“Can you hold back the Unchained when I try to escape?” Please, Elara, let me out of this place so I can help my friends. “Then I can free all these souls and send them back to Paradise.”
I’ll need Sabine’s flute and a miracle to make that happen, but I’m staking my faith on the power of ritual music. Several siren songs exist: one for a rite of passage, one to open the Gates, one to lure souls to the Underworld, and one to lure souls to Paradise. Who’s to say more siren songs can’t be written? What if I played a new one tonight and used Elara’s Light to guide me? A new song might be able to break the barrier of Tyrus’s realm and call out the wrongly trapped souls.
Estelle turns to Aurélien and arches a brow. He grins, sliding his large hand around hers. “Together, we are strong enough.”
I study the Unchained again. Even though they’ve grown countless in number, there must be this many or more of the Chained rightly locked in the deeper realms of the Underworld.
“Good,” I reply. “Then prepare yourselves.”
I can do more than free innocent souls tonight. I’ve just realized how my friends and I can defeat Tyrus.
37
Bastien
HOLD ON, AILESSE. I’M COMING for you. My pulse hasn’t stopped racing since I heard her voice. She’s really here. And she’s depending on me.
I dig my oars into the water and hold the rowboat steady against the tide. “Come on, Ferriers.” I strain my eyes to focus on the dark beach. Ailesse needs their help, too.
I catch a flash of Sabine’s white dress as she ducks a strike from Odiva’s staff. Her famille should be helping her, but they’re busy fighting an invisible army of the Chained. It can’t be easy, but I have no patience. Forcing Odiva to Tyrus’s Gate is more important. Meanwhile, down the beach, Cas’s and Godart’s weapons collide. They’ve started their duel.
“Sabine and the Ferriers aren’t going to come in time,” Jules says. She’s seated across from me, the loose hair from her braid plastered to her forehead and neck. We’re both soaked to the bone. “The Gate won’t stay open forever.”
The black wave hovers six feet to my left. Roxane and another Ferrier I don’t know are in the water in front of it. I can’t see the soul they’re trying to ferry, but he must be powerful if it takes both of them to wrangle him.
“You’re right.” I turn the boat around with my oars.
“What are you doing?”
“We have to help Sabine. I have to help her,” I correct myself. “You’re getting off at the other end of the shore.” My teeth grind together. “I don’t know what you were thinking coming here. You nearly got yourself killed.”
“Don’t go back to the shore.”
“You have a better idea?”
“Yes.” She takes a focused breath. It sounds like paper shredding in her chest. “We get Ailesse on our own.”
My fingers clench the oars so tightly my hands throb. My muscles burn with building rage. I finally realize why Jules has had almost manic energy these past several days, despite being so sick. She’s figured out a way to really help: she wants to exchange herself for Ailesse. “If you think I’m going to let you pass through the Gate of the Underworld, you’ve lost your damn mind.”
Her small and resigned smile makes me want to throttle her. “I’m dying, Bastien.”
“No. You’re healing. And once the Chained are gone—”
“I’m not healing! The damage is done.” She coughs hard into her sleeve, and blood spreads through the wet cloth. “My soul is hanging by a thread. I feel that thread unraveling. Let me die on my own terms.”
“Death in the Underworld?” I try to scoff, but my throat is too choked. “It would be torture.”
“It would be temporary. You’ll free me when you free the other Unchained. I’ll find your father among them, and I’ll go with him to Paradise.” Her eyes glitter with tears. “Think about it. I’ll be with my father there, too.”
My head sags. I drop one of the oars and pinch the inner corners of my eyes.
“You and I made a pact eight years ago to get our revenge,” she goes on. “This is my last stand—the last thing I can do to fight for what we’ve worked so hard for.”
“Stop, Jules!” My voice breaks. “I won’t hear this.”
“You have to.” She grabs my hand. “Ailesse has to be free to help Sabine defeat Odiva and connect the two Gates.”
“We’ll find another way.”
“Let me go, Bastien.” She moves closer, kneeling in the hull of the rowboat. “I trust you to save my soul.”
