I charge Kat, but the duchess steps aside smoothly. I shoot forward and catch myself from crashing into the wall. I grit my teeth in frustration. My methods are untested. Certainly I’ve been in a fight before—bar brawls and scuffles with Kat where Kat has nearly always gotten the better of me.
Aleta squares her shoulders, and flames encircle her arm.
“How did you know?” I demand, trying to distract Kat long enough for Aleta to try another approach—hopefully one that has a bit more impact.
“That you’d be leaving?” Kat’s eyes glint. She pauses, tutting and wagging a finger at Aleta, tossing a breeze at her. The princess’s fire is snuffed out, and Aleta is knocked into the blazing curtain. I cry out as the flames engulf her like she’s kindling. She doesn’t stir.
“Stupid girl,” Kat says carelessly. “She really should know better. I’ve been slipping my little wind whisperers into her room for years.” She chuckles, muttering, “‘Unbreakable.’ Pah. There is nothing about her I don’t know.”
The fire eats its way across the room, an appetite that cannot be sated. It flares bright over Aleta’s discarded roses. I race to the window. I’ll extinguish the blaze with the wind, like blowing out a candle.
But when I open the window, it only fans the flames higher.
Aleta is still, the fire cocooning her. I reach for her, intending to pull her from it, but the fire leaps out, burning over my skin, and I step away, uncertain. Perspiration cascades heavily over my face. The blow that Kat gave her rendered Aleta unconscious, but she’s unharmed in the flames. It’s true, what they say. It recognizes the Torcher princess as its brethren, leaving even her clothes unsinged.
Arms crossed patiently, Kat is content to watch. “Nor is there anything about you that I do not know,” she comments.
“You know nothing about me,” I bite out, turning back to her. One way or another, I’ll finish this tonight.
“Of course I do.” She runs her tongue over her teeth. “For instance, I know that Ardin’s wife was barren.”
“What?” That isn’t true. Ma had been pregnant when she and Da had left the capital. She’d died birthing me somewhere along the way to Abeline. My eyebrows furrow. Hadn’t she?
Kat leans against an enflamed pillar. The orange light gives her an eerie cast as the flickering flames waltz shadows over her features. Her eyes are eager on my face. “It’s why she left.”
“My ma died birthing me,” I say, suddenly unsure. I lick the sweat from my lips. The room is too hot, and my knife, which was an extension of my arm a moment ago, feels heavy and awkward in my clumsy fingers. “You’re lying.”
“Am I? Ask your father sometime, Lady Breena.” Kat snorts in disgust. “You aren’t what you think you are. Filthy Nereid brat.”
“Nereid?” Now I’m sure Kat is lying. Not that I could ask Da if I wanted to. He left. I push aside the complicated emotion. “I’ve lived in Egria my entire life.”
“Wrong again!” She ticks the list off on her fingers one by one. “Wrong about your birthplace. Wrong about your birth date.”
My mind spirals. After my catastrophe of a Reveal, Kat had said something…
I haven’t even reached my seventeenth year.
Haven’t you?
“And,” Kat concludes, “wrong about your birth parents.”
“Do shut up, Katerine.” A familiar voice breaks in loudly. “You always did have a tendency to talk too much.”
I freeze. It can’t be. He left.
But I turn, needing to see for myself. There’s Da, standing proudly before me, silhouetted in the doorway.
He’s undernourished. Pale. Dirty.
But he’s there.
He toes the door shut so Kat can’t call for assistance. He turns and rolls his eyes at me. “By the ether, Breena Rose, you’re a hard girl to get a hold of. I’ve been searching all over the castle tonight.”
“Da,” I say, dumbfounded. Relief and confusion war within me. He’s here. He hasn’t left me.
“I might still be looking if I hadn’t run into a certain prince and another Adept who were after the same thing I was.”
Caden. And Tregle? What are they looking for me for?
“Wait for me,” Caden had said.
Oh. They were going to get us out. Maybe the Makers are on my side after all if they’re the only people Da ran into.
