“It’s necessary,” Vivenne says with a tiny shrug under her cloak.“Will she remember?”
“It depends on her mind,” the man speaks up.Portuk, my memory says.I want to tell Vivenne that I do remember, to answer her question.But I’m staring at him, lost in the surfacing pockets of recall.He’s drakonkin.And so am I.Though I never knew it, not until recently.And wait, I have a father, too, one I thought long perished.
He’s alive.
The queen is dead.
I’m crying suddenly, but I don’t know why.Something hurts, far worse than the tingling pain in my limbs and torso, much more than the throbbing beginning in my head.It’s my heart, swelling in agony, like a bubble fills, pressing hard against my chest, a hard, heavy and poisoned thing that will burst at any moment and take my life.
The queen isdead.
“Mother,” I whisper.My mother.
Vivenne flinches.It’s a bare movement, hardly one at all.But I see it because I’m staring up at her.“Jhanette,” she says.“You remember.”
It’s so very hard.And now the headache overtakes the threat of my heart bursting, and I whimper.Why is that such a terrible thing, that tiny sound of pain?It is, though, even if I can’t recall why.
Especially for Vivenne to hear.
“There’s another boat coming.”Fethest’s panic has my aunt looking up, though it’s casual, her arm snaking outward, and I just catch it in the periphery as Vivenne’s fingers wind around the young healer’s neck and squeeze.
I listen to the sound of Fethest choking to death, and can’t remember why I should care.
“Hush.”There’s silence from the three of them, the healer’s protest cut off with force.There’s only the soft rocking of the boat, the odd echoing lap of the water on the hull, and nothing.
—emi—
No, not yet, the voice whispers, her impatience soft and sad.I’m sorry, she must come alone.
And yet, insistence pushes against the ache in my head and the lassitude that won’t let me remember, and I hear it again—
—Remi!—
“Atlas.”I gasp his name, because it’s Atlas, the kinspark lighting in a flare of lost dragon magic, setting off a chain reaction inside me that surges into a firework of agony, burning everything away—
I’m me, trapped in the bottom of a rickety boat, pinned down by the two traitor drakonkin and my not-quite-right aunt, captive, but not for long.I reach through the connection to Atlas, my beautiful Overprince, to Zenthris, the rebellious rogue, my loves, searching for me.
—I’m here—
Something sharp stabs my skin as Vivenne hisses, her only show of emotion, and though I’m already struggling, I’m weak, so tired, drained to the last drop, even if I’ll fight until I die.
Until I kill her.
And then I’m drowning in the ocean, sinking deeper and deeper under the water until there’s nothing but the chill, floating emptiness.
When the agony starts again, I embrace it.
I open my eyes.There are stars.So pretty, the stars.Sparkling and wobbling like that.Something is touching me, but I can’t make it stop, even though it’s heavy on my chest.Or is it just hard to breathe?It’s difficult to know for sure.
Everything rocks, my stomach heaving suddenly in rebellion, but when the contents rise, there’s nowhere for the sick to go.
“Turn her over.”That dull, empty voice is harsh, low.I’m choking, my chest on fire, and then I’m on my side, coughing as something hits me hard on the back.
“You’re going to kill her.”The young woman’s voice.I know it, don’t I?Like I do the other flat, emotionless one.But from where?There’s accusation in that girl’s tone.“Then they’ll kill us for sure.”
A man laughs, a barking sound, like a dog’s biting anger.“Trust me,” he says, “if they catch us, that one alive or dead, we won’t survive it either way.”His voice falls off, then he speaks again.“There, is that them?”
“Let’s find out.”The older woman’s tone hasn’t changed at all.“Watch her.I’d prefer it if she didn’t die this way.She still has a task ahead of her.”
