The Wicked King (The Folk of the Air #2) - Holly Black Page 0,76
because of Nicasia, that Orlagh truly wanted Cardan to be the bridegroom of the sea. It didn’t occur to me that Orlagh would act before hearing an answer. And I didn’t think that when she threatened to take blood, she meant Balekin.
Balekin. It would be difficult to get the crown of Faerie on his head without Oak putting it there. But should Cardan ever abdicate, that would mean a period of instability, another coronation, another chance for Balekin to rule.
I think of Oak, who is not ready for any of this. I think of Cardan, who must be persuaded to pledge himself to me again, especially now.
I am still swearing when I hear a wave strike the rocks, hard enough to reverberate through the Tower. The Ghost shouts my name again, from closer by than I expect.
I turn as he steps into view on the other side of the room. Beside him are three of the sea Folk, watching me with pale eyes. It takes me a moment to put the image together, to realize the Ghost is not restrained nor even menaced. To realize this is a betrayal.
My face goes hot. I want to feel angry, but instead I feel a roaring in my head that overwhelms everything else.
The sea crashes against the shore again, slamming into the side of the Tower. I am glad Nightfell is already in my hand.
“Why?” I ask, hearing Nicasia’s words pounding in my ears like the surf: someone you trust has already betrayed you.
“I served Prince Dain,” the Ghost says. “Not you.”
I begin to speak when there is a rustle behind me. Then pain in the back of my skull and nothing more.
I wake at the bottom of the sea.
At first, I panic. I have water in my lungs and a terrible pressure on my chest. I open my mouth to scream, and a sound comes out, but not the one I expect. It startles me enough to stop and realize that I am not drowning.
I am alive. I am breathing water, heavily, laboriously, but I am breathing it.
Beneath me is a bed shaped from reef coral and padded with kelp, long tendrils of which flutter with the current. I am inside a building, which seems also of coral. Fish dart through the windows.
Nicasia floats at the end of my bed, her feet replaced by a long tail. It feels like seeing her for the first time to see her in the water, to see her blue-green hair whorl around her and her pale eyes shine metallic under the waves. She was beautiful on land, but here she looks elemental, terrifying in her beauty.
“This is for Cardan,” she says, just before she balls up her fist and hits me in the stomach.
I wouldn’t have thought it possible to get the momentum needed to strike someone under water, but this is her world, and she connects just fine.
“Ouch,” I say. I try to touch where she hit me, but my wrists are restrained in heavy cuffs and won’t move that far. I turn my head, seeing iron balls anchoring me to the floor. A fresh panic grips me, bringing with it a sense of unreality.
“I don’t know what trick you performed on him, but I will discover it,” she says, unnerving me with how close her guess comes to the mark. Still, it means she doesn’t know anything.
I force myself to concentrate on that, on the here and now, on discovering what I can do and making a plan. But it’s hard when I am so very angry—angry at the Ghost for betraying me, angry at Nicasia and at myself, myself, always myself, more than anyone else. Furious at myself for winding up in this position. “What happened to the Ghost?” I spit out. “Where is he?”
Nicasia gives me a narrow-eyed look. “What?”
“He helped you kidnap me. Did you pay him?” I ask, trying to sound calm. What I most want to know is what I cannot ask—does she know the Ghost’s plans for the Court of Shadows? But to find out and stop him, I must escape.
Nicasia puts her hand against my cheek, smooths back my hair. “Worry about yourself.”
Maybe she wants me only her for reasons of personal jealousy. Maybe I can still get out of this.
“You think I performed a trick because Cardan likes me better than you,” I say. “But you shot at him with a crossbow bolt. Of course he likes me better.”