Page 103 of These Divided Shores
Why was Teo even here? What the hell was Tom getting out of him?
One defensor rushed forward and handed something to Tom. “We found this in a shack nearby. One of our own tried to keep it for himself—said it couldn’t fall into Elazar’s hands.”
Tom took it, staring at a vial, the mixture within.
A scuffle broke out among the ranks of the defensors. Jakes, pinned by two of his comrades, tried to break free, to get to Tom.
“This is Adeluna’s potion?” Tom asked.
“Give that to me!” Jakes demanded. His eyes were wide, his breathing unsteady. “Now.”
Tom’s lips formed a tight line. “My daughter isn’t here. I know her—she would have shown herself by now. But shewas here.” He pocketed the vial. “The Eminence King will be pleased, defensor. You should be as well.”
“No.” Jakes trembled. “No, don’t give it to him, do not give it to him—”
A defensor slammed the hilt of a knife into the back of Jakes’s head. Jakes dropped, limp, to the ground. Teo chirped and jolted but held strong, tears tumbling down his cheeks.
Tom closed his eyes and rubbed the skin over his nose, gathering himself, before he looked down at Teo with a smile, gentle and fatherly, and Vex understood why Lu had believed this man her whole life. “You know why I brought you here. The Pious God has blessed you—and you are ready, I know you are. Give in. The strength is inside you. Teo, give in.”
What the hell? “Don’t talk to him,” Vex spat, the hair on the back of his neck rising. “You don’t have any right to—”
Teo shook his head, sobbed again. “No. No, I can’t.” He whipped a look at Tom that wasn’t glare or hatred or defiance—it was regret. “I’m sorry.”
Vex blanched. Tom wanted to get something out of Teo—by bringing him to a battle?
Tom sighed again. He put his hand on Teo’s head and nodded at Ingvar. “End this.”
Ingvar stepped toward Edda and Vex, his face glistening with sweat.
Teo wailed at the same moment Edda grabbed Vex’s unused pistol and leaped upright.
Blood trickled down her face from a cut along her eyebrow. “You will leave,” she stated, aiming at Ingvar. “Without the boy.”
Ingvar looked at her. Vex had seen eyes like that only on a dead man.
Cansu is like this now, wherever she is. Empty.
“Tell my daughter if she wants Teo”—Tom spoke to the ground—“she will come to me. She will surrender to Elazar. Pilkvist, defensors—”
Edda shouted. Her finger tensed on the trigger, and Vex blinked, knowing she’d pull it, knowing Ingvar would drop and—then what? Dozens of defensors still stood around them.
But Ingvar moved. He was an arm’s length from Edda—Vex knew, because it was the exact distance for a disarming technique Edda had tried to teach him. Grab the barrel of the gun, twist, break the attacker’s index finger, and spin the pistol back on them. Vex had been hopeless at learning it, but he’d seen Edda do it flawlessly time and again.
She knew that move. She’d know to defend it.
Ingvar grabbed the barrel and snapped the gun to the side. Edda went with it, twisting to avoid her finger breaking—but it put her against Ingvar.
Who had his own gun out, against his hip, cocked and ready.
The gun fired. The vibration created a sinkhole in Vex’s chest.
Defensors moved, shoving Vex back. He flailed, but there were too many hands—he bucked, swung his elbow into one defensor’s face with a satisfying crunch.
A shudder ran through Edda. She dropped to her knees.
Vex’s mouth opened on a long, croaking plea. “EDDA!”
Teo screamed. “No! No!”
