Page 98

A guard raises his heel to Ryon’s back and swiftly kicks him. And as Ryon’s body falls into the pool’s embrace, the hall erupts in the joyous howls of the court.

He is swallowed immediately, the pool’s magic taking him under and folding over him – like an animal taking prey into its jaws.

Dawsyn shrieks his name until a guard clobbers her over the head, and then she begins to pull against the Glacian’s hold, jerking and twisting away from their grip. She can only see the blankness of Ryon’s eyes as he went under, the deadened stare, and she knows he will be lost. A ghost. She has to find him.

She has to find him.

“THROW ME IN!” she screams. “THROW ME IN!”

And the King rolls his eyes, bored by the human’s dramatics, and says, “Toss her into the pool then, if it will shut her mouth.”

The cold hands that hold her loosen, and in the same second, her feet thump across the stone, propelling her into the air. As the pool takes notice of new quarry, it curves to cradle her, whispering into her ear as she sinks into its silky folds.

CHAPTERFORTY-SIX

It is thicker than water, this magic. Less cloying than oil. It does not drag at her the way either would, weighing down her clothes. It merely envelops her, caressing her body, as though curious. She can feel the way it tests her, every pore of her, finding a way in.

She resists.

She hears its song filling her, imploring her to sleep.

Seal your eyes, it says.

And she listens. Her lids close against the metallic glisten in blissful surrender.

Sleep, the voice croons. The voice of her grandmother, the voice of Briar.Rest now.

She is weightless, thoughtless. Her body relents gladly to the dip and flow of the magic, carrying her away.

Still your lips, it tells her.

Of course, she will not open them and be drowned. It is far nicer, kinder, to be embraced, to be taken from this world, wrapped in this sweet oblivion.

Lie where sorrow dares not be.

No, there is no sorrow here. Only peace. Comfort.

Free from hands of death.

Death. She has eluded death for so long, perhaps longer than she ought to have. Now? Now, it seems as simple as sleeping, as blinking, as breathing.

She seals her lips and lets the song lure her into the gentle arms of the afterlife, going willingly.

Free from hands of death.

Safety. She has never known it. Does not trust it. Where is she? Where is she going?

Lie where sorrow dares not be.

Lie where? She moves her fingers to her lips, feels the magic gripping on to her skin. Her mouth feels sewn shut.

Seal your eyes. Still your lips.

No.

Her eyes open at once. The shine of the magic stings, but she forces them to stay wide. A heaviness pulls at her, and the song in her ear grows louder, the voice colder.

Where is Ryon?