“I may not be in my prime, but keeping up with a Rider is no easy task. Wind rather speeds up my run, you know. Still, I expect they’ll be along any moment now.” He tilts his head. “Do we need to have a talk about the evils of men, Breena Rose?”
“I don’t think now’s the time,” I croak. My head spins. It’s too much. First I’m a tavern girl, then a duchess, then a Thrower and then…
Da…isn’t my da?
Words stick in my throat. “Is that true? What she said?” I search his face. “I’m not your daughter?”
Hurt crosses his features, swims in the murky depths of his brown eyes. “Whatever else we both may be, I have always considered you my daughter.”
“But by blood?” I insist. “Not by blood?”
Eternity is suspended on my heartbeats, and it takes too long for him to answer. He hesitates, then hangs his head and meets my eyes. “No.”
“Then…who?”
Kat’s whisper slithers between the fire’s crackling. “I had wondered where the princess of Nereidium had gone to when I’d finished disposing of her parents.”
My world drops from beneath my feet. “What?”
“Breena,” Da pleads. “I will explain later. I’ll tell you the whole story, leave nothing out. But tonight is the one chance we’ll have to escape.”
I ignore him. My breaths are coming in shorter as smoke clouds the room. The puddle of water lifts, hovering over the carpet to twirl midair.
“You brought the princess of Nereidium here to Egria,” I say to Kat. Wildly, I point at Aleta’s unconscious form. “That’s her, lying there. Right. There.”
“Enough,” Kat said. “Do not feign ignorance. You’re the first Thrower in Egria in sixteen years. You think it is a coincidence that the abilities ceased with the abduction of Nereidium’s heir apparent? No. His Majesty suspected that Ardin had some knowledge on the subject. It’s the only reason he kept him alive.”
My thoughts coalesce. It’s suddenly clear. “You knew,” I breathe. “All of this time, you’ve known. That’s why you kept testing me, why you kept torturing me. I’m the treasure the king seeks?”
“Of course I knew!” Kat snaps. Her features twist into a snarl. “I would not admit that I had failed His Majesty by failing to secure the babe. I found another, the same age, and brought her to court. It did not matter. I knew that one day we would take Nereidium for our own. The king doesn’t need Throwers or a political tie for the throne. He has me. I will conquer all for him. And that is why I’ve decided to end this little game we’re playing.”
Lightning-quick, a shot of air knocks Da off his feet and across the room as Kat shoots toward me.
Not this time. I’m ready for it when Kat grips my shoulder and oxygen flees my body. The now-familiar burning fills my lungs as my body rebels, urgent for air. The Rider’s expression is victorious, blue eyes crazed with glee.
But Katerine has forgotten. I don’t need my Elemental abilities to fight back. With my free arm, I raise my hand, and the point of my blade presses an indentation into Kat’s neck.
The countess stills, stiffening. Her chin lifts in invitation.
I press harder, raising a drop of blood. My vision darkens, dancing with spots. I can hear my own strangled attempts to breathe, but I meet Kat’s eyes in a challenging stare. I could kill her. Stop her from stealing anyone else’s life away again.
Air filters into me, and I gasp, breathing deeply, struggling to keep my frantic breaths even and my hand steady at her neck. From the corner of my eye, I see Da watching us warily, eyes flicking back and forth between us.
I barely have
time to wonder why Kat’s spared me when wind steals the knife from my hand.
And time defies itself. It moves slowly, but all too quick, an infinity wrapped in a moment. I watch as Kat’s blood-red nails curl around the hilt of the knife, hear Da’s shout of denial. He leaps, sprinting, the air at his back, increasing his speed until a cyclone propels him across the room, but I know he won’t make it in time to stop her. I brace myself for it, to feel the blade slip through my skin and into my heart like it’s nothing.
Da’s nearly upon us. Kat smiles.
With a feral cry, she spins, plunging the knife into Da’s throat instead.
The scream rips itself from my vocal cords as Da falls backward into a haze of flame.
“Da! No!”
Something in me fractures. I rush to catch him, but there’s no wind at my back to aid my speed. He falls with a thud to the ground, choking, hands at the hilt of the knife.
I seize him under his shoulders and heave, dragging him to the center of the room, still free of flames. My hands flit over him, frantic, hesitant, useless.
