“After everything we’ve done,” she murmured, her voice suddenly quiet and laced with danger. “Everything we’ve been through. The trap, the transition, the night the Parian colony fell, the years and years and moon-damned years of promising we’d never leave each other, promising we’d find some way out—” She batted the hair from wet lashes with a shake of her head, punctuating her words with an extended finger aimed at the floor. “You’re. Looking. At. A. Map.”
“Theia burn the skies, Senna. It’s just a map,” I said, though a flutter of something shaped like shame trickled through the roof of my stomach, pooling in my gut. When Thaan had threatened our lives, I’d been the one to cave and sign his contract at the notion that he might hurt us if we didn’t. That he might hurt Selena.
I’d sealed my fate in blood. But she’d never left me. And I held no doubt that she’d follow me to the farthest reaches of the world. That’s how it had always been. I was vicious, but Selena was loyal.
I protected our bodies. Selena protected our hearts.
Avoiding her eyes, I reached for the parchment between our feet, slowly rolling it up as I straightened. She crossed her arms, a hip rocked to the side. Our mother had done that, too.
“You could always come with me.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Her jeweled eyes lit with crystal fire, her mouth thinned to a taut string, brows mashing together. She leveled me with a murderous stare. “For three years, Ceba, until youdie. And what, then?”
“You’d be free.” For a moment, I thought she might slap me. I waved her away. “It was a jest, Senna. I’m not going anywhere.”
She didn’t move.
“I’m not leaving you. I promise.”
“Promise me.”
A huff of air shot from my mouth. “I just did!”
But she shook her head once, eyes still hard and narrow. “Promiseme.”
Ah. That promise. The one we saved for only each other.
Sisters can be an odd breed. Twins even more so. We fought, but we never really made up. We didn’t need to. Peace treaties between sisters were as simple as laughing at the thought of Deimos’s expression when he’d reached the height of his patience with us and vacated the room. Stealing to the kitchens together to plunder fresh-baked pastries. Sneaking away from our daily duties to eavesdrop on the administrative offices, decoding the small verbal exchanges we’d heard for hours into the night.
Apologies were built on shared conspiracy, not the wordsorryitself. The same with promises. No matter what age we’d reached.
I curled my fingers into the palm of my right hand. All of them except the smallest. Selena’s shoulders softened slightly, and she did the same. We knitour pinkies together in an oath that, for Naiad sisters, was more binding than spilling our blood.
“I promise,” I said. “I won’t leave you. I’ll be wherever you are. Always.”
Her hold tightened into mine. She lowered her chin, locking into my eyes, and said the words we’d always said in place ofI love you.
“Until the ocean dries up.”
“Until the moon burns out.”
5
Selena
Thaan’s study door swung open.
We jumped in surprise, yanking our pinkies apart. Cebrinne knelt to scoop the map from the floor, but my eyes darted to meet Deimos’s wolfish scowl. I searched for an indication he’d heard our words. It wasn’t the first time he'd caught us unaware, too absorbed in our conversation to listen for sounds on the other side of the wall.
But he lurched his head in a silent order to follow, then turned and stalked out as though he didn’t have the time to wait for us. Cebrinne stole a covert glance at me, annoyed as she rolled the map and secured it with its fellows on the shelf. Without a word, we trailed him through the apartment he shared with Thaan and out the door.
In warmer months, we’d have left our rooms with our shoulders and arms bare. But in mid-Piscaa, wind snaked up our skirts and sleeves. Unlike this morning, we didn’t have time to bundle ourselves against the chill. When Deimos told us to come, we came. I crossed my arms against my chest, huddling against myself as my feet skittered over the sky bridge. Cebrinne let the cold seep into her skin instead, burrowing her eyes into the back of Deimos’s neck as though wondering how much force it might take to snap it.
A few of the human secretaries glanced at his approach before quickly returning to their work. Simple creatures. They believed Deimos was the one to whom they answered. The Naiad secretaries knew better. They kepttheir heads down, ignoring our entrance. But like Cebrinne and I, they knew who truly ran things here in the palace.
The little, forgettable man in spectacles.
I could only guess at why Thaan hid himself in such a way. Knowing he’d garner human enemies while involving himself in royal matters, perhaps he didn’t want humans to recognize his true face. Maybe that’s why I disliked Deimos. Not because he played Thaan’s grunt, stretching the poisonous reach of Thaan’s eyes and ears. Not because I knew everything Deimos witnessed between Cebrinne and me would be reported to his master. But because his existence only reminded me of how expendable we all were to Thaan.
