Page 95 of Wild Reverence

LXXIII

Like Bone in Celestial Light

MATILDA

From my command of Maiden Tower, I watched Vincent vanish into the river, his body leaving a trail of foam behind on the surface. My heart pounded, erratic with fear. It was a fear I had never known before, had never tasted before, and it flooded my lungs like salt water.

I waited, desperate, for him to resurface.

My bones felt brittle as the seconds stretched on, long as hours.

Blood seeped between my teeth. I belatedly realized I had bitten down on my lip; I had not even felt the pain.

I swallowed the sweetness until my stomach churned, but nothing could tear my eyes away from the rapids.

My gaze swept across the rise and fall of the river, again and again, waiting for Vincent to break the dark water.

He remained submerged, as did Grimald.

My only relief was that the eye in the gemstone remained sleeping on my belt.

Cursing, I climbed upon the tower’s battlements, preparing to jump.

“ No. ” Bade’s grip was firm on my arm, holding me back. “Use your magic, Matilda. If you jump, you will lose your vantage point. You need to be able to see him in order to save him.”

I hesitated, tempted to tear my arm away as molten rage spread through me.

But he was right.

The wind blew. Hair tangled across my face—I finally felt cold—and I lifted my sinister hand and closed it into a fist, pulling. At once, the snow ceased to fall.

I had learned that my borrowed magic was not endless. Sending ice up the fortress walls had been taxing. Casting spells over firelight had made me tremble. I felt deep and dark as a well, but as the night dragged on, I had to dig further to fill my cupped hands with the magic I craved.

I drew a wavering breath, seeking more, deeper still. In the branching of veins, the soft edges of organs. The marrow of bones.

Bade still held on to me, but with the air swept clean of snow, I saw movement.

It was Grimald.

He bobbed on the water, farther downstream than I had anticipated.

A moment later, Vincent surfaced not far behind him, struggling to cut through the currents, his black hair blending into the midnight water. His armor was weighing him down. He would not last long, and dread pierced my chest like a pike.

I no longer had Warin’s river shoes on my feet. I would not be able to climb the ruin of Fury Tower to reach the wasted door. If Vincent drowned, I would be at a loss to find him in the wasteland before the mists drew his soul through the gate.

Keep these hidden until you need them. Adria’s voice echoed through me . I can foil death in my own way—not as great as your own, of course—and I can also catch a glimpse of what is to come, what is destined.

I remembered the two stars of hers, glistening on my collarbone. I did not know what they would give me, how exactly she could foil Orphia, but I was desperate to draw Vincent up from the water. My own heart was drowning with him.

Shivering, I tucked my hand beneath the neck of my tunic, setting my palm over her stars. They crackled against my skin, like melting crystals, but then I felt the warmth of them seeping into me. Her magic twined with mine, and I exhaled a deep breath.

I felt something heavy on my brow, but when I lifted my fingers, there was nothing but my hair, speckled in snow, and my brow, smooth and cold. And yet a peace settled upon me, sweeping the frantic clutter of my thoughts. My mind became clear, and I knew what Vincent needed.

In his nightmares, I had been in the water with him. I had reached down and pulled him up.

An idea flashed through me.

Ice had formed on the edges of the river, delicate as lace.

It gleamed in the moonlight, and I stretched out my hand and called it closer, from the eastern bank, from the western one.

I wove a tapestry of ice, thick enough to stand on.

The two sides would meet, knitting together like a spine, and it would create a place for Vincent to haul himself from the water.

I closed my eyes and let the magic flow through me, drawing it down from the constellations above. From the memories I held of my mother. The enchantment pinched my lungs; my eyes stung with tears. It hummed through my bones, threatening to fracture them.

I pulled even more magic, delving as deep as I could, and I envisioned a bed of ice for Vincent to stand upon. Ice that formed a stairwell. Steps that plunged into the river, so he could easily climb out of the rapids.

Perspiration glistened on my skin and seeped through my tunic. The wool clung to my body as I heaved in air, as I kept my hand extended downstream.

My concentration was interrupted by a distant crack.

I was almost afraid to open my eyes.

Look at me, Red.

I lowered my hand. Blood stained my teeth. A shiver danced through me.

But I opened my eyes.

In the distance, a sheet of ice spanned the river. I had forged my own bridge, one that glittered like bone in celestial light. A shadow was rising, pulling himself onto my bridge. Then another, a second shadow that was not so fast, glistening in armor.

Grimald and Vincent were both on the ice.

“Let me go, Bade,” I breathed.

He hesitated, squeezing my arm before his hand fell away.

I tore the cloak from my neck and I jumped.