Then—called up by her shrieking song, salty water slowly began to rise up my throat, stopping me from completing my spell. I gagged as it climbed up my esophagus, and it filled my lungs. Pain spread through my chest.
I fell to my hands and knees, vomiting up rotten seawater onto the floor.
I couldn’t drown—not in the sea.
And yet I was drowning here in a cave, at the hands of my own mother.
Chapter 38
Lyr dropped my mother to the floor, and she fell onto her backside. Her crown slipped over her eyes, and the roar she unleashed bellowed off the cave walls. But her spell was still choking us.
Lyr was drowning too, on his knees, his eyes bulging. Somehow, his magic still spun from his fingertips, twining around my mother. Her chest started to bulge, like her ribs were about to explode.
I gagged up more seawater, desperate for air. I needed to breathe, oh gods I just needed a breath of air.
I glanced up again, and Lyr was trying to rip her heart out of her chest. I didn’t want to see it, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
Another burst of water in my lungs, climbing up my throat. Air. Air. Air. My lungs were about to explode, my own chest ready to burst open.
When I looked up again, wiping my mouth, I stared at Queen Malgven.
Her chest looked completely intact, and viny ropes of magic were now spilling wildly from her, curling around the Ankou.
Lyr’s enormous body vibrated with the effort of trying to move. She’d frozen him—the powerful demigod, the Ankou. She was more powerful than he was.
What kind of a monster had he created?
Her smile could wilt flowers. She walked closer to Lyr. “I want to hear what your screams sound like when I drive iron through your tendons. The trick is to make sure you don’t lose consciousness, so you can tell me what I need to know. I’ll peel your skin off in long, thin strips.”
I forced myself to my feet, gasping—one ragged breath, one glorious lungful of air—when slimy seawater started choking me again, smothering my lungs.
Gods, I need air. I slammed down to my knees again.
“Stay on your knees where you belong, girl,” she spoke to me, even as she stared at the tendrils of magic spilling from her fingertips. “I need to ask the usurper a few questions. I’ve got him exactly where I need him.”
The thick, heavy scent of the sea pressed down on us like rotten sand. I felt trapped deep in the abyss, unable to breathe.
I kept my eyes on my mother, trying to stand again.
She lifted her fingertips—her claws—in front of Lyr’s face. “I had my nails done. Iron doesn’t hurt me anymore, since I recovered from death. I’ll give you once chance to tell me how to get to my kingdom before I start carving into your flesh.”
The magical bindings around Lyr were cutting into his skin, drawing blood. They’d immobilized him.
I was still gripping the athame, but I couldn’t breathe.
One breath—one glorious breath of air filled my lungs. Then, another wave of foul seawater rose in my throat.
When I looked up again at Lyr, I saw that my mother had draped herself on him like a lover. Except she was digging an iron claw into his shoulder, opening his old wound. She wiggled her nail around, and I could see the pain etched on his features. The urge to save him burned through my body like wildfire. I wanted nothing more than to release him from his pain.
“You brought me back to rule Ys,” my mother purred like a lover while dark blood ran down his body. “And now you won’t let me rule. I believe I can help you rethink the situation. Haven’t you always wanted to know how it felt for your dear old mum when she died?” She jabbed another nail into his chest—near his heart, but not in it. “Shall I strip you naked as well?”
I wanted to tear her vile head off her body. This wasn’t my mother. She was a thing. An abomination that never should have existed.
I just needed her to pull her attention off the magical ropes, long enough for Lyr to get control again. That’s all I needed. One moment of pure distraction from her, to stop her from hurting Lyr.
No air.
I coughed up another lungful of rancid seawater, then forced myself up, staggering, the athame in my hands. The Meriadoc power gave me strength. As it flowed through my muscles, I sucked in a sharp breath.
“Egoriel glasgor lieroral banri mor!” I shouted, finally getting the entire spell out.
Powerful sea magic burst down my arm, exploding from the end of the athame, slamming into her chest. She staggered back, shocked, her skin now ashen, eyes dark.
She was still standing, but she’d pulled her attention off her magic. That was all I needed, just a moment of distraction so Lyr could get control—
She shot forward fast as lightning and struck me in the chest.
The blinding pain spreading through my ribs told me something was wrong.
I thrust the athame into her body, stabbing her between the ribs. “Egoriel glasgor lieroral banri mor!” I rasped.
Sea magic rippled all over my body, pure pleasure with the athame’s hilt in my hands. My mother’s murky eyes flew open.
I read betrayal in them. My heart was breaking. Time slowed down as I stared into her watery eyes, flecked with phosphorescence. She’d once been like a home to me; she’d once stroked my hair while she told me about the apple orchards on the far side of Ys. She’d taught me to be careful, that men were wolves and a woman needed to look after herself. Mama.
Then, before me, her body crumbled into wet ash. With my heart ripping in two, I stared down at her remains, her pearly crown resting on top of the ash.
No, my heart was actually breaking…
When I looked down at my own chest, I saw that she’d thrust her fingernails into my heart—and they remained jutting from my chest, even when the rest of my mother had crumbled.
Time seemed to stretch on. All the breath left my lungs as I stared down at the iron spikes in my heart.
Lyr shouted my name, catching me in his arms. He pulled me to him, but he seemed distant, and I couldn’t hear him anymore. I couldn’t see him.
I wanted to reach for him, but my heart stopped, and my world went dark.
Chapter 39
I floated under the sea, in lifeless and dark water.
I thought maybe I’d always been here.
I’d always be here.
I belonged to the sea of nothing.
In the distance, a star burned, and milky rays of light threaded through the water. It was beautiful, but it wasn’t supposed to be here. Pale, morning light strained for me. A morning star. A flicker of its power washed over me, then faded again, leaving my chest empty.
I floated in darkness again, and the cold of the water seeped into my skin and bones. So this was what death was like. Maybe it was different for everyone.
Pure sadness, iron-sharp, sliced into my chest—exquisite despair cut me in two. This was my death. And in my death, the cold, dead sea didn’t feel like home. I needed to breathe. The god of the depths wanted me to suffer. He was claiming a part of my soul.
Briny seawater began to seep into my mouth, dripping down my throat.
I’d always been here. I always would be. Pierced with iron, drowning in the sea hell. This was my eternity.
I could feel the god of the depths pulling my soul from my body—