my throat. “To think I ever called you a friend.” Her words are a snarl worse than the Lusca’s and more fearsome than even the godwoken. Her other hand is beside my head, claws out and grating into the wood. “You’ve been using me like everyone else, haven’t you? You’re no better than any of them!”
“Let her talk, Vataea!” Ferrick grabs hold of her shoulder, but she whirls so quickly I don’t understand what’s happened until Ferrick reels back, stumbling and clutching a bleeding arm to his chest. Only then does the light snap back on in Vataea’s eyes. Horror-struck, she clutches her hand tight against her chest and draws a step back.
“Everyone told me not to trust humans.” The sea lashes around us, the tides swelling with a ferocity that matches her words. “I thought you were different, but all you humans do is lie. You take what you want, and you lie.”
I clutch my throat, choking on the words I force out of them. “What are you—”
“Blarthe!” she yells, nails digging into her palms as she clutches them into fists. “You have Blarthe, and you didn’t tell me!”
My fingers are numb on my throat. Ferrick drops his red-rimmed eyes to the floor. The stone with Nelly’s memories sits between them, and I know at once that she’s realized everything.
“She knew you were hiding something, so she went looking for clues.” Thoroughly miserable as he slumps against the wall, Ferrick doesn’t bother to even heal his own arm. “We should have told her the truth sooner.”
“V,” I say softly, “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you, I swear. I just … I was afraid to.”
“My name is Vataea.” Each syllable is sharp as ice, ready to impale. She kicks the cursed stone with her boot, and I flinch as it scuffs the wood. “I am not fragile. You asked me why I stayed, why I risk my life for you, and I told you the truth. You had plenty of chances to be honest with me, but you are a coward.” She kicks the stone again, her anger swelling. It’s like she’s barely able to contain it, drawing sharpened breaths and raking her bloodied fingernails through her hair.
“I have to break this curse.” My voice trembles more than I’d like it to. “I needed Blarthe alive until I found what I was looking for.”
“And will you break your curse?” I’ve never heard a voice so cold as hers. “Ferrick and I saw what that man in the memories did. He altered time to raise the dead, Amora. Tell me you don’t intend to do the same. Tell me that you’re not planning to waste every moment of our lives these past two seasons. I didn’t come this far to go back to where I was, and neither did this kingdom.”
My hesitation lasts for a beat too long. Her scowl sinks deep into her face, as though vying to become a permanent fixture.
“I—no. I’m not sure, yet.” My words aren’t coming out like I want them to.
“You are a disappointment, Your Majesty,” Vataea spits with pure venom. “I would have helped you regardless. I would have helped more than you will ever know, had you been honest.”
I follow after her when she turns to take the stairs two at a time, climbing up to the deck and wasting no time peeling out of her cloak, then her pants, tossing them to the floor as she grabs hold of the rigging and hauls herself onto the railing.
“My people were right to never concern themselves with you humans.” She casts me a glance from over her shoulder. “I will not be anyone’s subject. I hope you find yourself again, but right now you’re lost, and I’ve been used enough for one lifetime.”
In that moment, Vataea is more human than I’ve ever seen her. There’s sorrow in the way her brows knit together before she slowly turns to the sea. And then she jumps.
The moment her body hits the water, my knees threaten to give out from beneath me. I buckle, breath caught in my throat, choking me.
In the distance, I watch as a rose gold fin lifts from the sea and smacks down upon it with a final goodbye before disappearing.
Just like that, Vataea’s gone.
I try not to look at Ferrick, but my body betrays me. His shoulders sag, body wilting into itself, and I force myself to turn away as grief crumples him.
“I’m sorry.” His words are barely a whisper for