Page 51 of A Sea of Vows and Silence (The Naiads of Juile #3)

Cebrinne

S hadows ran across the walls, hiding in the corners of the ceiling.

Wind knocked at the glass like nails scratching in the dark.

Rain pelted the tower in hard waves. The vision of my sister, bleeding and unconscious on Thaan’s table, wouldn’t leave my mind.

It repeated over and over like the spoke of a spinning wheel, each thought like a string turning from its loom. Around and around and around.

When the door slammed, I latched to the sound. Selena was already halfway across the room, tracks carving down her cheeks. She closed our bedroom door just as hard.

Thaan sat across from me.

I met his gaze, my throat numb from hours of swallowing that burn that had gathered at the back of my mouth. Is she all right? I asked him.

Go to my administrative wing, he replied.

My legs straightened. I turned toward the hall. Is she all right? I demanded as my body carried me out.

He didn’t answer.

The offices were still dark when I arrived. Empty. I stood just inside the main door, watching the sun rise through the windows, chasing shadows as it climbed.

Secretaries began to arrive. Dressed in their black uniform dresses, the humans sent me odd looks as they found their desks.

The Naiads ignored me. They must have recognized the hollow look in my eyes, the way my body stood too rigid, too still.

Self-preservation had taught them to pretend not to see such things.

Is she there yet? Thaan’s voice asked. Quietly. Distantly.

Who? I answered.

But it became clear as she stepped through the door.

Relax your shoulders. Walk to her desk.

Vouri watched as I approached. I leaned in, trying to warn her with my eyes. Go. Leave. Run.

Keep your voice low, Thaan ordered. Repeat after me. The plan has changed.

“The plan has changed.”

Thaan’s away. Meet me in my apartment. Take the servants’ passage.

“Thaan’s away. Meet me in my apartment. Take the servants’ passage.”

She gave a slow nod. My stomach flipped, the pit of it roiling with sick.

Return to your rooms, Cebrinne.

I’d reach them before her if she was taking the servants’ passage. My feet led me away. Out the corridor and over the sky bridge to the west.

Coward, I shot at him.

Am I? Thaan scoffed. Who posed as a lone Naiad? Who hid in my office, gathering evidence to attack me? Who entered my house under false pretenses?

You did the same, sending me to Aegir.

A cold chuckle. That is war, Cebrinne. The losing side will always accuse the winning side of cowardice to conceal that they are simply less cunning. That they let themselves be fooled. You lost. And you’re too weak to confess it. Open the door.

I stepped into the cold of my apartment. Vouri is young. She wasn’t part of your fight with Aegir’s grandfather.

She’s one of them. And cordaed . If Aegir never sires an heir, she will someday give birth to one .

I closed the door. Had I not been under Thaan’s control, I might have jumped in surprise. A face stared back at me from inside. A tall frame, a twisted scar, a pair of hungry eyes.

A knife waited in Deimos’s hand, almost as long as his forearm. He waited for me to step inside, ear poised for the sound of steps behind me.

For the next Naiad to walk through the door.

Don’t, I said. All my complicated feelings for Aegir fell away. Suddenly, all I could imagine was the look in his eyes as I told him his sister was dead.

That I’d led her to her death.

Not just the look in Aegir’s eyes. Selena’s, too. We’d had a hand in Thaan’s war for the past ten years. We’d torn apart homes and families with every drop of ink written in the missives and maps we delivered to him, all while promising ourselves we’d had no choice.

This was different, wasn’t it?

Did I have a choice?

Thaan.

He didn’t respond with words. But I felt him return. Felt that solid fog in my thoughts, muddying and constricting.

Let Vouri go home, I said.

I’m not sure she’ll have a home to go to.

He waited for the pieces to fall into place.

For me to realize that wherever Thaan was, he wasn’t at the palace.

For me to drop into strained silence, listening for the presence of my sister’s heartbeat.

For her lungs, for any scent or sound of life coming from our bedroom, our apartment, the entire fucking floor of the tower I stood in.

It was only me and Deimos.

Where’s Selena? I snarled.

