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V ahly thrashed against Astraea’s hold, the Sea Queen’s water magic crushing her chest and filling her ears with the roaring sound of so much power. Vahly’s bones felt weak and brittle, like at any second they would snap and jab through her flesh, white daggers thrust from inside.

“Stop!” A booming voice crossed the currents. Ryton stood, spear raised, at the closed door to the cell, his eyebrows drawn together and the muscles in his arms and legs seemingly coiled, ready to spring.

What was he doing? Could this be good? A bit of dissension in the ranks?

Turning to face Ryton, Astraea kept the water rushing at Vahly to hold her in place. “Polyagapiménos. Xéro óti den dósate móno sti vasílissa sas parangelía,” Astraea said in the sea folk tongue, her grin sharp and her tone syrupy.

Vahly’s stomach burned with the damage the coinfish had done. The fish swam around her head and blocked her view of Ryton for a moment before swimming into the dark water above the rock shelf. Its smaller cohort joined it, and they squirmed and knotted like shimmering snakes.

Ryton’s only answer was a spell. “Katastréfo!” Magic crackled from the tip of his spear.

The coral branches of the cell’s opening exploded in a cloud of debris.

But the blast didn’t alter Astraea’s position at all.

Her lips moved as Ryton charged inside, his gaze going to the coinfish.

He reached into a pocket at his belt as a current streamed from Astraea toward him.

Shouting and dropping his spear, he fell to his knees against the remains of the door.

Astraea advanced on him, still whispering spells.

The water around Ryton glittered like sapphires, a shape like a net closing in, tighter and tighter.

And then the pressure on Vahly’s body relented. Astraea was distracted by her lover’s betrayal. Now was the moment to act.

Vahly knew she couldn’t outswim Astraea or her army. The coin Astraea had been threatening Vahly with lay on the mosaic floor, but it was out of reach, bound as she was by one wrist.

Summoning that roaring magic newly sewn into her being and poured into her blood, Vahly mimicked Ryton’s spell, focusing on the rubbery plant that held her tight.

“Katastréfo,” she whispered.

Her binding snapped and she lunged for the coin. Ryton was groaning. Blood pooled at every point where the net touched his skin. He was going to die—and die badly.

Vahly swam up behind Astraea, who was so focused on disciplining her general that she took no notice. Vahly gripped the hair tangled in Astraea’s crown, yanked the Sea Queen’s head back, and jammed the coin between her lips.

Astraea spit the coin into the water and shrieked a spell, her bloodshot eyes as wide as a dragon’s.

Vahly swam for the opening, heart and stomach rolling and falling and failing.

Black spots danced in front of her eyes as pain cut her deeply.

Outside the cell, the ground dropped away.

She was hundreds of feet above the sea’s floor.

She’d never been near bedrock. Astraea had guessed what Vahly’s earth magic might have been able to accomplish.

A tumbling rush of water hit Vahly like the wind of a violent storm, and she spun backward.

Ryton and Astraea shouted in their language, thunder rocking the sea around them.

Vahly’s head banged against the tower cell.

The world flickered to tones of gray. She blinked, hurting everywhere, and tried to rotate in the water, to get a handle on what to do and what resources there might be at her disposal before the distraction of Ryton’s fight was gone and she’d missed the opportunity to escape.

The sea stretched, empty and deep, far, far into the distance.

Vahly braced bleeding hands on the tower wall as Ryton shrieked in pain again.

Beyond the tower, there was a palace made of the same scarlet coral as the cell door had been.

Probably Astraea’s own home. Not a fine place to escape.

But there were outbuildings nearby. Where could Vahly go?

Maybe there. But she might flee right into a unit of more guards.

She needed a place to hide and plan. She closed her eyes.

There was no time. And how long would she even live with this kind of internal damage?

But there was no other idea in her head.

Wishing she could help Ryton now that he’d proven he wasn’t who she’d thought him to be, she swam away from the tower.

Guards called out behind her.

Vahly sucked the water through her gills and envisioned the water magic rushing around her, helping her onward. Roaring currents filled her ears as she sped toward a row of outbuildings beyond the palace’s outer wall.

She shot through what looked like a stable, its walls carved out of the same rock as the shelf in the cell.

It was empty, and as she rushed through one door and out another, her speed stirred up sand and squares of harvested seaweed that had been stacked into a corner.

The stable led to a covered courtyard. Twelve doors like the one she’d just been through stood around the pebbled ground.

A ceiling of pearly shell boasted an array of glowing lights like green and white torches. But they looked like turtles or…

She had no time to study them. Picking a door to the right, she tucked herself into a corner and stacked the cut seaweed blocks around her.

A sound made her jump, her poor body trembling.

Eyes the color of sunset, like Amona’s, blinked in the darkness, luminous.

A head emerged, horse-like, but where a mane would have been, fins lined the creature’s neck.

The body dipped low and curled, ending in a tail.

The thing had no limbs at all, but it did have a mouth, and Vahly worried it might be like many other sea beasts. Hungry.

She shuffled back, pressing into the corner so as not to appear threatening and keeping an eye on the door for the approaching guards. Their voices echoed in the rippling water.

