Before we ever met.
He held out his open palm, and a small ring glowed in it. The ring expanded, till it was large enough to fit around a person’s neck. The binding collar.
“Once this is on you,” he said, “you won’t even see it. Or feel it.”
At that moment, I felt the ghost of my sea magic start to whisper up my spine, making me shiver. My stolen magic was calling to me like a lost child.
Instinct compelled me to step away from Lyr. He took another step closer, and I found that phantom yearning for my magic intensifying. It was a sharp ache between my ribs. “No. And your plan doesn’t even make sense.”
Gold light beamed around Lyr’s body, tingling across my skin.
I could almost imagine them, the claws of ice that would sprout from my fingertips… “I’m not the threat, Lyr. It’s the Fomorians. The fire fae. They will make the seas boil. They will destroy all life on earth by heating the air. I can stop them. I’m the one who can stop them.” The words tumbled out of my mouth, and I realized how nuts I sounded.
Lyr cocked his head, eyes gleaming. He didn’t believe a word I was saying.
Suddenly, I wanted to get out of here. I wanted to run and never look back.
I focused on the feel of my feet on the stone ground, trying to root myself to the earth.
I have survived. I will keep surviving.
I’d been through worse, hadn’t I? I’d lived a hundred and fifty years looking after myself.
I glanced at the collar in his hand again, my thoughts whirling so fast that I could hardly think straight. “I can do this, Lyr. I can find a way to manipulate Salem. He wants me to find something for him, and I’ll lead him to the Merrow. Understand this: I’ve wanted to kill him for a hundred years, long before I even knew his name. He ruined my life.” I thought of what Melisande had said: dead inside. “Over a century, I’ve wanted to kill him. This is my chance to get my power back, and to get my revenge. And save the world. Like Beira said. This is my destiny, and I’ve never felt something so strongly before in my life.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, another raven swooped in with a piece of paper in its beak. I held out my shaking hand, and the raven dropped the paper. It fluttered into my palm.
Leave now, or face my wrath, Aenor. I’m not a patient man.
Lyr pulled it out of my hand. “He will feel my wrath when I rip his driver’s head from his body.”
“I don’t think that will achieve much of anything. I doubt the devil cares for his driver.”
I was about to head back to my room for my things when Salem’s wrath arrived.
It started with a sound like a drumbeat in my mind. A deep, slow rhythm pounding through my blood, a beat echoing off rocky cave walls.
A dark heartbeat, and a voice from the oldest parts of my brain—the command of a primal god.
Pick up the wine bottle. Smash it.
My own thoughts rebelled. This wasn’t like Melisande’s enchantment. I was still here, still trying to resist. And yet I found myself pulling away from Lyr and spinning around to snatch the wine bottle from the middle of the table. I brought it down hard on the wood tabletop, shattering the end to leave jagged edges of glass.
Panic filled my lungs.
Press the broken shards to your wrist.
Even as my own mind screamed, I felt myself pressing the shattered end to my wrist—
Lyr caught my arms, pulling them apart. He squeezed my wrist hard enough that the broken bottle dropped to the floor, shattering completely, then he pulled me close against him, dragging me away from the table, away from the wine bottle. For the first time in days, I was in a tight embrace.
But I didn’t feel any warmth from it. All I felt was Salem watching me, waiting to see if I’d follow his orders. Seemed he didn’t even have to be here to control me.
“You’re not ready to go yet,” Lyr snapped.
“I clearly don’t have a choice.” And I wanted to go, too. It was like the past hundred and forty years had suddenly crystalized into a single purpose: kill my nemesis.
I tried pulling away from the tight embrace, but Lyr suddenly didn’t seem to want to let me go. He held tight to my arm, then lifted the collar before my face. It gleamed pale blue.
“Let go of me,” I snarled.
“And let you be Salem’s plaything?”
I bristled at the term plaything.
“It’s for your own protection,” he went on. “I know you’d never forgive yourself if Salem made you kill millions of people.”
Oh, he was good.
I actually considered it for a moment. Then I glanced down at the collar, repulsed by its metallic sheen. “It doesn’t add up. The prophecy is fire. Not ice or water.”
Was it Salem that Lyr feared so much—or me? Why did I feel like this was punishment for the loss of his soul?
Lyr rolled the collar in his hands, the movements hypnotic. The rest of his body stayed completely still. A chill rippled over my skin, adrenaline pulsing. Instinct told me to hold on to my power as much as I could, that I’d need it. That it was the best way to fight the real threat of the Fomorians.
His eyes blazing with gold, Lyr reached for me with the collar—
My stomach swooped. That was when I yanked my arm from his grip and ran at full speed. I ran for the window, arms flailing.
I felt the water calling for me, asking for me to keep it safe.
And I leapt for the sea.
7
Aenor
When I hit the water, something felt wrong in the sea. I couldn’t quite make out what it was, though. With a pang of regret, I realized I hadn’t had enough time to grab my comb—my own tool of enchantment.
Still, I didn’t have time to mull over any of that now. Lyr and every knight in the fortress would be after me within moments, wielding that damn collar.
I kicked my legs, propelling myself through the cold water with the stunning speed of a morgen. The knights would be after me, but I had an advantage in the water.
After swimming a few minutes, I could hear them following behind me, the vibrations of their magic pulsing through the waves. My stomach clenched. How quickly I’d become their enemy.
Lyr had lost his damn mind, but at least I could run from him. His World Key wasn’t much use if he didn’t know where to find me.
Salem, on the other hand, was someone I couldn’t run from. Not yet.
I swam faster, blood pounding as I rushed through the water. I didn’t stray far from the shoreline, hugging it as I swam south along the coast.
Slowly, it started to dawn on me what was wrong with the sea around me.
It was ever so slightly too hot. Just a degree or two. I wasn’t sure how I could tell, but it just felt warmer than it should be. Had that single Fomorian been able to change it so fast?
As I swam, I heard the drumbeat in my mind again. Salem, watching me, wherever I went. With that sinister rhythm pounding over my skin, I felt an overwhelming desire to turn and head for the shore.
As the drum pounded through my blood, I called to mind the image of a clear bubble. Except Salem’s magic seemed to be about sound, and the image in my mind did nothing to keep it out. Inside my mind, I imagined a song, trying to drown out the drumbeat for just a moment—