Page 103 of Between Fear and Favor

I still held the goddess’s comb in my hand, but I wasn’t sure if it would do any good. If Estri showed up, if she knew everything which went on in her domain like she’d implied, I was as good as dead too.

But perhaps I could free those in her prison beforehand, maybe they could take the knowledge from Old Telemern and do something with it.

Estri could not continue to hold the seaborn captive. She was not good or just or kind; she was only controlling. And gods, was I sick of controlling women in my life. The Sea Queen was not worth the worship or love demanded by the gods.

What is love to a god?

Swimming to the top of the tower took far longer than I needed it to. I was in a hurry, desperate for a sign of the fiery redhead I’d grown to care about over the past months. Had it been love? Could it ever be love?

I couldn’t know—especially if she was already dead.

Shimmying my hips through the hole Smokkar had brought me through the week before, I waited for my eyes to adjust. It was dark; the only thing illuminating the prison was a faint glow toward the back of the spire. Countless bodies and limbs and the coral enclosure floated between me and that ghostly luminescence, but I blinked, trying to make out its shape.

“Mairin?” I said, moving closer to the coral-covered grate which held them captive.

A cough, and that white-blue glowing mass shifted. “Not here,” a voice said. “Never here.”

Blinking, I watched as the shape of a man stood up behind the writhing tentacles and fins. Long, silver-white hair flowed loose around him, and that was the source of the light. Glowing far fainter than it had the last time I saw it, I watched as some sort of giant eel slipped through Smokkar’s tresses. Relief filled my belly, heavy and warm.

“Why haven’t you shifted?” I asked, certain his squid-like form could find a way out.

“I can’t,” he retorted. “Do you think me stupid?”

“I was told you were dead.”

“And I’m surprised you aren’t.”

“Where’s Mairin?” I asked, but before he could answer, the water around us began to churn. Spinning, it pulled me down toward that hole I’d shimmied through. I shrieked, unable to stop the water’s pull as it dragged me down, down, down.

I managed to plant one of my feet on the ground near the hole, though the current wrenched my other leg and part of my dress through. I struggled, trying to pull myself free. But the water kept flowing—relentless in its draw.

My hair plastered to the side of my head as the water level fell lower and lower, creating a pocket of air within the prison spire.

That was when the sputtering began. Gasping breaths and the sickening sound of flopping flesh filled the small enclosure. Eyes wide, I watched as Smokkar leaned against the back wall and observed his dying sisters as they flopped on the ground in their seaborn forms. In his humanoid form, he could breathe, but the seaborn were clearly dying with no air. His jaw twitched, but he didn’t move.

“It is you she wants, Princess. Best go now, before she kills them all.”

Chapter 47

RAINIER

“Rain, wake up,”Em said, her hand freezing cold on my bare shoulder.

Rolling over, I blinked up at her. She hadn’t slept, that much was clear, and her hair tumbled in soft waves around her face. Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I sat up—and was struck by the noxious scent of draíbea. Every horrific thing which had happened to me in Folterra came back in force.

In one swift motion, I flipped her onto the bed and pinned her beneath me. “Why do you smell like that?” I asked, and she closed her eyes. Turning her head to the side, she stretched her neck to show me her tattoo. Not breathing, almost to the point of pain, I brushed her golden strands from her skin. Flowers trailed up her neck, drawn with precision, and my anxiety subsided.

The shifter who had stolen her face was dead, stabbed through the neck by Em herself—but not before nearly killing my best friend. Still, the memories lurked in my subconscious. Being pulled from a deep sleep to the scent of my nightmares had brought up things I would have rather not remembered

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, reaching between us and tugging at the shirt she wore—myshirt. Revealing her shoulder, I could see the dark ink twining around the freckles on skin I knew better than my own. My heart still threatened to beat out of my chest, but I was able to relax.

“Did you smoke draíbea to help you sleep?” I asked, praying to the gods she wouldn’t start using the plant regularly. Despite its calming properties and medicinal uses, I didn’t think I could bear smelling it on her.

“I didn’t smoke,” she said, as she gently tugged my hand from her upper arm. Stunned, I let go.

“Did I hurt you?” I asked, sick with worry that I might have done what I had been fearful of when I’d avoided her all those weeks.

“No. I’m fine.” I pursed my lips, and she sighed. “Rain, really. I promise I’m fine. I’m sorry I smell like it. Malva was using it in the temple.”

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