grew in the silence, until at last he spoke. “I will support you to reclaim the throne of Ys like you deserve. That’s all you need to know. And now, all we need to think about is finding the athame. Because once we destroy the fuath, we can get Gina back.”
“That’s not all I need to know.”
I wasn’t even sure I wanted the throne. After years of being vulnerable, I wanted my power back. I wanted to feel that soul connection to the sea once more. But did I want to fight to rule a kingdom of people I hardly knew, who thought I was an idiot? They’d been very quick to believe I was a monster, and I didn’t particularly feel like expending the effort to convince them.
I didn’t need a kingdom. I just wanted safety, wealth, and the power to control the seas—was that so much to ask?
Still, with Gina held captive, waiting for me, this wasn’t the time to argue about a magical object. Lyr was right about one thing—we needed to keep our minds sharply focused before the fuath disrupted us again.
I followed the Meriadoc song up a stone staircase set into a hill. We were crossing inside the ancient walls that surrounded the old city. People were moving around, drinking coffee, eating pastries.
The song was growing louder, and I increased my pace, my heart racing.
Then, Lyr froze, sniffing the air. When he whirled, my stomach lurched. I turned to see four of the possessed knights running up the hill for us, swords drawn. I recognized Melisande and Gwydion among them, but I didn’t know the names of the other two.
I pulled the dagger from my sheath. Then, I whispered an attack spell and magic sparkled down my arm.
Lyr shot me a quick look. “Don’t fight, Aenor. Run. Just find it for me.”
For me. I noted his word choice.
His shadowy demigod power curled off his body, sending a jolt of dread through my blood.
“Will you be able to track me?” I asked.
“Yes, and I’ll take care of the other knights while you go.”
I pivoted and took off at a run. I turned sharply off a cobbled road onto a narrow path—too small for cars, crammed on either side with shops selling coffee or scarves or baubles. A stream of people were moving up and down the street, blocking my way.
It was hard to track the athame at this pace, but I needed to get far away from the fuath. Once I’d found a place to hide, I’d slow down again until I could properly track the athame.
A shadow loomed above me, and for a moment, I thought it was just one of the ancient arches above the narrow road. But when it moved, I realized Melisande had found me. She was swooping above me in circles, her orange wings beating the air. I sprinted faster, pumping my arms.
I careened down the sloped alley, trying to dodge passersby. I veered away from a woman with a stroller, knocking into a table of sweets. The shop owner shouted at me.
Mentally, I tried to stay focused on the sound of the athame, but it was nearly impossible while I was running wildly through tiny medieval streets crammed with shoppers. Melisande hadn’t come back again, but I wasn’t letting up my pace.
Gods have mercy. Where could I hide here? The little shops around me were like traps.
I took the stairs three at a time, my hip catching on a stand of pistachios. Nuts everywhere. This might be the worst city in the world for Gina.
Then, Melisande circled above me again, and my blood went cold. She was following above me, swooping lower. She’d drawn a sword, and I had a feeling she was intent on connecting its blade with my body.
I chanted a spell, and my sea magic electrified my nerves. Melisande dove for me, swinging for my head. I ducked, and the tip of her sword landed in a plaster wall, just missing my skull. Her attack had missed, but she gracefully landed on the earth, and her smile chilled my blood. She pulled her blade from the wall, ready to swing for me again.
Around us, humans were screaming hysterically, running in either direction.
I flung an attack spell at her through the end of my blade. She dodged it, and it slammed into a ceramic nativity set behind her, sending tiny magi crashing to the ground.
She swung for me again, and I shifted. But this time, the blade caught my side.
“Oh, Aenor,” she cooed. “You’ll have to try harder.”
If she hadn’t been possessed by the fuath, this situation would have been worse. The real Melisande was an expert in enchantment, and she’d force me to carve my own eyes out or something. But the spirit possessing her wouldn’t have learned a skill that took centuries to develop.
I flung the knife at her chest, but she blocked it with her sword. It bounced off her blade, clattering to the stones.
“Aenor,” she purred. “Disgraced princess. The dethroned wretch. I’ll do a better job than you ruling Nova Ys.”
“What makes you think that’s going to happen?” I shouted.
I flicked my wrist, sending another blast of attack magic her way. It hit her in the chest, but without the blade to direct it, the charge wasn’t as powerful.
She staggered back, her chest smoking.
But I made the fatal error of looking her in the—stunning, fiery—eyes. Instantly, I could feel the power of her enchantment whispering around me. Melisande’s expert enchantment… How had the fuath learned this skill from her?
“Aenor…” My fists clenched as her voice rang in my mind. “Aenor Dahut.”
She kicked the dagger closer to me, and it spun over the ground. I breathed in her scent—orange blossoms. She smelled like the goddess Melisande. Not like the fuath.