I gaze at her through my hot and blurry eyes. I can’t . . . I won’t let my best friend die.
I clench my jaw, shake off her hand, and grab the oars. I give them a strong pull.
“Fine,” Jules says, and quickly rises. “Then we’ll do this my way.”
She leaps out of the boat.
I gape in horror. The dark water by the Gate swallows her from sight. “Jules!” Adrenaline jolts through me. I drop the oars and dive in after her.
My vision floods with black. I grope blindly, searching for an arm, a leg—anything I can grab on to so I can pull her away.
My eyes adjust a little. I see the white dresses of the two nearby Ferriers. They’re still fighting the Chained. Then I glimpse Jules’s braid. It trails behind her as she swims for the Gate. The rushing black veil is even darker than the water. I can’t resist staring into it. For a brief moment, all my muscles go slack. I drift weightless in the current. Ailesse.
From the other side of the Gate, her eyes meet mine, and my chest squeezes tight. She’s backlit by a strange glow, and her auburn hair swirls in the water like fire.
She looks to Jules, who’s darting straight toward her, and her eyes widen. “No!” The water muffles her voice.
I swim hard again. Jules is three feet from the Gate. I grab hold of her boot when she kicks to move faster. She jerks her leg, and her heel smacks my arm away.
“Jules, don’t!” Ailesse throws up her hands, trying to stop her. She can’t, trapped inside the Gate. Jules reaches through it and seizes her wrist. I snag Jules’s other arm.
“Please!” I shout, but my voice is lost in a spray of bubbles.
I pull her, but she won’t let go of Ailesse. She thrashes a moment before her body goes still. I worry she’s on the verge of drowning, but her expression is alert . . . and peaceful. The anger that’s fueled her—that’s kept her alive since we were twelve—is gone. A faint smile touches her mouth. She looks between Ailesse and me, like she’s asking for permission.
Permission to die.
My heart is in my throat. It’s all I can do to hold in a broken sob so I don’t lose any more air. It wasn’t supposed to end like this for Jules. But the least I can do is help her keep her soul—before the rest of her Light is drained away.
My pulse pounds slower as I loosen my hold on her arm. It slides through my grip until I catch her hand again. Just for a moment. I’ll save you, I mouth. I’ll do what she asked. I’ll see her brought back to Paradise with my father, even if it kills me.
I love you, she mouths back.
I see the girl who raced through the streets of the poor districts with me, who practiced knife fighting until the Dovré boys respected her, who followed me every full moon while we hunted for a Bone Crier.
My fingers open . . . and I let her slip away.
Jules yanks herself through the Gate, keeping her grip on Ailesse. A moment later, Ailesse is shoved out, shock written all over her face. We grab hands and kick to the surface.
Our heads emerge. I gasp for breath, and then those breaths hitch. “Ailesse . . .”
Her arms slide under mine. I bury my head against her neck, sobbing openly now. Her graced strength bears me up so I don’t sink. Losing Jules . . . holding Ailesse again . . . it’s all too much.
There’s chaos all around us—the unearthly howls of the Chained, the battle cries of the Ferriers, the rumbling sky as the storm grows hea
vier—but Ailesse is a calm force against everything. She doesn’t chide me for falling apart. She doesn’t rally me, either. She just carries me in the water, her lips pressing again and again to the side of my face, until I get ahold of myself.
It’s not too long before I gather my strength and breathe steadier. Fierce determination builds inside me. I can’t let Jules’s sacrifice be in vain.
I rest my forehead against Ailesse’s, taking in her warmth one more moment before I say, “I’m ready.”
She kisses my mouth tenderly. I don’t know what it means for us, but I close my eyes and let myself hope. When she pulls back to look at me, I see the fearless warrior I met at Castelpont three months ago. “I know how to defeat Tyrus,” she says.
I lift my brows. “We’ll have to defeat your mother first.”
Her hand lowers to the pouch of grace bones around her neck. “I think I can give us a fighting chance.”
