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Whatever magic that had been trying to keep her out of the prison clearly did not care if she left, because Clara passed easily

through the winding corridor and back into the dark expanse of the valley.

She was free, she supposed. There was no vengeful queen searching for her, no Maurits to try to persuade her to stay, and

so long as she was quick, no Thade to bring her back as a prisoner. The whale was somewhere deep and far off in the water,

and Neese was likewise gone, probably unwilling to risk herself any further for a foolish human. Clara could go back to land,

resume her life as an apprentice in a city that afforded her anonymity and possibilities.

Memories of Alida’s studio sparked a hint of warmth in her as she pulled herself slowly along the jagged valley walls. There

would be hot pottage and spiced wine. Her cabinet bed in the kitchen would be piled with blankets, warmed by a fire crackling

in the hearth. She was so hungry that just the thought of a piece of bread made her mouth water. All the unbelievable events

of the past year would eventually fade away, so long as King Thade did not actually plan on exacting revenge. But even if

he did, there was no telling how bad the flood would be. Maybe it would just be a loss of some of the land near the docks.

The seaweed at her ankles was eerily still as she slowly made her away up and out of the valley.

She tried not to think of Neese’s admiration for her decision to stay, or how anxious Maurits would be when he inevitably learned that she had been in the Water Kingdom briefly, only to return to land.

He would be hurt, terribly hurt. But perhaps he would be relieved as well; after all he had brought her to the surface before, in hopes that she would be safe.

If he truly loved her as he had professed, then knowing she was on land was the greatest gift she could give him.

The thought did little to quell the guilt that she felt.

She might be safe, but she was abandoning him, leaving him to face the consequences of her actions with Thade and his mother.

The seaweed gradually cleared as she left the valley behind, and she found herself in a sandy patch on level ground. The faintest

rays of light shafted down, tiny particles and fish briefly illuminated in their paths. But despite the peacefulness, she

was keenly aware that she was not alone, that she was being watched from the secret places under rocks and between crevices.

The sensation only grew stronger as she fought to walk through the water. Something cold and slick touched the back of her

neck. She spun around, only to be met with emptiness.

It was past time she left. There was nothing for her down here. She had thought that an audience with the queen would throw

everything into clarity, that she would find answers and know exactly what had to be done. But it had only shown her just

how little she understood, and that while her intentions might have been pure, she was unfit for bringing about any sort of

understanding between the two worlds. She would not offer herself up like a sacrificial lamb when she did not even know if

it would change anything in a meaningful way.

Clara put out her arms as Neese had shown her, slowly propelling herself upward.

Ascending had seemed so effortless when Maurits had done it, but now it felt as if she were clawing her way through something thick and impenetrable.

As she kicked her legs, the marble at her neck grew heavier and heavier, pulling her back down.

With a gasp she realized too late that she would die before Thade’s magic would allow her to leave.

The cold water slid through her fingers, and then there was a sudden tightness around her arms.

She flailed against the growing pressure until she was yanked back down. Suddenly, all was still. The marble at her throat

was once again no heavier than a bird’s egg, and her lungs filled with air.

As her heartbeat began to steady, she felt the boring gaze of something on her. Whatever it was could not be worse than what

she had just endured, so she slowly turned.

Immediately, she wished she had not. The creatures flanked her, their limbless bodies undulating in place. In front of her,

another slithered about, watching her from black eyes. She spun around again, panic rising in her chest, only to find that

she was surrounded.

“Rather foolish to venture into the deep with only a charm for air,” said a slippery, disembodied voice.

“It’s true then,” said another. “They really cannot swim. How curious.”

Five pairs of unblinking black eyes stared back at her, beady and intense. The toothy mouths of the creatures did not move,

but she could hear their voices as clearly as if they had spoken aloud. Basilisks. Helma had told her a story once of a basilisk

that had terrorized the citizens of Utrecht. But these creatures were smaller than she had imagined them, more like a school

of eels than great serpents.

“We are more powerful than they give us credit for,” said one. “They think magic is the domain of their kind.”

“But we wield power.”

“Great power.”

They looked like what she imagined dragons would, their form reminiscent of the lithe and swirling beasts that adorned the porcelain her father traded from the Orient.

“She has no need of us,” one said. “She was going up, up, up.”

“Slowly,” said another.

“Too slowly. She could have been snatched.”

“Or eaten.”

A forked tongue flicked out as if hungry. She took a stumbling step back.

“Come, come. We are your friends. Friends of friends are friends.”

Her head spun as she tried to follow their words, which seemed to half occur between themselves, and half spoken directly

into her mind.

“We will take you to him. To your prince.”

“We can see what many cannot. In the dark we have honed our vision, our intuition. We see that he is lovesick.”

“And so long as he is lovesick, he is useless.”

“We need our prince.”

“Need him on the throne.”

“Come, come.”

They watched, their black eyes tracking her, but made no move to touch her. The panic gradually subsided as she realized that

if they had some dark design on her, they surely would have carried it out by now. Something told her that whatever their

motives, their words were true. They would take her to Maurits.

Whether she wanted to see Maurits was another matter.

Some of his falsehoods, the things he had told her.

.. she did not think she could ever truly forgive him, but she understood better now.

He came from a deeply scarred world, a world that had been plundered and subjugated.

He carried an enormous responsibility on his shoulders, and perhaps he had just wanted to forget all of it for a little while.

Perhaps she had been a pleasant diversion.

And while the thought did not exactly comfort her or absolve her of her anger, it did allow her desperate heart some reprieve to feel what she had so long been smothering. She missed him.

The basilisks were still watching her, and she had the unnerving feeling that they knew every thought that was running through

her mind. Could they see that she was even now beginning to wonder if Maurits had been truthful in one respect at least? Could

they feel that her traitorous heart beat faster at the realization that she wanted to know if his love was as true as he claimed?

Try as she might, those drowsy mornings spent by the canal had etched themselves into her heart and her memory. His cold lips

pressed to her were phantom sensations that prickled her skin into gooseflesh, and lit a fire deep within her belly.

“You need your prince too, we think,” one of them said with a sly flick of its tongue.

“We could also give you that which Thade took,” another offered.

“He is powerful, but not so powerful as us.”

“We are old.”

“And with age comes wisdom.”

“And with wisdom, power.”

“All we ask in return is a small pledge.”

“A debt to be called in in the future.”

They watched her carefully, their lazy tails flicking in the current. Helma’s stories, and Tryn and Jan’s warnings about never

entering into a bargain with an Old One were ringing through her head. She pushed them aside. Raising her hand, she touched

it to the throat that could speak no words, her question in her eyes.

“Yes, we can give you back your voice.”

Before she could think better of it, she nodded. She would need her voice for what she was about to do.