Page 158 of The Queens and the Kings
A gentle crack appeared in the restrictive ability. A hairline hope in the nether reaches. He noticed only because it stirred a ripple in the overwhelming pain. The twisting tension in his gut, stirring like a hot, winding poker.
He knew it because he sought it.
I will,he bellowed in his mind,tell the truth of the Siren Queens!
Tighter.
Tighter.
I will, he said, barely a whisper,until I die. I will. I will.
I.
Will.
The crack rippled through the globe of his mind. Himmel vanished. Rosenvatten vanished. His body, wrapped tight around itself, threatened to grind into dust. He tasted blood and fire.
“Queens,” he gasped.
You will never defeat us,hissed Amalia, the Siren Queen who cast his curse that horrid night.You arrogant swine. You will live out an Arcanist’s five hundred years on the ocean that you love, unable to swim in the water, seeking your Mila, desiring revenge of which you cannot even speak. You will never enjoy the things you love most. Not the sea, your freedom, nor Mila. She will remain here, where she belongs, until the Arcanist of Souls takes her where we will never go.
This is your curse, you fool.
The words faded to a whisper. Pedr felt all closing in. His lungs compressed until each breath was a mere hiccup. Something warm pressed to his forehead. Amidst the haze, a voice.
“Come on, Pedr!” Himmel cried. “You can do this.”
With the last morsel of life, he screamed the name he hadn’t spoken in fifteen years.
“Mila!”
Then, a rending.
All fell to blackness.
Pedr floated.
Wherever he was, stillness permeated all of it until a retreating hiss broke the halcyon quiet. Air rushed into him, bursting with life and heat and blood all at once. The restriction dissipated.
Pedr shot upright with a gasp.
Blessed light and air filled his body. The tension in his muscles evaporated, and the bands that had been tightening across his chest ceased. His eyes flew open.
He stared right at Britt.
Britt.
Vapors dissipated from where he was vaguely certain Himmel once hovered. He panted, thoroughly exhausted, yet brimming with potent arcane. Britt grabbed his shoulders.
“Pedr?”
“Fine,” he panted. “I’m . . . fine.”
“You arenotfine. What happened?”
He pressed his hands to the deck and attempted to stand. He listed to the side, not ready to hold his weight. She scrambled to hook an arm around his waist, and he was grateful, eternally grateful, that she didn’t waste time trying to convince him to slow down.
“Where’s Himmel?”