38
Sabine
I LUNGE WITH MY STAFF and strike for my mother’s stomach, another desperate attempt to prod her into the sea and toward Tyrus’s Gate. Her staff swings with impressive speed. She blocks the hit. Her eagle owl is faster than my nighthawk, but my red stag is quicker than her noctule bat. Except for her greater experience with her graces, our abilities are evenly matched.
She leaps over me and lands a jab to my arm. I hiss, though she could have struck my head. She doesn’t want to kill me. Not yet, anyway. She hits me again while I’m still smarting. I stumble toward the shoreline. She’s intent on driving me toward the Gates, too. Does she need me to form another channel between Paradise and the Underworld? All I know is that Tyrus wants the rest of Elara’s souls, and my mother has become his willing servant.
I dodge her next strike. Our staffs collide. I grab hers with one hand, and she grabs mine. We wrestle against each other in a pushing match. “Why did you even ask me to be your heir?” I pant for breath. Rain streams down my face. “Our famille isn’t even sacred to you anymore.”
“The world will always need Ferriers.” My mother grits her teeth, her black eyes mere inches from mine. “What happens to Paradise doesn’t change that.”
“Do you really want all souls to be Chained?”
“It is the fate intended for all mortals. The realms of the Beyond were never meant to be divided.”
“Think of what you’re saying, Mother!” My feet dig into the sand as I push harder. “The Leurress are mortal, too. If the realms join, then when we die, we’ll also become Chained. That would mean eternal torture. You can’t want that for us.”
Her face hardens with stubbornness. “Tyrus will honor the souls of the Leurress.”
“There is no honorable place in the Underworld.”
“Tyrus promised—”
“Tyrus is a liar!” I break away and shuffle backward to give myself more room to fight. “He will say anything to get what he wants. I should know; his golden jackal grace floods me with doubts and confusion as much as it does with false pride. If this is immortality, it isn’t worth it.”
My mother’s gaze flickers to the lump where my crescent-moon pendant is tucked under the neckline of my dress. She moistens her lips. “Then relinquish the bone to me, daughter.” She shifts her weight onto her back leg, holding her staff low behind her. Her rain-soaked dress doesn’t impede her flawless agility. “I am prepared to bear it.”
Panic shoots through my veins. “I’ll never give it to you.”
I strike for her neck. She swings her staff around her hip and snaps my weapon away. She pivots to hit my shoulder next. I’m scrambling to block the blow when I hear a loud noise like wood shattering. A girl cries, “Bastien!”
Ailesse?
My mother’s staff whips into me. I’m thrown to the sand. I grimace, but quickly roll over, purposefully launching myself into the chaos of Ferriers battling souls. I hurry past them and crawl around the other side of a five-foot boulder to hide.
I scan the sea, and my heart jumps. I’m not imagining things. Ailesse really is out there. She’s in the water, fifteen yards away. She and Bastien are swimming alongside the broken remains of his rowboat. A Chained is trying to drown him, but Ailesse attacks the soul and shoves him off toward another Ferrier.
I don’t understand. How did Bastien free her? And where is Jules? I saw her with him after I opened the Gates.
A rasp-screech catches my attention above the calamitous sounds of battle. I gasp. A surge of hope runs through my body. The silver owl. She’s come. She flaps her wings, hovering over where Cas is fighting King Godart.
She dives between them just as Godart lunges to stab Cas with his sword. The distraction gives Cas the opportunity to deflect the attack. Before Godart can strike again, the silver owl flies in his face and drags her talons across his cheek. He cries out, but it’s a noise of fury, not pain.
“Sabine!” Ailesse again. If she can see me at this distance—in the dark—she still has her grace bones.
I turn to her, but I don’t dare shout back. I’d reveal my hiding place. Despite my jackal endurance, I’m not ready to fight my mother again. I didn’t think I’d have to do this alone.
“Throw me the flute!” Ailesse is ten yards from the shoreline. Bastien is right behind her, the water at chest level. “I know how to free the Unchained!”
I feel my eyes widen. The flute can free them? I pull the instrument from the pouch on my belt. Throw it, I command myself, but my muscles lock and my grip on the flute squeezes tighter. If I give it to my sister, I may as well be handing over the title of matrone.