Vahly took a handful of the seaweed and held it out. “I would leave you to your room, but I’m afraid I can’t pop out just now. I’m either dying or about to be killed. Either way, moving isn’t in my plans. Sorry.”

The beast swam forward. Wide fins on each of its sides moved like dragon wings. Extending its neck, it took the seaweed from her with a careful mouth. Its teeth were not scary, thank the Blackwater. They were flat and simple. A plant eater, then.

“Good. I’ve been nibbled on enough for one day.” Vahly gave the thing another serving. She moved slowly, deliberately, to keep quiet.

The guards’ voices came closer. Vahly froze, longing for Kyril like she’d left a limb on land.

If he were here, she would ride him to safety. He could protect her when she was down. Stones, he had to be so frightened in her absence, wondering what was happening to her. Their bond buzzed inside her blood, insistent as the magic’s pull to the Lost Valley.

She was being torn apart by the desperation to go to Kyril and the absolute need to swear some oath or speak a spell of sorts with him at the place of her birth.

She fisted her shaking hands as the seahorse—for that was what it resembled; a horse of the ocean—bumped Vahly gently, requesting another snack.

A thunderous boom sounded distantly, and sparkling sand shifted from the ceiling of the stable and fell over Vahly’s hiding place. Shouts rose, the guards’ voices falling away.

“What was that?” Vahly asked the seahorse, lamely wishing it could do more than ask for food.

Edging out of her corner, Vahly gripped the side of the doorway and peered into the covered courtyard. No guards swarmed the area. No one was there at all. She stood on wobbling legs.

Pain rose, clawing and sharp, and she collapsed on the sandy rock. But she couldn’t sit here and die. She braced herself with a palm to the cold and gritty ground. Now was the time to swim away. Something had distracted the guards. This was her chance. Her only chance.

Trying to stand again, she coughed. Blood trickled from her lips and clouded the water around her face. She sagged against the doorframe and eyed the seahorse.

“There is a sad part of me that wishes you could swallow me up like you do that seaweed. I wouldn’t mind all of this simply being over.”

But she didn’t truly mean that. Her soul glowed inside her, and now more than ever, she knew only she could save Nix, Amona, Arc, and Kyril. As impossible as it seemed, she was their sole chance at survival.

A blur of movement across the courtyard caught her eye, and she slid back into the darkness.

Then a face appeared in the doorway, and she shouted in shocked happiness.

“Arc!”

How was he here? She just couldn’t absorb it. He looked like a sacred spirit, his skin luminescent, his eyes dark and powerful, his shirtless body filling the doorway, his grin sweet and sure.

He gathered her into his arms, then sat with her cradled on his lap, the doorframe against his back.

He felt warm and light and perfect. The bare skin of his chest, covering powerful muscles, sent heat into her body, and she wished she could soak it all in and somehow end up in a patch of sun on the land, away from all of this.

With a thumb, he wiped the blood from her mouth. His touch was a balm. His eyebrows knitted over his flashing eyes, and his upper lip twitched.

Who did this to you? His fingers hovered over her gills, then brushed her stomach, his elven senses most likely guiding him to her worst injuries. That male sea kynd?

“How did you make it this far?” Had she actually died? Because this couldn’t be happening.

Magic, he said inside her mind.

She breathed water out like an exhale, her body relaxing.

Now, hold still, I must heal you.

It was Astraea’s doing, Vahly said telepathically, gesturing to her injured mid-section. Ryton, the male, ended up helping me escape.

Arc cocked his head, disbelieving, as his hands wove magic over Vahly’s body. Dark and light unspooled from his fingertips. He set a hand against her stomach and a pleasant, healing heat bloomed under his touch.

The pain faded into a dull ache before disappearing completely. It was surprising he could heal such a serious wound so quickly.

I wish I could call on my earth powers. In this form, the magic refuses to rise. How does your magic work so well in the sea?

Because we are the first kynd, elven magic works in all places, albeit to varying degrees. I am weaker here, but not completely ineffective. Especially now.

Now? Are you growing stronger?

I am. He frowned, the knowledge making him uncomfortable for some unknown reason.

But the questions would have to wait.

Vahly stood, wishing they had time for a proper thank you, then followed Arc out of the stall and into the glowing light of the courtyard.

Should I aid you in swimming? Arc asked.

No, when Ryton turned me into this, he accidentally gave me water magic. Watch this.

Vahly soared through the water, the sound of the sea kynd’s magic crashing in her ears. She looked over her shoulder to see Arc swimming behind her, keeping up fairly well.

Elf, you are supposed to be far behind and incredibly impressed with me.

Shrugging, his lips quirking into a sly grin, he pulled his arms back, accomplishing a strong stroke as they exited the courtyard and swam into an empty side street.

A shout punched through the eddies curling around Vahly’s head as she swam.

Her heart jumped.

Hurry! Arc came up beside her, increasing his speed, magic golden around his temples.

I will not be caught. Not again, she said, willing the words to become truth and doing her level best to shove the image of the coinfish from her thoughts.