you,” Vataea says with a laugh so vicious I draw a step back, sinking against the sand. All this time I’ve been grateful to have her on my side. Now though, I’m not so sure that she is. “Now, you’ll spend an eternity within the sea as our pet, and she will never remember you. No matter how hard you try, no matter how much you might beg, she will not care for you or your pleas. You will spend your days in the ocean, mourning the one who is right in front of you. And when you wish to die, I will make sure that you live. You are my trophy, now. And it’s time I show you off.”
Corina wraps her fingers around Blarthe’s throat as she presses her lips to his. But rather than wake him from a trance, she turns Blarthe’s skin blue as ice, and amid the first of his screams, Corina drags him into the water.
They never resurface.
Vataea stands before me, and I scramble from my knees up to her. “I’m sorry,” I say. “And not because you’re terrifying, but because I mean it.”
At that, the smallest smile cracks her lips, but I don’t stop.
“Vataea, I never wanted to hurt you, I swear it. I was going to tell you the truth when we got to Arida, and Blarthe was always going to be held responsible for his crimes. But … gods, I’m sorry. He hurt you worse than anyone, and I’m so sorry.”
She sets a hand on my shoulders, and I try not to flinch at the long claws, sharp as knives.
“I understand that you were trying to do what you thought was best.” The magic in her voice has yet to wear off. The sweetness of it makes my head ache. “But you’ve opened wounds within me, Amora, and I cannot tell you when they might begin to heal.”
“But we can try?” I set my hand over hers, determined. “Can we try to heal them?”
Ever so slowly, she nods. But there’s no time to sink into the relief that comes; down the shore, Shanty screams.
“We need help!”
There’s coughing. Wet, ragged coughing, and my body goes cold at the sight of a sea-soaked Ferrick wheezing on the sand. Shanty’s got her hands pressed hard against his chest, but blood seeps through her fingers with no sign of slowing.
Blarthe’s attack was deeper than I thought. As much as he’s trying to heal, Ferrick can’t seem to slow the bleeding.
I rush to his side, helping Shanty put force on the wound. Isaac is just managing to stand. He’s shaky on his feet, clutching a hand to his bleeding side. But the blood is minimal; thankfully it’s not a fatal wound.
“Go get the healers!” I yell to him. “Now!”
Ferrick’s blood is hot and fresh, flowing too quickly from his body. I push harder, but Ferrick sets a trembling hand atop mine. Tears blur my eyes when he smiles.
“Thank you for letting me be part of your adventure.” His fingers wind around mine, squeezing weakly. “I couldn’t have asked for a better crew.”
Bastian’s beside me now, and Vataea, too. She stares at his blood, chanting as though fighting to control it. Unlike the sea, it doesn’t obey. But she doesn’t stop, forehead creasing into deep lines of concentration as she tries and tries again.
“Shut up, Ferrick.” I pull my hand from his, forcing pressure on the wound. “You and I have plenty more adventures. You just have to hang on a little longer; the healers are coming.” His blood’s hot against my hands as I press into the wound with everything I have, thinking of Father and the night I let him die right there beside me. “Please, you have to hold on. I can’t lose someone else. I can’t lose you.”
He tries not to show the pain, but I see it in the stalling of his words and the way he grinds his teeth, fighting it back. The scale shimmers in his left hand, held tight in his white-knuckled grip. All I have to do is pry it from him and I can fix everything. We’ll redo the fight. I’ll keep my dagger from Blarthe. I’ll—
“Amora.” He draws my hand again, pulling it gently from his wound. “Stop scheming and let me say goodbye.”
I don’t want to. With everything in me, I want to refuse. But I’m not the only one crying. Bastian’s holding Ferrick’s shoulders firm, chest trembling as he lowers his forehead to Ferrick’s. I