That’s what I’ve already decided to do. So why can’t I let it go? I try to throw it again, but I can’t make myself move. I’m paralyzed, pulse hammering. Blood rushes to my head. What’s the matter with me? I killed the jackal and carved the flute from its femur, but this instrument was never meant to be mine. I should give it up.
I narrow my gaze on Ailesse. It shouldn’t surprise me that she would be the one to claim victory tonight. She was always the better leader, the better fighter, the better Leurress. My stomach burns. I didn’t even get the chance to help save her.
“Hurry!” Her eyes dart to the other side of the boulder.
I suck in a breath through clenched teeth. Move, Sabine. Let the flute go. This won’t be the last time you can save someone.
The tension in my body eases. I push to my feet and arc my arm back. Just as I move to hurl the flute, something hard and slim presses against my windpipe. I’m jerked backward by my mother’s staff. She’s standing right behind me, choking me with it.
“Drop the flute.” Her breath is hot in my ear.
I blink against the pain and building pressure in my lungs, but I don’t drop it. It isn’t mine, and I can’t let it be hers.
In one quick movement, she whips the staff away from my neck and strikes my wrist. My grip weakens. The flute tumbles to the sand.
I lunge to grab it back, but I’m too late. She plucks it up and snaps it into two pieces.
I freeze, reeling in shock.
The sky thunders. My heart drumrolls with it.
It’s all right, it’s all right. My mother has the original bone flute and—
She pulls the other flute from her dress pocket and also breaks it in two. “The Unchained stay with Tyrus,” she says, her declaration loud and bold.
Five yards from the shore, Ailesse also stands stunned, eyes horrified.
Beyond her in the distant sea, where the flooded land bridge ends, the jutting black Gates of the Underworld collapse, and the shimmering Gates and spiral staircase to Paradise also disappear.
39
Ailesse
I GO RIGID. “WHAT JUST happened?” Bastien asks. His eyes aren’t graced. He can’t see my mother on the shore in the darkness. He doesn’t know what she’s done.
“She—she broke them.” The tide crashes into my back. Bastien stumbles forward a step, but I stand stone-still against its force. “We needed them to . . .” I shake
my head. Fight to catch my breath. I’m not used to the demand on my lungs or the way my heart slams against my rib cage. I can’t gather my thoughts. “How will we free them now?”
“I don’t understand.” Rain streaks down the planes of his face. “What broke? Who broke it?”
“The flutes. My mother . . . she destroyed both of them.”
Bastien’s mouth falls slack. “Merde.”
My sentiments exactly.
For one staggered, stunned moment, the fighting in the sea and on the shore ceases. The chazoure souls don’t feel the pull of the Gates anymore. There are no Gates. The Unchained stop advancing. The Chained stop resisting. I can’t see the orvande souls in the Miroir anymore, but I imagine they’ve halted, too.
The Ferriers rapidly assess what’s changed. Then one soul—an emaciated Unchained man—shuffles backward in the sand. That small movement spurs a ripple of commotion among the dead. More backtrack. Some turn around in the sea. The first man breaks into a run. Shouts of panic arise. The ripple launches a riptide. All the souls start fleeing the inlet.
Not again. Many souls have already been ferried tonight, but at least a hundred are still unmoored.
The Ferriers spring to action, trying to herd them together. A Chained woman rushes past me. I’m instinctively reaching for her when a shrill screech grabs my attention.
The silver owl is here. She’s flying over Cas. She launches herself at Godart. His face is already cut up from her talons. She rakes them across his right eye. He howls, covering it with his hand. My mother gasps and runs toward him, leaving Sabine. “Godart!”
“Come on, Ailesse!” Bastien grabs my arm. “If Cas dies, you die.”
Cold perspiration flashes across my chest. We race to the shore.
My knee doesn’t even twinge once I’m out of the water. I expected my injury to return once I came back through Tyrus’s Gate, but my leg is strong. Whole.
I inhale a steadying breath. I can defeat my mother. I will. We will.
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