He left my mind. Stepped out like a shadow carrying away the night, weightless but cruel.

THAAN.

Yes .

Where’s my sister?

She’s with me.

Where?

Where do you think?

Standing still under his hold was agony. My body suddenly needed to pace. To shake and rage. To shove and kick and bite. I stood like a statue in the center of the room, my body at the mercy of Thaan’s whim.

Inside, I was a restless wind, caught in the jaws of stone and ire.

Why would you take Selena to Venusia? What are you doing?

I felt him leave again. I wondered what was happening—was it happening now?

Thaan wouldn’t hurt Selena.

He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.

He needed us. Didn’t he?

I don’t, really.

I hadn’t realized I’d thought the question across to him until he answered.

You’re bluffing, I raged at him. You need us. We’re your Prizivac Vodes . I’m your best water-caller. Selena’s your best incanter . You need us just like you need Pheolix.

I don’t need you. And I killed Pheolix this morning.

The need to pace froze inside me. Ice trickled through my veins. Liar.

But Thaan rarely lied.

Ask Deimos.

The Naiad was still watching me. He hadn’t looked away.

“Did Thaan kill Pheolix?” I asked, my voice tight.

“Yes.”

I’d never heard him speak before. His voice didn’t even croak with disuse as I might have imagined it would. It was soft. Apologetic, even. Pitying.

“I don’t believe you,” I ground out. “I know Thaan is in your head just like he’s in mine. Swear it in blood.” Thaan could force Deimos to speak. He could force him to draw blood. But he couldn’t force him to swear on it. Theia protected us from a forced vow.

The silent siren lifted his hand, sliding his blade across the flesh of his palm. Scarlet drained, dropping to the floor, splattering quietly below him.

“I swear on my blood. Thaan killed Pheolix this morning.” He looked as though he wanted to say more as the small strike of light gleamed through his cut, but he didn’t. I took a step back.

Thaan had been angry last night. Had he been angry enough to kill Pheolix? He’d saved Selena on that table. Had he saved her only to use her as a lure for Aegir?

Was that the entire purpose behind taking us?

Steps echoed faintly from the servants’ passage a floor above. All the air in my apartment collapsed, and I stood gasping for breath. What was he planning with us? What was he planning in Venusia?

Is my sister safe?

Stay right where you are.

Deimos tucked himself tightly behind the door, knife firm in his grip.

Thaan! I snarled. Is she safe?

Step, step, step, step, step. Down the tower stairs.

Thaan!

Deimos turned his head toward the sound, listening. Waiting.

What do you want? I’ll give you whatever it is—what do you want? Thaan!

I couldn’t walk, but my breath rasped in and out. Heat crawled over my skin, the clammy, cold heat that only came from suffocating terror.

THAAN.

A brief pause suspended time. The steps outside the apartment slowed. Deimos’s eyes shifted to me.

I suppose there’s one thing, Thaan drawled.

What?

Your voice .

“My voice?” My hand rose to my throat subconsciously, feeling the soft vibration of the words through my skin.

I’d expected him to ask for something darker. Something more sinister, more callous, more inhuman.

I could live without my voice.

I’d happily live without it, if it meant keeping Selena safe. I’d thank the moon and stars each night that I’d had the chance to give it away.

It took no further thought, no moment of hesitation to decide. I walked across the room, holding out my hand for Deimos’s knife. The Naiad watched as I repeated what he’d just done, slicing a bright line through my hand.

“I swear on my blood,” I said quietly. Across miles and miles, sand and beach and sea, I could feel Thaan in my head, listening. “You have my voice.”

When the flash of light warmed the gash in my hand, it also warmed my throat. Burned my throat. Deeper than the cut I’d just made through the dermal layer of my palm. The blaze almost choked me, roasting through muscle and cord, leaving my eyes to water in the wake of the flames.

The steps drew nearer. Just outside the dancing crane statue beyond my door. They stopped.

Someone knocked.

Eyes on the floor, I stretched my arm. Defeated. And tried to hand Deimos his knife.

But he didn’t take it from me.

Thaan’s voice returned to my thoughts.

Keep it.