“Da,” I choke out. Nonononono. “What do I do?” I breathe heavily, rushed gasps that sound like whimpers.
“Breena,” he gurgles. Blood bubbles around the blade.
“Tell me what to do,” I beg. “I’ll do it, I swear. Anything.”
“You can’t do anything, princess,” Kat singsongs gleefully.
“Shut. Up!” I roar.
I bolt to my feet, and a river spirals in through the open window, crashing over the room and dousing the flames. Aleta coughs, but remains unconscious. The room smokes, steam rising into the air. I’m not sure if I’ve yanked the water from the clouds or summoned it from the ocean, and I don’t care. It pools at my feet, waiting for instruction, and with almost no thought, I send it twining around Kat in a water twister. The Rider hovers in the liquid’s embrace and laughs in my face.
“Why waste both of our times, little girl? We both know you don’t have the fortitude to end my life.” She grins her predator’s grin, but this time I am the hunter and Kat is an animal that needs to be put down.
“Da was right,” I say darkly. “You do talk too much.”
My hand shoots out instinctively, and the water bends to my will. It floods Kat’s mouth, and her eyes go wide, body bucking against the invasion. Air pushes against the water in Kat’s lungs, but my anger is strong and I hold my water fast. Infinitesimally, the air gives, and Kat surrenders, closing her eyes as the water sweeps through her.
Her body crashes to the ground as I release my hold and fall to my knees, exhausted.
Da’s breaths are labored now, his eyes bleary.
“I’m sorry. This is my fault. If I hadn’t— if I’d been quicker—” If I just apologize, make him understand, he won’t—“Please don’t leave me alone here,” I sob. “You’re my da, no matter what anyone else says. And I forgive you for everything else. Just…don’t go.”
“I love you,” he manages. He fumbles for my hand, and I grip it desperately.
“You say that like you’re not going to see me in the morn.” I say it jokingly but can hear how the tears clog my words.
“The Makers,” he wheezes with a brave attempt at a smile, “are calling me home.”
“I’m calling you home,” I counter. “Wherever that is. Please.”
He sighs, closing his eyes.
“Da?” I shake him but stop at the jarring sight of the knife wobbling in his throat. I don’t know how long I sit, crouched over him, counting his breaths, listening to the dripping furniture, the wind that now rushes through the open window, free of a Rider’s hold. Gradually, his breaths grow shallower and shallower.
And then his chest is still.
But still I sit, staring at it, willing it to rise again. I’m hollow inside, drained of any ambition other than this. I have no real identity and the Makers have abandoned me and my father is dead.
Hands shake my shoulders, and I shrug them off blindly. “Get off.”
They grasp me, lifting me bodily, and my water rises for another strike as I turn aching eyes to their owner and scream. “Get off, I said!”
Caden jumps back, hands raised, eyes wide.
When had he gotten here? Not caring, I dissolve into tears. My wave splashes down. “My da,” I say feebly.
He shushes me, gathering me into his arms. “I know,” he says into my hair. “I’m so sorry, Bree.”
I cling to him like a lifeline, the only thing keeping me tethered to this world.
He pulls me back to arm’s length and wipes my tears away with his thumbs.
“I wish you’d waited for me,” he says—a little desperately, I think. “Adept Tregle and I had prepared for your liberation, but now my father knows that Ardin escaped the dungeon. Guards are likely on their way here now. If you and Aleta are to escape—” He stops, casting a glance over to the window, where, I see, Tregle has hoisted Aleta’s unconscious form into his arms.
I’ve all but forgotten about her. I put a hand to my mouth in worry, scrambling to my feet. I can’t lose someone else tonight. But Tregle nods to us both grimly, and I exhale with shaky relief. She’s all right.
Caden also lets out a puff of air. “If you’re to escape, it has to be now.”
“There’s a tunnel,” I say, voice hoarse. “In Aleta’s room. The wall behind the wardrobe.” My gaze falls to Da—seeing his corpse at my feet is nearly my undoing. “Caden, I can’t just leave him here like this. It’s not right.”
