And my mother isn’t here.
And Astrid’s nearly at the cliffside…
And this is all wrong.
Suddenly, I feel the beating of my heart against my chest, a wild drumming. But the voices are so loud, screaming at me, and my legs won’t work.
I need to get out of this. But I can barely hear myself think over their shouts, the wind’s howl, the rushing river— The river. Water.
Something happened to me recently, and water saved me.
I need my body back.
Inner fire blazes through my chest; I picture the chains lacing around my arms and legs snapping, and then, with a roar, I throw my body to the side.
I smack into Eldy, and we fall, tumbling on the ground until we both splash into the white water of the raging river.
74
Rosalina
Cold water pounds my head, my face, down my throat. But my thoughts return to me with shocking clarity. And there’s one thought raging above all the rest.
I kick to the surface. The water rushes so fast, I’m already carried away from precipice of the cliff. But I can still see Astrid and Marigold, dangerously close to the edge. I throw my hand out of the water to shoot a tangle of briars to trap them—
Nothing comes.
My bargain with Caspian was rescinded, my bracelets are gone. I have no power to create briars anymore, and there’s none around for me to take control of.
I can’t think about the shocking cold or the water splashing down my throat or the rocks smashing against my legs or even Eldy floundering beside me. I need to break Astrid and Marigold’s enchantment before they throw themselves off the cliff. But how?
Magic—it’s inside of me. Fire comes as easily as breathing, but that’s not the only thing I’ve summoned. I think of the training grounds, of Dayton’s hands on my shoulders, of the water arrow shooting straight into the target.
I don’t have to summon water from nothing—I only need to take control of it. My human self grew up in rainstorms and trees that dripped with dew. I survived the icy cold of a lake, and I rescued my mate from the depths of a frozen river. My fae body remembers everything. It lives in my bones and blood. Not just my own experience, but that of the rain, the trees, the lake, the river. I have been reborn a part of the natural world.
And I will make it answer me.
The numbness and pain dissipates, replaced by a rush of power. Catching sight of Astrid and Marigold, I channel that energy out of my body and into the river.
Tendrils of water reminiscent of thorned vines surge out, rushing over the two fae women. Astrid falls away from the edge of the cliff, slamming into Marigold. They both collapse on the ground. More tendrils of water splash over their faces.
I catch sight of Astrid shaking her head and coughing before the river sweeps me away.
Kicking, I keep my head above the water, trying to find purchase. But the riverbank is slick rock, the river too deep to stand. Again, my useless hand flicks out, attempting to throw a briar at the shore. But there’s nothing.
A flash of gray hair bobs beside me. Eldy sputters before dipping under the surface. He pops up a little ways away, eyes wide and frightened, mouth agape. “I-I can’t swim!”
“I’m coming—” I try to say, but white water rushes over my head. For a second, there’s nothing but bubbles in my vision, and I’m afraid I’ve lost what is up and what is down. But somehow, I find the surface and gasp in a breath.
I’ve got to get Eldy out of here. The water still feels close at my command. I force myself to concentrate on Eldy, channeling the water to rise around him, lifting him to the surface. For a moment, he bops up in the swell, but the river’s too fast, too vicious. It sweeps him back down.
“Eldy!” I swim forward to grab him and snag a fistful of hair, yanking his head out of the water.
He struggles to suck in a breath before another surge of white water charges over us.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, I have to do something! What power do I have to get him out of the river? I have to try!
My magic is like a livewire inside of me, sparking off my edges. I grab Eldy’s head, holding him out of the water with all the strength left in me. His eyes shimmer with fear.
The words come out of me like a prayer and a plea, born from something deep, buried underneath the rest of my magic: “Fly. Fly away.”
His body shifts beneath my fingers. Skin grows feathers, arms shrink to wings, and then I’m careening down the river, hands held aloft, cradling a tiny bird.
Fear overtakes reason as I toss the bird into the air. It beats its wings above me. The eyes…