“All right,” he says hurriedly. “You won’t.”
It happens quickly after that. Tregle sets Aleta down gently on the ground, and he and Caden move the wardrobe aside. I press the stones that Aleta had shown me to move the wall, and we slip inside. Dirt brushes over our feet.
Caden brings Da in and lays him at my feet. I swallow hard. If it weren’t for the knife in his throat, I might think he’s just in a deep sleep.
Caden follows my eyes and removes the knife without comment. “I know it’s not enough,” he says quietly. “But if you say your goodbyes to him here, I promise to find a way to bury him, with a proper marker and a prayer to ease his passing.”
I nod wordlessly, looking away. He tries to hand the knife to me, but I shy away. It’s tainted with Da’s blood. I want nothing to do with it.
“Please.” He presses it into my hand. “You may have need of it on your journey.”
Unfortunately true. I take it.
Tregle cradles Aleta in his lap as he settles down and smooths back her hair.
We’ll have to wait until she awakens to truly escape, but we’re safe here in the tunnel. Kat’s dead, and presumably all of her knowledge of Aleta’s chambers has died with her.
“I wish I could go with you. But I have to stay. Try to keep my father in check.” Caden presses a kiss to the inside of my wrist in farewell, eyes solemn and filled with regret. “I hope someday we’ll meet again, Breena of Secan.”
All I can see when I look at him right now is his father’s eyes. My hand drops to my side, and he steps back, closing the tunnel’s opening. Darkness devours my friends’ faces. Tregle flicks his fingers to summon a flame.
“Put that out,” I say dully. I’ve had enough fire to last me a lifetime. The darkness suits me right now.
It’s a long while that we sit there, listening as the guards tear apart the room, yanking drawers from dressers. Aleta wakes some way through it, and Tregle claps a hand over her mouth to hush her questions, putting a finger to his lips and shaking his head. There’s a harrowing moment when we stiffen as the wardrobe doors that protect our hiding space open, but we relax again when they move on.
I’m silent, damming up the emotions that have flooded from me this night. When all is still again, we’ll leave the tunnel. Get to Nereidium. Make the Egrian king and all who are loyal to him pay for his crimes.
Sorrow drains from me, replaced with a boiling conviction.
They know that fire can burn.
But they’ve forgotten how water can scald.
Acknowledgements
It’s never been possible that I’d view writing as a solitary endeavor and I count myself very lucky for that. I’m fortunate to have a slew of wonderful people in my corner, and this book wouldn’t exist without them.
Lindsey Young and Alex Brown were my very first critique partners and readers. Their unfailing enthusiasm and support lifted me through my doubts, and they both had a knack for honing in on spots that simply didn’t work. I owe them so much for that and for continuing to put up with my incessant (and increasingly less coherent) texts and chats.
Thank you to some of my other early readers. I doubt I would have made it past a first draft if Angel Cruz hadn’t prodded me with just the right insightful question and Gillian Berry made the astute observation that I needed a little more menace and a little more Caden before I could call my draft final.
My family and friends supported me unquestioningly when I declared in college that my “plan” was to be a writer. I can’t thank them enough for their support, but sorry, guys. I didn’t write any of you into my novel like you requested.
Thanks is also owed to “the bevy:” Lindsey Young, Stephanie Moncada, and Katie Vincent. They’ve kept me sane through our all-caps and emoji-laden tweets, emails, and text messages…even if others might doubt our sanity if they were to read them.
I don’t know that I could have made the leap to self-publish without Jamie Grey, who answered my questions kindly and with unflagging patience.
Thank you to the ladies of Inaccurate Realities for publishing an accompanying story to Threats of Sky and Sea. I love your magazine, and I loved writing Caden’s short story.
I never could have done this without the U_M girls, simply because they are constant sources of laughter and inspiration. Who could have guessed that Sailor Moon would not only bring us together, but keep us together all these years later?
Thank you to Nathalia Suellen who designed a cover for Threats of Sky and Sea that’s so beautiful it could make you weep. Thank you to Rebecca Weston for your copy edits and sharp eye. And thank you to Caitlin Greer for creating a beautiful book interior.
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